#🖋「txt」

[kunikame]

warmth of the sun embodied in you. - ace t.

warnings : mostly narration, astral references, malleus mention, ace is my muse my most beloved im sorry i will never shut up about him, i love the sun i love ace trappola w/c : 1045

there was always something about ace trappola that simply demanded attention. 

it wasn’t something easy to spot, something visible to the naked eye– no, it was something intangible, something deep within him that simply made the people around him unable to look away. his presence simply pulled gazes much like magnets and metals.

some people say it's because he's “such an ass it has you staring”, but then why are their gazes filled with wonder? 

in the time you spent here, you’ve come to find the only person who looked at ace with mostly apprehension was riddle rosehearts, his very own dorm leader. it’s no wonder, really, with how much of a troublemaker the ginger is (and with how many rules he breaks), but even despite that, sometimes, riddle looks at him starstruck as well.

you find yourself questioning this reality. while ace is a dear friend of yours, and he has been exceptionally nice to you (excluding the times he wasn’t because that's just who he is), you still don’t quite understand what exactly about him just has you turning your head to look at the ginger instead of the blackboard crewel is breaking his back to write on.

and it is perhaps in that fateful classroom where you finally begin to piece it together.

there was always something akin to a spotlight placed on ace trappola– whether it be one you imagined, the light from a lamp, or just literally the sun's rays– he was always the main attraction, always eye-catching.

or perhaps, it's not that he placed himself under the spotlights, perhaps the spotlights placed him under themselves. perhaps they chased him, were attracted to him, like moths to a flame. except, shouldn't it be the other way around? no, with ace, it shouldn’t. with or without a spotlight he somehow seems to shine brighter than the lights in rooms he occupies, somehow seems to bring more light than the actual source– and if he’s not the moth, he must be the flame, it just makes sense. 

people didn’t look at him because he was an ass, they looked at him because that’s just ace. simple as that– he is ace trappola and you must look at him, you must pay attention to him. whether he’s performing his card tricks or just spinning a pencil in class, he needs to be looked at because he is ace trappola and his presence demands attention– not quite like malleus, whose presence commands the rooms he enters, but still does so, in a sense.

throughout the next few weeks, you continued to observe the ginger, desperately trying to piece the puzzle together, trying to dissect him and figure out what exactly made him what you know him to be.

it was on a particularly cold autumn friday night, way past your regular bedtime– though, that was a necessary sacrifice to make for the 1st year game night– when you believe you finally figured it out.

you sat perched on the wide windowsill of the lounge, staring at the moon and faintly visible stars, the only never-changing constant in this twisted wonderland that you could confidently say reminded you of home.

the white light radiating off the orb felt mostly cold, but there were some remnants of the warmth the sun shared with it, warmth which it reflected upon the Earth, upon you.

then there was another presence– one of the other 6 current occupants of the lounge.

“what’re you doin’ up so late? couldn't sleep?”

you hum, watching as he seats himself on the opposite end of the windowsill, “yeah, something like that.”

“thinking about something? or was it deuce’s snoring, ‘cause that wakes me up too, sometimes.”

“mostly just thinking. what about you? why aren’t you sleeping? i don’t hear deuce snoring right now.”

he huffs a short laugh, ruffling his ginger mop of a horrendous bedhead, “honestly, i was awake the whole time. Grim kicked me in the head just now, though, so i figured i’d.. relocate, for a bit. thaumark for your thoughts? or we can just observe the moon, or whatever it is you were doing, if you want.”

as you stare at him under the moons’ light, it’s almost like it’s not even the white ball in the sky that radiates the heat and light, but rather ace– but if that were to be the case, that would make him the sun, wouldn’t it? since it’s the primary source, it’s what makes the moon glow?

perhaps he is, perhaps he has been all along, you’ve simply been too blinded by him to truly notice– for as they say, you shouldn’t stare at the eclipse without the proper protection for your eyes. now, as you look at him in the dark, it seems all too clear, all too obvious to deny. ace trappola has always glowed in ways more than perceptible– there was always this bright halo, a warm aura of sorts, around him. ace trappola has always been an enigmatic being to the people around him, whether it be for his way of living, his personality, or simply his behavioral patterns– he was never easy to understand or to decipher, but that’s one of the primary things which made him so interesting. there’s an undeniable pull about him that sucks everything and everyone into his atmosphere, making everything simply revolve around him– much like the planets revolve around the sun. his touch is always warm, burningly so, like he sits in the sunlight, soaking it up, with the sole purpose of being a living human heater. 

and despite people saying it’s best to stay clear of him in fear of being pulled along with his shenanigans, if you were to be given a choice on your position in the solar system ace is the center of, you would choose to be mercury, for incineration is a small price to pay for loving the sun. if you are to lose your vision or crash and burn and fade away into nothingness at the end of everything, then so be it– least your ashes will forever exist in the same space as him.

“i was just thinking you held the rays of the sun in your palms, and it’s warmth in you.”

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @solxima @lunavixia @gabirii @erigaur @pomegranateboba //ask/comment or fill form to be added/removed! (if you’re in bold i can’t tag you)

[onecollectivestardrop]

pour one out for sawyer who is currently having to deal with the brunt of my source trauma jokes

[minastras]

(sorry i'm an anti-romantic)

a kang taehyun limited series smau.

You have a secret: you're the campus's infamous Love Whisperer. But if you're so good at romance, why can’t you make your new roommate Kang Taehyun notice you? Well, he has a secret of his own: he might just be your client.

at a glance: gender neutral reader, university au, roommates to lovers, tsundere! taehyun x hopeless romantic reader, fluff, crack, ft. txt

notes: this WILL be completed. i will never give you up, let you down, run around, or desert you. no faceclaims. lots o' nsfw jokes

status: completed. DO NOT SPAM LIKE.

→ profiles: the a listers | minding their own damn business

→ 01: help, he’s hot

→ 02: why is this so gendered

→ 03. i will peel the flesh from your femur like string cheese

→ 04: please tell me we didn't fuck 🖋

→ 05: into the soup you go

→ 06: how do you go from concerned to horny so fast

→ 07: to kiss or to stop an electrical fire, that is the question 🖋

→ 08: big balls mcgee

→ 09: don’t threaten people with hell so casually

→ 10: slow down, romeo 🖋

fin.

[criceofpain]

you know what

let me actually write a headcanon for once (like the bullet type)

first one to drop their req in the replies or asks will be written immediately :D

[pupgzut]

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶ hii

this is an irl yandere blog !! [or a vent blog]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ i am a fictive in a system, i'm a co-host nd a caregiver / caretaker [sfw] and im non-human, i'm a demon !! you can call me vox or ellie but millord work too, use he/it/her with me :)

( only her , not she )

i'm hypersexual and have bpd ( i also have dylsexia, tics and psychosis god i kept forgetting to put the rest but im also autistic )

✧.* bodily minor ( hs age* ) ; trans ; mlm / mlnb / nblm / nblnb ; polyam, trans masc genderfluid ( boy, catgender, quasiboy, pupgender, daemonix, demongender ) ☄. *. ⋆

(* im french so the hs grade is different from the american one )

i use irl yandere as a way to cope <33 i do not support hurting / stalking innocent / not consenting ppl !!

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ i'm fine with being dm randomly, love confession ( realized it sound weird uh please ignore that), threath [not too graphic if i dont know you /j], flirting [please dont do this if you are under 14 and over 17 bodily], venting / ranting [warn me before <3], send pics of gore [but tell me before, and ask if you can <3 sometime i dont feel comfy seeing that] nd the same go for ask <33

ask are welcome nd i like them a lot

nd i call everyone sweetie, sweetheart, tell me if it make you uncomfy <33

i dont have an beloved / fp nd im single regardless i do post about doing stuff / venting related to having an beloved / fp !

+:ꔫ:﹤ i'm not only an irl yandere but also an oujidere, hinedere <33

dni : basic stuf / u fetizhe irl yandere / ur against polyam relationship / u are an endo sys ( or others origin than traumagenic ) / anti - xenogender / neopronouns ++ more stuff i cant remember / ur over 20

cw : yandere content, obsessive / intrusive thoughts, stalking, violence, sh, kidnapping, suicide, mental illness, venting, paranoia, psychosis, delusions

// the host of my system also use ocasionally this blog their tag is host🎀.txt + @dollyyan is an headmate

vox saying stuff is the tag i use for my random rambles / posts ect...

[ // list of anons : 🖋 , 🌼, 💫 ]

[luvrlixie]

⸼࣪⸳ 🖋 𓂃  ⴰ  ࣭͘ 'welcome! 𓄹 ִֶָ⁠

hi, thanks for stopping by! I'm jupiter/jupi, I'm 19, and I use she/they pronouns. please read my info down below before requesting and I hope you enjoy my blog ♡

I mainly write for enha, txt, nct, and skz.

requests: open

even if my requests are closed, my askbox is always open!! feel free to scream about your favs, send your horny thoughts, rant, ask me questions, etc

rules

masterlist

thanks for stopping by! ₊˚✩彡

[kunikame]

in your system, even pluto is a planet. - i. mao

warnings : mostly mao centric, gender neutral, astral ref (my trademark trust), my formal apology to all maoPs for redamancy

w/c : 889

isara mao has always been second best.

it is how he spent most of his life, it is what he’s ultimately used to. he knows he would never be first– he knows he's not good enough to be first.

those are the facts, the truths he’s had to abide by since he was a child. no matter how hard he tried, there was always someone who was, simply put, better.

yet to accept a truth is easier than to stop hoping he could one day break the cycle.

he’s reminded of this once more as he watches his unit-mates work on their next choreography. as a friend first and unit-mate second, he will always be proud of them, will always support them and help make them shine if he can.

that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. 

watching them so easily become what he’s always wished he could be. isara mao is well aware he could never sparkle like they do.

as it turns out, he’s the only ‘trick’, whereas the other 3 are the ‘star’.

to accept it is slightly different than it is to continue fighting it.

and that’s where you come in.

while anzu may be their primary manager, she’s been kept busy by other units recently, so to keep trickstar functioning properly in her absence, you’ve been assigned to help them out instead.

mao wouldn’t exactly call it love at first sight (though makoto yuuki would beg to differ)– he simply has good intuition when it comes to people. he just knew you’re a good person, so he stuck close to you. that’s all.

all was well at first.

you helped them out wherever you could, gave them useful advice and even basically collaborated on the choreography. what caught mao off guard however, was that you tried your best to focus on all of them equally. you gave all of them the time of day when they needed it, without any reservations or excuses. if makoto had a question, you would answer it, and if mao needed help the moment after, you would immediately be by his side.

it was weird, to be treated like a voluntary choice.

then suddenly you no longer had time for mao. 

makoto, subaru, hokuto. subaru, makoto, hokuto. hokuto, makoto, subaru.

never mao.

and he doesn’t understand why. 

he doesn’t remember doing anything to upset you, so why?

have you simply realized he’s not good enough to be a choice?

sitting on a random staircase in yumenosaki, the redhead swirled his can of coke as he let out yet another helpless sigh.

he couldn’t even ask ritsu for help, he’d just fall asleep halfway through the story. perhaps it’s for the best if he doesn’t say anything at all. just suck it up and stick it out till the end, as always. deal with it.

for so long he’s associated himself with venus– with it being the second planet from the sun and all– he forgot to think that, maybe, he was just pluto all along.

with the final sigh of his short pity party, he threw the can in the nearest bin and made his way back to the studio. just a bit more practice and perhaps he’ll finally get closer to the others. 

the door opens before him and you’re standing there, eyes wide and mouth gaping, as if you’re seeing him for the first time (he probably doesn’t look much different though, he thinks).

“mao! i was just about to go look for you! the others have left already so i finally have time for you, i’m so sorry i’ve been pushing it off for so long, there was always just.. something. the lights broke and the–” you paused to let out a quick breath, shoulders relaxing for the first time this week, “you know what, whatever, doesn’t matter. i can finally take care of your concerns, so out with them!”

you step away from the doorway to let him in, but he just stands there dumbfounded.

“..mao?”

“... so you– you weren’t ignoring me? like, without reason?”

“what? no! i would never do that!” you looked genuinely distraught and now he feels bad for ever thinking so because yeah, you would never do that (or would you?), he’s just too used to people doing it (way too used, a voice in his head chuckles).

“oh,” he breathes, then steps into the studio.

“if it were up to me i would’ve dropped everything to cater to your needs, but the spotlight that was supposed to be on your position broke, so i made that my priority,” oh, “i’m sorry if i made you feel unimportant, i should’ve discussed it with you first..”

“n-no! no, no it’s fine. you’re fine. .. thank you. for-for doing that for me. and i’m sorry, too, i shouldn’t have assumed..”

you smile at him and he thinks not even the sun is worthy of you. 

it may be the center of the solar system, where pluto is not even a planet and where venus is second– but in the system isara mao sees you as the center of, perhaps he was mercury all along. if he is to crash and burn and suffer incineration in the long run, it may just be a worthy sacrifice.

at least he will no longer be second best.

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @ibaraluvr @venusflwers @thesapphirecake @yakshalea @mahouwoageru @kazemiya @menhwa-pdf @chalksdreams @gabirii @myunghology @solxima //ask/comment or fill form to be added/removed! (if you're in bold i can't tag you)

[echidnana]

the confluence

we’re the confluence, a polyplural hybrid system. body is mixed (white + east asian), disabled, tme, and 18.

questions about any of us are welcome! if we don’t want to disclose something or are uncomfortable with a question, we will say so.

we have introjects- they’re all fine with doubles or people who self ship with their source, just respect that they are not the same as your version of them and are their own individual.

collective language

- they/them (plural)

- if you’re unsure who’s fronting/the pronouns of the person fronting, they/them is our default pronouns!

- headmates or sysmates

- plural, collective, system, etc. are all good

- you can refer to us collectively as either the confluence or logan

- we collectively identify as aroace-spec, amatopunk, and pluralqueer

members

not everyone, just the folks who use tumblr. tags are #(name).txt and #(name) tag. links on the names go to a separate intro post.

this list isn’t super up to date anymore because of how many headmates we have now. asking for the pronouns of whoever is fronting is always ok with us!

🔗 A: he/they, adult

🀄️ agiri: she/her/?/?s

📹 aker: he/him

💕 amy: she/her, minor

🩰 austen: she/her

📍 B: he/she, adult

📚 banu: she/her, older teen

🔦 cheryl: he/she/they

🚫 circ: he/him/cy/cyb

🧨 deadpool: he/him, adult

🎠 emu: she/her

☔️ flower: it/its (he/him if we know each other)

🎪 franziska: any pronouns.

❣️ fukase: he/him

🍉 genya: he/they

🌊 giyuu: he/him, young adult

🎍 hinatsuru: she/they, ~21

🔭 honami: they/them

🎸 ichika: she/her/he/him

🍙 inumaki: he/him, 16

🖋 kanade: they/them

💐 kanao: she/they

❤️‍🩹 katya/kt: she/her, 13

🍰 L: he/him, usually ~25

♟ light: he/him, 17 or younger

🥭 li hua: she/her, ~17-21, @pixiuu

🏮 logan/tsunghan: he/him/voi/void

🗒 mafuyu: he/they

🎋 maki: she/her, minor

⚔️ makio: she/he, ~20-21

☯️ maya: she/her, ~18, lesbian, @feyic

🍊 miki: she/he/they

🎤 miku: she/it

💋 misa: she/her, ~19-22

🌧 muichiro: he/they

🪕 naki: she/they

🪲 nausicaä: they/she, adult

🎮 nene: she/they

🌸 nezuko: she/her

🔨 nobara: she/her, minor

🐍 obanai: he/they

🕸 peter: he/him, adult

🌳 piers: he/him, ~32

🌐 piko: he/they, teenager

🧋 saki: she/they

🐟 salmon: he/it

🐈 sana: she/her

💫 satoru: he/him/voi/void, minor

💥 shadow: he/him, minor

🦜 sherry: she/her, ageslider

🎧 shiho: they/she

☁️ silver: he/they

🔪 sonya: she/he/they

🪨 suguru: he/they

🫐 suma: she/he, ~20

🎴 tanjiro: he/they

🥖 teto: they/them

🌊 the tidepools: they/them, hybrid subsystem

👾 toya: he/him

🕊 yael: any pronouns

🎏 yasuna: she/he/they

🎥 yoshino: she/they, 17

🐋 young-woo: she/her, ~27

🌻 yuuji: he/him, minor

🔒 yura: he/him, 17

🌼 zenitsu: she/he

[onecollectivestardrop]

redid pinned lol

[nikirishimura2]

🖋 sfw pt2

[dsmpkinfessions]

Frequently Asked Questions

Who runs this blog?

Mods Wilbur🖋, Grian, Kristin, and Tubbo

The other Mod Wilbur’s tag for mod posts was 💛 Mod Posts, and their personal kinfession tag is 💛📔 .

Mod Grian is contactable on @irlwilbursoot, other blogs may be added later! Do be aware, it is a personal blog and therefore has both my opinions as well as things i am trying to take into consideration/learn more about and so in the tag #txt there is some discourse.

Can I use a custom tag like on fictionkinfessions?

Yeah, go wild! The only thing I ask is don’t use your blog url as the custom tag, if you want people to know it was you that sent it in, reblog it onto your personal sideblog or whatever!

How often is the Queue?

The queue is set for 15 posts a day, 9 am to 12 am est!

What’s this tag about gapples?

Oh, this tag right here? I, mod wilbur, think that it’s something that needs to be categorized since we’re all fixated on gapples and always will be.

[luvrlixie]

⸼࣪⸳ 🖋 𓂃  ⴰ  ࣭͘ 'masterlist! 𓄹 ִֶָ⁠

*⁀➷TXT

how they ask for cuddles (fluff)

*⁀➷SKZ

s. changbin - killing me softly (smut, fluff)

k. seungmin - starlight (fluff)

*⁀➷ ENHA

*⁀➷NCT

dream unit- when you call them pretty (fluff)

[kunikame]

venus, planet of love. - mitsuki i.

warning(s) : hurt/comfort, mitsukis inferiority complex, i7 are the planets dont ask me why just read the fic, i love u izumi mitsuki u are so me w/c : 1619

you know love is real because izumi mitsuki exists, and he is full of it.

mitsuki loves many things – he loves iori, ZERO, re:vale, idolish7, his parents, the bakery, .. the list goes on endlessly, for izumi mitsuki is love itself. he is a lover through and through, he was raised with love enveloping him all around, and he spreads it around to everyone shamelessly and selflessly.

the only thing mitsuki doesn’t really love is himself – he is second. always, always second.

second to his genius younger brother, secondary to all his group members, always the kid picked last unless iori was the leader.

there was nothing particularly wrong with him that made it this way, he was, simply put, mediocre. a jack of all trades but master of none, if you will.

so you can imagine it didn’t quite surprise him to be less popular than his group mates by a huge margin. he didn’t stand out with anything, he had nothing for himself that would make him stand out – he wasn’t too likeable. he was aware of this, he has known this for a while – but it still hit him quite hard.

it was horrible, really, to see a light so bright become dim because it cannot see itself – it only sees the other lights, and becomes lost in their glow, mistakenly led to believe he does not shine at all.

it certainly does a number on the sight to gaze directly at the sun.

perhaps if he was brighter, if he was made of something different, he, too, would shine – would be loved.

you’ve always compared idolish7 to the planets in the sky, and fittingly so, as to you, a friend and fan, they are the center of a greater something. something only they can create, something that is tried and tested and truly theirs, because they shine brighter than all the stars combined, and because they deserve to have their place in the universe.

if nanase riku is the sun, a sense of purpose, then iori izumi is the moon, instinct. nikaido yamato is jupiter, expansion. nagi rokuya is saturn, responsibility. tamaki yotsuba is uranus, freedom. osaka sogo is mercury, adaptability. 

izumi mitsuki is venus, love.

for it is not love if it is not izumi mitsuki. it is not izumi mitsuki if it is not love.

you just wish he knew that.

which is exactly why when he got offers to mc on variety shows, you encouraged him to take them, to try them – maybe he’ll end up liking them. he is really funny, after all, a natural conversationalist. he is exactly the type variety mc’s like to interview the most, you’re almost certain he would be good at the job.

and he was – he was so good, in fact, he earned idolish7 their very own namesake show, with him as the mc.

he finally had something for himself, something that was purely his, something that defined and solidified his place in idolish7. something that made him irreplaceable.

seeing mitsuki try so earnestly and work so hard, you honestly didn’t know what to do. sometimes, you’d want to say “good luck!”, but other times you feel a “you don’t have to work so hard” would be better, as he was literally working himself to the bone to please everyone he possibly could – for what is he, if not love?

he never desired whatever side parts come with fame – he simply wanted to make people happy. that was his one true ambition, his goal. he doesn’t need anyone to love him, as long as they love the things he loves – as long as they love idolish7. it would sting, of course, to be left behind, to be unfavored, but he supposed he could live with that reality. he was finally accepted after all those failed auditions, he was doing what he loved, with the people he loved by his side.

he believed he could somehow get used to being disliked.

being disliked for doing something he loved however, that was a different story. 

he thought by mc-ing he could get closer to the others in popularity – and, from a certain point, it was true – his popularity did rise a bit, and he definitely did receive more fan letters and positive comments now, but the fated encounter and the unfortunate “he’s so annoying, i wish he would shut up” would continue to ring in his head for a long while to come.

he has just built up his confidence and stability like a fine tower of cards, fearing the slightest gust of wind lest it gets knocked off and tumbles onto his wooden desk in a messy pile – but instead, someone kicked the desk and the cards flew off and onto the cold, harsh ground, such a far distance off.

nagi had attempted to salvage the situation to the best of his ability, but lifting the cards off the ground isn’t going to rebuild the tower – mitsuki will have to do that himself.

handing him the cards while he does so was a simple act of kindness on your part.

“mitsuki?”

he startles mid stretch, an earbud falling out as he turns his head.

“[name]? what are you still doing here?”

“i was looking for you, then i ran into iori– he said i’d find you here,” you made your way over to sit next to him on the floor, sharing a look through the mirror facing you, “what are you doing here so late?”

“y’know, just practicing. gotta catch up and stuff, haha.”

“you’re already good enough as you are, mitsuki. you don’t need to chase after anything or anyone.”

he heaves an exhausted sigh, fiddling with the wires from his earbuds, “i do, though. i’m smaller than the others so i’m often off beat during the choreographies. i need to do more work to make sure i stay on.”

“you shouldn’t work so hard all the time. you’re tearing yourself apart trying to do this and that all at the same time – i understand your intentions, but i feel the way you’re going about them is going to bring you ruin in the end. as a friend first and fan second, i care for your health, and i don’t want to see you destroy yourself.”

“i’m not as good as them th–”

“yes, you are. you’re too absorbed in seeing them as the brightest lights to see yourself shining just as much as them. popularity polls don’t define who you are as a person, or how much you work, or how hard you try. the others know that, though, and so do i. we all see how much effort and care you put into your work, mitsuki – we know you pour out your heart and soul into everything you do, desperately trying to make it the best, trying to make people happy with you, and you do. the disapproving voices simply sound louder to you at this point in time, because those are the ones you’re most exposed to. it is however not hatred and dislike that kills entertainers, it’s love.”

the ginger listened attentively, taking your monologue in, dissecting it bit by bit. though he seems to disagree, he does understand your view and he respects it – he just doesn’t quite understand. he looks up at the mirror, staring in your eyes through it, and his seem to shimmer a tad more than they normally would under the studio lights.

“why love?”

the smile on your face feels a little melancholy, and again, he finds himself not understanding why.

“love can be overbearing and suffocating. sometimes we love things too much – so much we would kill just to keep them to ourselves. we destroy ourselves in an effort to make our loved ones happy or proud, completely blind to our surroundings becoming hazy and hard to navigate, and when you come to, you find you’re all alone in a room once filled with people. love changes, sometimes not in a good way. much like the stars burn up and disappear, the planets, too, will be destroyed by the sun,” you turn to him then, and there is a singular tear streaming down his face. you reach out to wipe it with your finger, and he blinks, “i don’t want to see that happen to you, because to me, you are love.”

“the destructive kind?”

“no, the beautiful kind. i see pieces of you in everything i hold dear, because i hold you dear.”

you see him smile for the first time that night, and it is beautiful, blindingly so – brighter than the white leds above his head. 

“i hold you dear, too.”

there’s a comfortable silence as you gaze at each other, the instrumental to their new song faintly heard from his long discarded earbuds on the floor.

“hey, did you know venus is the brightest planet naturally visible in the night sky?”

perhaps the planet of love itself was destroyed by being loved too much, but not izumi mitsuki – never izumi mitsuki.

izumi mitsuki loved many things. he loved iori, ZERO, re:vale, idolish7 – the list goes on. he was a lover, raised to love the things and people around himself.

“oh, really?”

but izumi mitsuki was also loved. loved by his fans, group mates, parents – by you.

the izumi mitsuki you knew had his love returned to him tenfold by his surroundings – be it the flowers his eyes linger on, the deep orange hues of the setting sun as they caress his face, the stray pets he feeds when he sees them – everything.

the izumi mitsuki you know is loved.

“yeah.”

maybe one day he will learn to love himself, too. 

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @gabirii //ask/comment or fill form to be added/removed! (if you’re in bold i can’t tag you)

[kunikame]

5 times he thought he was the sun, and the 1 he realized he wasn't. - deuce s.

warnings : mostly deuce centric, angst, fluff, middle school deuce, violence mention, ace trappola, astral imagery and references (ITS MY TRADEMARK TRUST ME OK), im not sorry w/c : 2,448

1. when his mom said so.

it is a universally known fact that deuce spade is a “mama’s boy”. he is anything but ashamed of this, on the contrary, he carries the title with pride. his mother was the one who raised him and took care of him all his life, the least he can do is be proud of that and strive to be the best he can, so her efforts don’t go to waste.

this, he comes to realize in his middle school years, after witnessing his mother crying over his wounds first hand. she had berated him many times for being a “punk” and “gangster” (her words, not his), but he’s never seen her cry, no matter how bad things were.

so he strove to do better.

fueled by the pure and unfiltered shame and guilt pooling at the pit of his stomach, he sat as his mother bandaged his wounds, her tears mixing with the salve and blood streaming down his knuckles. in his defense, the guy totally deserved the beating he got, but he no longer believes it was worth it– not if the end result was his dearly beloved mother shedding tears over him.

the salve stung more than it normally did on that day.

over the next couple weeks he made sure to cut ties with all his friends and avoided getting into unreasonable fights like the bubonic plague. it was a bit hard, he admits, since all middle school kids are assholes who sometimes deserve a nice punch in the face, but he had to hold himself back and be good– an honor student.

as yet another fightless school day ended, a distant memory he seemed to have long forgotten and classified as “not important” resurfaced. 

if he remembers correctly, he was about 8 at the time, just having learnt the concept of space and planets and the solar system in geography class. they had a ritual, his mother and him– as they walked home after classes ended hand in hand, tiny deuce would retell his entire day in great detail as his mother listened attentively and added her own comments sometimes. that's when he told her about the sun and how it was the center of everything.

suddenly sweet little deuce stopped in his tracks, an expression clearly showing he was deep in thought (and effectively overloading his brain, he will definitely need to take a nap later) etched on his face. he then looked up at her with sparkling eyes, and asked “does that mean im your sun, mama?”

the blue haired woman stunned for a mere moment, only to laugh so sweetly deuce berates himself for ever forgetting this dear, precious memory, “yes, darling. yes, you are.”

8 year old deuce thought he would never be happier.

he, however, failed to realize the sun tends to be red, perhaps orange.

never blue.

2. when people avoided him while staying in his orbit.

deuce has always considered himself a people magnet, for better or worse.

in middle school he was feared with friends few and far between, but despite being actively avoided by most of the student body, they still somehow, some way, gravitated towards him for one reason or another.

despite beating people up being his most common activity, deuce spade loved helping people. his mother raised him to always be mindful of others and help when he can, so he did just that– though sometimes in.. less academically acceptable means. 

he didn’t just fight for fun, don’t get him wrong. he preferred to bring justice where it was due– to bullies. if one of his classmates was being bullied in front of him, he couldn’t just sit back and watch when he had 2 perfectly functioning hands and the offender a perfectly punchable face.

that is how deuce found himself feared, yet adored, at the same time. pulling people in while unintentionally pushing them away. 

at night raven college he was no longer feared, or adored. there were guys much scarier, more powerful than him, why would anyone be scared of a first year without his unique spell? why would he be adored without having done anything to be deserving of adoration? if anything, he was constantly causing problems instead. this is not how his plan of being an honor student was supposed to go.

his kind and– contrary to high school– chill nature did seem to still pull people towards him, though. he had changed a lot since his “punk” days, he was much calmer and friendlier now, which seemed to make it easier for people to approach him. that’s how he found himself making many new friends for this journey.

much like the sun with the planets, it’s trusty companions, deuce also had his.

he had, yet again, failed to realize the sun was less good natured than him.

3. when he got his unique spell.

deuce was truly overjoyed the day it happened. what made it even better was that he was the first of his new friend group to manifest it!

well, technically– jack already had his before he came to nrc, so he doesn’t really count. for pride's sake.

better yet, it’s a super useful and powerful spell! he’s sure to make his mom proud with this one, he thinks to himself as he walks down one of the many dark hallways the school holds, smiling all the while.

now he’ll be more useful if there’s another overblot– now he can protect people with his magic! without having to use his fists (though it would be for a good cause, he reasons)! 

now he can protect his dear magicless friend from harm, without having to rely on others too much.

many overblots have happened since you came here, and deuce has always felt bad he couldn’t do much to protect you, despite being a person in need and his promise to his mother. he thought himself too weak, which wasn’t too far from the truth– that much was proved in the actual battles. but now he has something more to him, something useful, and he’s going to milk the absolute most out of it. he’s going to hone his abilities even more to protect you, and others, better.

because that’s who he strives to be– one who protects, rather than one who harms. one who illuminates the darkest of days, one who shines in peril, one who saves.

much like the sun bestows it’s rays upon the earth, helping it flourish and grow and continue spinning.

he fails to notice the recent heatwave warnings.

4. when he kept his peers warm through the cold nights and days.

as previously mentioned, deuce saw himself as a kind of protector– to his friends and strangers alike. he saw a person in need, he helped, there was no deeper meaning, no poetic underlying translation to his actions.

it was simply second nature.

much like his mother used to put her hands on the edges of counters when he was under them, he, too, instinctively reaches to cover the edge of his desk when you lean down to pick up something you dropped.

contrary to popular belief, deuce spade is severely aware of his surroundings. he always keeps his eyes out for anything that might eventually bring harm to one of his fellow students, his neighbors, his mother, himself. he believes in good deeds returning to you one day, so he does his best to do as many of them as possible– seven know he’s going to need all the luck he can dig up for his finals.

the skills he picked up from his mother especially come in handy at times like these. if there’s any trinkets or machines at ramshackle that you need fixed but crowley doesn’t care and you simply can’t, deuce is lined up at the entrance and fixing it without you ever asking him to. if you mention something not working his mind is immediately preoccupied with finding ways to fix it as soon as possible.

he would rather fail a class than have one of his dear friends hurt over something he could’ve easily prevented had he been there.

so he keeps his eyes peeled and ears alert, observing and listening for any and all opportunities to be useful.

it was around winter time when the heating system at ramshackle broke down and you and grim barely had anything to keep yourselves warm. instead of your bedroom, you found yourself sleeping in the living room, right by the fireplace. the holes in the walls and shabby windows did not do much to keep the cold out, and despite the raging fire right in front of you, you still shivered and huddled further into your several layers of clothes and blankets.

once deuce found out, the first thing he did was curse crowley for being so irresponsible and refusing to fix it for you due to “low funding” (completely ignoring the fact you do all kinds of jobs for him without ever being paid more than what covers your monthly living expenses). the second thing was rush to ramshackle with a toolbox, fully intent on fixing it himself. he’s done it once before, surely he can do it again.

you slept in your warm bedroom again that night.

later, deuce woke in the middle of the night, having a dry throat and no water on his bedside table.

he snuck into the heartslabyul kitchen undetected, and once he refilled his glass, successfully made his way back to his room.

compared to the rest of the dorm, however, he noticed the room was awfully and oddly cold. that’s when he noticed the open window, and ace shivering in his bed.

deuce heaved a shivery sigh and headed to close the window, but he found himself stopping just short of it, glancing at his roommate still shivering, completely uncovered by his blanket. despite hating his guts, ace was still a close friend of his, so with another sigh he walked up to his bed and covered him again, much like his mother used to do to him.

much like the sun keeps the planets warm throughout the year.

he seems to have forgotten mercury is nearing incineration, while uranus and neptune are mostly frozen.

5. when he was akin to the morning light, soft and gentle.

deuce prided himself in being an early bird, he naturally rose with the sun.

maybe it was due to being used to being woken up by his mothers alarms, maybe he just developed this skill over the years– he himself is not entirely sure.

ace always complained about how he could be so energetic and alert in the mornings, while the redhead was completely out of it.

deuce took joy from being able to watch the sunrise. watching the colors of the sky slowly change in the morning energized him plenty for the day to come– it reminded him that no matter what happens, the sun will rise again tomorrow.

this morning, however, he is seeing it in an entirely different light.

him, ace, sebek, jack, epel and ortho had all spent the night at ramshackle at a first year sleepover, organized by you. admittedly, it was the most fun he’s had in a while– and not just him, either, since even sebek seemed to be coming out of his shell.

after the others had long gone to sleep, you stayed up with deuce to chat deep into the night, since you had no classes the next morning. you could allow yourself a little leisure.

deuce spade has never heard his voice be as soft as it was then. he had whispered with people many times in his life, but not once had he sounded so gentle, so tender while talking to someone.

that is when he finally realized something that he completely let slip by him, something he pinned as absolutely normal.

he realized how gentle he’s always been with you.

ever since you came here, deuce has always treated you with care– like you were something fragile, something he might accidentally break if he held it wrong. his hands were used to causing pain, after all.

but no, not with you. never you.

which is why you compared him to the morning light– because in your view, he was just that. something tranquil, something comforting, something that feels like home.

deuce treated you with love, an indescribable fondness behind his every action– something he himself seemed to miss, yet everyone else noticed.

much like the morning lights gentle rays, deuce spade caressed your face.

+ 1. when the moon's glow felt all too familiar.

when deuce opened his eyes that morning, he could immediately tell it would not be a good day.

the morning light did nothing to his exhaustion, and he felt awfully cold, despite it being spring.

as he walked up to his class, he was greeted by a group of people surrounding ace, murmuring about one thing or another. once he approached, the circle parted to let him through to his seat, and he noticed ace was simply performing his card tricks.

“hey, dude, good morning! look at this trick i came up with–”

as he watched his roommates hands carefully, intent on finding out the secret behind the trick, he blinked only once and suddenly it all clicked into place.

why the sun did nothing to him, why he felt so cold.

the sun wasn’t his.

that was simply it, the sun was not his, deuce spade was never the sun– ace trappola was.

whenever a crowd of people surrounded deuce, ace was there. ace kept people cheerful and entertained throughout the days, deuce only kept them warm at night. 

ace trappola was bright, vivid, warm, eye-catching, red.

deuce spade was dim, cool, easy to miss, blue.

ace trappola was everything deuce was not, but everything he wished to be. 

and yet, one could not function without the other. deuce needed ace as much as ace needed him– they complimented each other perfectly, be as it may.

through the envy pooling in the pit of his stomach, he mustered up a smile and praised the redhead for his newest trick, applauded even. through the envy he watched as ace lit up, shining brighter than the sun in the window right next to his head, and he realized he could never compete over something he could never do.

he could never do what ace trappola does as effortlessly as breathing.

although quite similar in nature, the moon could never do what the sun does naturally. 

and, perhaps, the moon, too, had once wished to be the sun.

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @lunavixia @solxima @gabirii @erigaur @pomegranateboba //ask/comment or fill form to be added/removed! (if you're in bold i can't tag you)

[kunikame]

in another life. - w. j. moriarty

just a lil something that's been in the drafts for a while now.... 😇

warnings : mtp anime end + manga spoilers, cussing, stabbing & other mentions of killing/violence, sherlock is called a bastard twice (2 times), reader is called "beautiful" once (1) but no pronouns otherwise, ignore the "- divider -" it wont let me add the pic for some reason

w/c : 1671

maybe it was the way he carried himself, or maybe it was his selfless nature; you never knew the exact reason why you fell for the crime lord in disguise. it just.. happened.

you wouldn’t call it effortless, but you can’t call it hard either. loving william might have always been easy, but loving him never was.

loving william in a physical way was horribly hard. he was always overworked and tired– or working– and most importantly, on his merry way to rid england of the corrupt nobles. he was doing a great thing, you told yourself (the ‘but the wrong way’ remained unsaid, as always), and you couldn’t wait to see the nation become one he’s always dreamt of. a place where people feel safe, and, most importantly, equal.

only, you wanted to see it with him by your side.

yet as your eyes follow his figure and that of the accursed detective he’s grown so fond of– sherlock holmes, the bastard, that should be you– falling into the thames river, you realize that maybe, maybe he hasn’t told you the extent to how far he’s willing to go for this nation. maybe you were too naive, maybe you missed the signs, or maybe he simply didn’t trust you enough to tell you about his plans. now you’ll never know.

you remember one time you overheard the brothers arguing, liam saying “you don’t know what it’s like walking alone every step of the way” then apologizing right after, only to be met with silence. a few moments passed and you heard louis reply “you don’t know what it’s like either, brother. we started this journey together and have walked the path together, as a team. it’s only the destination you insist on reaching alone,” and now you realize, maybe you should’ve inquired about the meaning behind his words.

except, you didn’t. you thought if it’s something important, liam will tell you sooner or later. spoiler alert, he didn’t.

now all you feel is the betrayal settling in your heart because while everyone else knew, they never thought about telling you. no “oh hey, by the way, your boyfriend is going to sacrifice himself soon, but no worries we got sherlock on the job”– a plan which backfired since both of them jumped– nothing. what hurt the most was not even liam thought to tell you.

and here comes the guilt baring its teeth, biting into your heart and lungs and suddenly you can no longer breathe or hear anything other than the ringing in your ears– you never even got to say goodbye. he was just going to die without saying anything. he just.. left you there.

when you saw their bodies splash into the river you felt like a part of yourself drowned with them. with him.

the days after the incident were a blur. you don't quite remember anything through a whole month after they jumped. everyone around you slowly realized you knew nothing of the plan. albert couldn't talk to you about it very long as he got locked up. moran disappeared off the face of the earth soon after. all you had were fred, james and louis, and perhaps they were all you needed. every step of the way, they stood by your side.

you were a team after all. since your younger days. there were more of you back then, but, maybe the 4 of you could go on until you reunite with albert– and hopefully moran– somewhere down the path.

3 months. 3 months have passed.

days turned into weeks, weeks into months.

you missed william dearly each day, but you are not as depressed as you were anymore. louis has been made leader of m16, albert was still sitting in his cell, moran was still missing and fred was tending to his flowers. some things just don't change, you chuckled.

thanks to louis' new position you had responsibilities and jobs to carry out again. you'd say it's with less people but that would be a lie. herder has finally wormed his way into the actual missions– technically. 

things start getting crazy from there. 1st a mission regarding moran, next a briefing with the older holmes, next the younger one– the absolute bastard– shows up. without william.

you take a step back– maybe you weren't over it after all, but if you stabbed him right now mycroft would kill you. louis verbalized the thoughts you all had, ".. that day, you fell down the river thames with brother william.. and now, you're the only one standing in front of us like this. can you.. please explain?"

sherlock goes to tell the story of how he awakened on a boat heading for america with bandages all over him and william both. met a guy called henry (also known as billy the kid, apparently), who was the one to patch them up and watch over them and blah blah blah– you stopped paying attention halfway. you only zoned in when he mentioned the blond.

".. i got a telegram from liam; 'help m16 for me' he said. and that's how i ended up back in london, in secret." 

when you opened your mouth to speak, fred stole the words right out of your mouth, "mr. william is .."

it hit you then. not like a punch in the face, more like a direct run in with a truck. he didn't die. he's.. he's not dead. he's alive. for the love of god, he's alive.

uncontrollable tears were streaming down your cheeks. it wasn't just a dream, wasn't just something you made yourself believe to cope with his 'betrayal'. it's real. he's alive.

the room broke out in chaos once the news registered in herder's brain. he reminded fred of his new roses, and you of your one wish coming true– it didn't last long however, as louis got right back to the point of the briefing.

"you really are just like liam."

"mr. holmes, may i have a moment?"

you couldn't help yourself, you rushed to the door after it closed behind the 2 men.

".. thank you. for that time.. and all the way until now, for not forsaking my brother.. for saving his life.. from the bottom of my heart, thank you."

william and albert went around greeting everyone in order. you stepped away and chose to gaze out the huge window while you waited. eventually, you were the only one left.

you smiled softly then; you can imagine how much those words meant to louis. they were true, though.

- divider -

yet another mission is over, and now moran is back among your little no-longer-criminal-organization group. it took fred almost being shot, a poker card from william, and a lot of convincing, but he's home. you're back to bickering and teasing each other, just like old times.

barely 2 days later, william and albert showed up, sending the tea cup fred was holding shattering. the idea of letting the 3 brothers have their reunion first was a collective agreement so you pushed louis into the hallway and shut the door softly. 

with a soft sigh, you avoided listening in on their conversation this time (much unlike the other occupants of the room; specifically herder, who went tumbling the moment the door opened).

taking the cue, the others slowly filed out of the room, leaving only you and william, who was staring at your back intently.

"you have an eyepatch now i see," you said, turning to face him.

the sun behind you illuminated your figure just right. you looked exactly like an angel would. maybe this a sign, he thinks.

"i do indeed. you've grown even more beautiful than i remember."

"flattery will get you nowhere, pretty boy," you sighed, "why didn't you tell me?"

"i couldn't, i'm sorry. you looked so happy. i couldn't bring myself to ruin it for you. for us. i thought, in the end, if i shouldered the responsibility myself, maybe you'd realize i was a monster all along. tainted, with hands covered in blood. i didn't deserve to hold you, love you, the way i was."

"you're very wrong about that. you were, are, and will always be the most beautiful and selfless soul i know– even if that whole bridge jump scene was very selfish, if i do say so myself," you move closer to him to cup his cheeks (still as soft as you remember, though slightly more bony) and caress them softly, "you deserve everything and more, liam. if the stars would make you happy i'd go and pick some for you. you should've talked to me, relied on me a little more. i thought we were a team, an unstoppable duo, you know? i can't be a duo on my own; neither can you."

"i know now. i'm sorry. are you still mad?"

you looked at him as if he hung the sun and stars himself and he believes he has an answer to that question, "i'm not mad at you. i can't be. i love you too much for that."

the love in your eyes is mirrored in his vermillion one, the burning intensity of it almost swallowing you up like the flames in a burning building, yet the warmth is friendlier– gentler – the last rays of a summer sunset by the ocean.

"never do anything like that ever again, alright blondie? promise me."

"i promise."

you remove your hand from his cheek, placing it in the small space between you and raise an eyebrow in amusement, "do you pinky promise?"

he can only chuckle and hook his pinky with yours, "i pinky promise."

the deal is sealed with a kiss filled with 3 years worth of words and emotions left unsaid.

perhaps it was meant to be like this. is this what "in another life" means? most likely not, yet still. he's a new person and so are you. your lives are not what they used to be.

maybe this is your "another life".

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[kunikame]

the moon and her stars. - lyney

warnings : lyney has zero rizz (clickbait), i made astral references again im not sorry guys, not quite love at first sight but more the steps made towards it, gender neutral, fluff

w/c : 940

the saying "eyes are the window to one's soul" is, in lyneys humble opinion, about as true as it can get.

he would know.

while he performs his magic tricks, while he takes a stroll down the streets of fontaine– whatever leisurely activity you choose, he does it while staring people directly in the eyes.

of course he doesn't stare at one person the whole time, his own lavender gaze flies from one person to another sporadically, yet he never fails to discern the emotions hidden behind them.

are they happy? sad? having a good day? a bad one, perhaps? tired? surprised? excited?

he knows.

he watches childrens eyes light up with joy when he pulls their card out of his hat– he observes the couple arguing a few steps away, notices when the brunette's eyes shift from pure sadness to betrayal.

he sees.

which is why he also notices when someone lacks these qualities. if there is no joy, there is no shine– no life behind a person's eyes.

he wonders why your eyes seem so empty when your smile feels genuine.

perhaps you're like him, hiding burdens you desperately wish would forever stay locked up, yet you yearn for a companion to share your pain.

he has his siblings, but who do you have?

lyney approaches you one time (be it out of sheer fascination or simply seeking a change of pace, he's not quite sure) after an impromptu show he put on for some kids in the middle of the street with a singular white rose in his possession.

"hello there, you seem to be not quite enjoying the show tonight. may the great magician lyney be of any service, perhaps?"

he removes his hat with a flourish and bows, holding out the rose as an offering to you.

you lift your gaze from the book you were reading, surprised he took notice of your presence. upon noticing the rose a pleased hum escapes you, and lyney notices a fragment of what one might call 'entertainment' behind your gaze.

"did you know white roses symbolize young love and eternal loyalty, sir lyney? was your approach made with such intentions to be conveyed on this starry night?"

your tone is teasing and amused, and he is well aware of it, but whatever mirth you might be feeling doesn't quite reach your eyes, and so with a snap of his fingers and an elegant shake of the rose, he produces 8 more of them in an unarranged bouquet he hopes you will accept.

"not quite, i'm afraid. i was more so referring  to the symbolization of new beginnings, but if you so prefer i would not at all mind changing the meaning. or the color, if you wish," he says, brushing his hand over the roses, which have now turned a darker orange.

"'fascination', i see," you hum, "interesting choice. is there a reason for it?" you have now discarded your book entirely, giving the blond all your attention, as if hanging onto each word he says, yet seemingly not quite caring about any of them either. it confused lyney, but it fascinated him even more.

"are you aware of what people say about eyes?" you nod, inclining your head slightly, curiosity piqued, "they are the window to the soul. i've found that claim to be truthful until the day i first met eyes with you."

"is this your attempt at wooing me, sir lyney? i regret having to inform you it's not quite working."

"not yet, no. i simply wished to compliment you. your eyes are one of, if not the most beautiful i've ever seen. but, if i may be so bold as to ask, why must you suppress your emotions from being seen in them?"

your eyes flicker away momentarily and lyney pauses. perhaps he might lose this battle tonight.

"i do not wish for them to be perceived by none other than myself. i believe it's better– nobody can use my emotions against me this way."

"why would anyone do such a thing?"

your eyes meet his then, and the world stops. everyone around him disappears and suddenly it's just you and him in this bubble universe you've created– or perhaps you haven't created it, it was simply made for you. you are the center of it and lyney has to fight to find his place (he chooses the one that's closest to the sun– to you). may he crash and burn if he has to, if the universe decides he's meant to, he simply wishes to be as close as you let him. 

if the eyes are the window to the soul– or to put it differently– to the heart, then lyney is certain what you see in his is the adoration he holds for you. even though he doesn't quite know you yet, you fascinate him to no end and he will not stop at the ends of the universe– he will go further and further, as far as his legs carry him, to know everything about you.

he has come to agreement with these feelings of his, they are the reason he chose to approach you in the first place.

he is, however, rendered speechless when your eyes suddenly seem filled with an affection and longing he can't say he's been looked at with before.

"you tell me, sir lyney. would you do such a thing?"

you smile at him then and may the god of justice strike him down where he stands lest his words are lies, but you put the moon and all her stars to shame.

"to you? never."

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