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flamingpudding · 7 months ago

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Triple Identity Crisis

Danny had a problem. If it was a big one, he couldn't tell yet but he was partially sure Clockwork was at fault for this. Or at least he wanted to blame his ghostly godparent who most likely just wanted to cause some chaos for entertainment with the pretext of helping Danny. Which was a very likely reason for why Danny had a problem right now.

As it was the former Fenton now Fenton-Wayne boy was pacing his room in the Manor trying to think what is next step should be, because as it was his 'new' family –Did new still apply if he was living with them for a little more than a year now? – knew him under three different Identities now. And to top it all off they were not aware that the three identities were all pretty much connected as one.

For one. His family, knew him as Danny, the space obsessed kid, who became a meta because of his ectobiology science obsessed parents and his teenager recklessness. A kid that was actually a genius if you gave him enough time for school and could make you anything out of a ancients be damed toaster. That was the Danny they mainly knew. The Kid they took in, let in on the family business and then chose, to the happiness of Alfred and dismay of some of his 'new' siblings, normal life over vigilante life.

Then they knew Phantom. A dead ghost hero that was helping the Justice League and Young Justice to help them deal with the aftermath of the huge fallout caused by the GIW, Guys in White or rather Ghost Investigation Ward. And while Danny didn't know he had apparently worked with nearly his entire family and that time he knew it now. Which was awkward because he had pretty much pestered one of his elder brothers about his condition until Red Hood, aka Jason, let Phantom help him. Ancient, things might get awkward if that secret is lifted. He had done a lot of things Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan and Robin had scowled him for. Thankfully they only thought of him as a dead teen hero and didn't know what a Halfa was. So they didn't make the connection, and he had yet to meet Signal, aka Duke as Phantom.

Now came the third identity, which totally did not happen by his choice. After all officially he hadn't accepted the throne yet and would only get it once he was dead dead not half dead. To bad ancient texts don't care about formalities. So when trouble hit the fan really hard the Justice League Dark had the bright Idea of getting some other worldly help. Which in other words was summoning the Ghost King. Oh boy, was it fun to learn that way that Danny could get summoned against his will. Clockwork did not give him that warning when he told him about the future of his afterlife. But best of all? Oh he doesn't get summoned as Phantom which would have made things maybe a bit easier, oh no. Life wasn't easy. He got someone's in some as a super weird black-green mass of a formless eltrich body with sharp teeth, claws and glowing green eyes with no pupils or irises. Hell Danny even scared himself when he saw his own reflection in a window and he didn't have a single idea how to change his form.

Let it be known that Danny acted then on purpose like he didn't know a single person in that room he had been summoned in right out of his bed and that he wasn't staring at his adoptive father like he needed help who interpreted his stare as the ghost king sizing him up. And Danny knows this because Dick had a good laugh about that at the dinner table with the rest of his siblings.

Now a smart person would probably come clean to his family and explain to them the three identities they knew him under and how they are connected.

To bad Danny wasn't 'smart' when it came to things like that. No in his panic and newfound awkwardness of the situation of what he had done on separate occasions with his identity as Phantom AND Ghost King, he decided to keep acting like he didn't knew them personally like the truely does. Really how hard could that be? Besides he liked the way his family treated him now. He didn't want to get treated differently because he was half dead, or a Ghost King. He liked that his family was treating him as plain old Danny who had an obsession with space and was their quirkily little brother with powers.

So that gave him even more incentive to keep the act up. Even if it was hard at times, especially if he got summoned out of nowhere. It would be easier if he could get a hang of the duplication power. He even had played with the thought of getting one of his ghost rogues to help but his family was perceptive. Maybe not perceptive enough to realise that all three identities were one and the same person but they would notice if Danny acted just slightly different or if Phantom was more of then usually. But somehow he still managed to keep it up.

But it was the hard way that he learned, Danny was bad at doing the 'talking' and realized that maybe Jazz was right and he was going to slip up one day causing huge misunderstandings like right now.

He stared down at Batman and Nightwing in his Ghost King form. Red Hood had his guns pulled on him, Wonder Woman and Superman looked like they where going to try to pull back Batman any second now while Nightwing, maybe at first was going to try to calm down the bat but Danny was pretty sure the eldest bat kid was now fiercely glaring at him too. He was also pretty sure the only reason he didn't see Red Robin or Robin threaten him too was because their super friends were somehow holding them back. For their own or his safety he doesn't know at the moment.

Because apparently the Bats did not fear fighting otherworldly beings to protect one of their own.

"What did you just say about Danny Fentons death?!" Batman grunted out and Danny just knew his adoptive father was glaring at him. Ancients Danny cursed his brain to mouth filter right now. As he had the collective hero scene before him staring at his Ghost King form. Would this be a good or bad moment to come completely clean or maybe he should find some kind of philosophical bullshit of 'All things death belong to him'....

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centrally-unplanned · 1 year ago

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We (somewhat rightly) mock the 2000's era fansub translation notes for their otaku fixations and privileging of trivia over the media, but they should be understood as serving their purpose for a bit of a different era in the anime fandom. Take this classic:

Like, its so obvious, right? Just say "pervert", you don't need the note! Which is true, for like a 'normie' audience member who just wants to watch A TV Show - but no one watching, uh *quick google* "Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne" in 1999 is that person. The audience is weebs, and for them the fact that show is Japanese is a huge selling point. They want it to feel as 'anime' as possible; and in the west language was one of the core signifiers of anime-ness. 2004 con-goers calling their friends "-kun" and throwing in "nani?" into conversations was the way this was done, and alongside that a lexicon of western anime fandom terminology was born. Seeing "ecchi" on the screen is, to this person, a better viewing experience - it enhances their connection to otaku identity the show is providing, and reinforces their shared cultural lexicon (Ecchi is now a term one 'expects' anime fans to know - a truth that translator notes like this simultaneously created and reflected).

But of course your audiences have different levels of otaku-dom, and so you can't just say 'ecchi' and call it a day - so for those who are only Level 2 on their anime journey, you give them a translation note. Most of the translation notes of the era are like this - terms the fansubber thought the audience might know well enough that they would understand it and want that pure Japanese cultural experience, but that not all of them would know, so you have to hedge. The Lucky Star one I posted is a great example of that:

Its Lucky Star, the otaku-crown of anime! You desperately want the core text to preserve as much anime vocab as possible, to give off that feeling, but you can't assume everyone knows what a GALGE is - doing both is the only way to solve that dilemma.

This is often a good guideline when looking at old memetically bad fansubs by the way:

This isn't real, no fansub had this - it was a meme that was posted on a wiki forum in 2007. Which makes sense, right? "Plan" isn't a Japanese cultural or otaku term, so there is no reason not to translate it, it doesn't deepen the ~otaku connection~.

Which, I know, I'm explaining the joke right now, but over time I think many have grown to believe that this (and others like it) is a real fansub, and that these sort of arbitrary untranslations just peppered fansub works of the time? It happened, sure, but they would be equally mocked back then as missteps - or were jokes themselves. Some groups even had a reputation for inserting jokes into their works, imo Commie Subs was most notable for this; part of the competitive & casual environment of the time. But they weren't serious, they are not examples of "bad fansubs" in the same way.

This all faded for a bunch of reasons - primarily that the market for anime expanded dramatically. First, that lead to professionally released translations by centralized agencies that had universal standards for their subs and accountability to the original creators of the show. Second, the far larger audience is far less invested in anime-as-identity; they like it, but its not special the way its special when you are a bullied internet recluse in 2004. They just want to watch the show, and would find "caring" about translation nuances to be cringe. And since these centralized agencies release their product infinitely faster and more accessibly than fansubs ever did, their copies now dominate the space (including being the versions ripped to all illegal streaming sites), so fansubs died.

Though not totally - a lot of those fansub groups are still around! Commie Subs is still kicking for example. They either do the weird nuance stuff, or fansub unreleased-in-the-west old or niche anime, or even have pivoted to non-anime Japanese content that never gets international release. But they used to be the taste-makers of the community; now they are the fringe devotees in a culture that has moved beyond them. So fansubs remain something of a joke of the 90's and 2000's in the eyes of the anime culture of today, in a way that maybe they don't deserve.

#may have said this before - it be that way sometimes #anime culture discourse

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kenobers · 22 days ago

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what would a bat do | jason todd blurb

or jason finds you crying and decides to shoot first and ask questions later. gn!reader a/n: could be read as romantic or platonic

Jason is a lot like Bruce. He does not see this as a positive.

To be fair, "You're acting like Bruce" is the verbal equivalent of hitting below the belt for him and his siblings. Being compared to your parent is a devastating below in any sibling argument, but with their...respectively unique relationships with Bruce, it's downright lethal. Especially for Jason, who still hasn't found complete security with their father.

So, Jason only compares himself to Bruce with blinders on. He does it every time he snaps at someone just to get them off his case. He cringes every time he decides to go off the grid and shut everyone out instead of confronting his feelings. "You're acting like Bruce" echoes in his head as he draws a mental Venn diagram and desperately fills the opposing sides.

The worst is when he catches his reflection glowering back at him; if he had a nickel for every time he mistook it for Bruce sneaking up on him…

He only sees his father in himself when he's angry. When he's so blinded by the nauseating need for vengeance that the line between Hood and Bat start to blur. When all he can see is the mission. When he realizes just how much he’s chosen to isolate himself.

One of the reasons he hides as much of his face as possible is because then no one can tell him he looks just like a bat when he bares his teeth. He wears his emotions on his sleeve instead of leaving it to anyone's guess. He makes absolutely sure that there's no mistaking him for Batman.

All of this to mixed results, of course.

Because despite all of his valid issues with Bruce, deep down Jason knows that Bruce Wayne is still a good man.

And although he doesn’t quite realize it, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to admit that Bruce Wayne raised Jason Todd to be a good man.

Bruce is why Jason always holds the door open for the person behind him. Every time Jason buys a coffee, he pays for the next handful of customers, something he consistently watched Bruce do. Whenever a child talks to him, Jason always crouches to their eye level…that’s Bruce too.

That’s not to give Mr. Wayne too much credit. Jason Todd has had a good heart from the moment he was born. He never needed anyone to tell him to leave the world a better place than he found it. Just because he has an anomalous method of doing so doesn’t make that any less true.

But there are certain things, instincts, that Bruce cemented in his mind. Like knowing when to ask questions first and when to ask them later.

Like when he finds you crying just now.

He’d sent you a text earlier in the day. Something completely unrelated to your well being, something incredibly unimportant actually. Still, your lack of response made him anxious, so he went to check on you. Just to make sure you weren't, like, dead or something.

There's a split second of awkward silence as you both stare at one another. But you hardly have time to wipe your tears and blubber out, "Oh, hey, what's up," before Jason's engulfing you in a bear hug.

That's when you know you don't need to hold it together. That's when you know it's safe to completely fall apart.

Jason doesn't need to ask questions just yet. You don't need him asking questions. You both know he'll get answers, whether from you or his own investigation. For now he'll stay quiet, sans a few whispered comforts. He could try being a man of many words. He’s more than capable of waxing poetics. It’s just that he knows he can come across as mean and abrasive, even when he’s trying to be kind and soft.

Another way he’s like Bruce.

Nevertheless, he’s got two big strong arms that can speak for him. They’ve got you. They’ll protect you from whatever’s got you feeling like this.

One large hand anchors you to him. It holds you steady as your body shakes with sobs. The other cradles your head, every so often moving to pat your back whenever you hiccup.

You can hide your face in his chest. Ride along with the subtle rise and fall of it. Let the gentle sound of his heart beat drown out the sound of your stressors. He doesn’t care about the damp spot you’re leaving on his shirt. He just cares about you.

Jason is a rock, an absolute pillar of a human being. He can stand there for as long as you need. He can support your weight and hold you up if you’re too exhausted to do it yourself.

When you decide that you want to talk about it, then he tries to be all ears. He sits you on the couch and wraps an arm around you as you rest your head on his shoulder. Occasionally, his thumb drifts up to wipe your stray tears away.

He listens as best he can. He definitely would've dealt with your issue differently if he were you. In a different era, he would've let you know exactly what he would do - more likely, he would've just gone and done it for you. But he can recognize that this is probably a healthier way to deal with whatever upset you. And you know what, he can respect that too.

After you've vented until there's nothing left to say, Jason stays with you. It's that nagging voice that tells him that he has to make sure you're really okay, that you're not about to do something stupid as soon as he takes his eyes off you. After all, that's what he would do.

So he puts something on the tv. A show, a movie, a YouTube compilation, video essay - something he knows you like. He doesn't look away from you the entire time. He sits at the ready to catch any stray tears or soothe any sudden bursts of rage.

Until you fall asleep on his shoulder. He sits like that for another few minutes before he finally transfers you to your bed, tucking you in with so much care. The only sound he makes is a sharp gasp when he catches his reflection in your window.

Then he sits some more, still watching you closely. He watches until he's certain you're sound asleep, ignorant to the things that hurt you.

Then he slips out the window without a peep, off to get your justice.

That's exactly what Bruce would do.

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tsukii0002 · 7 months ago

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My demons' periods cycles. By Mc

Note: these are purely my headcanons at the moment, they are based on animal ethology and behaviours that I think would suit each character depending on their personality and Lore. I would love to read your headcanon in case you have them.

Warning: Long text. Possible grammatical errors. It's written as if Mc was writing for themself.

Hey, it me Mc, the best human. Here is a compilation of the behaviours of my demons during their periods, cycles, for practical day to day use. It wasn't easy but I sat them down and got to talk to them, with a little effort I now know what they need. So now I am ready to assist them during these complicated times and be prepared in case I find a dead goat on the porch as a tribute.

Lucifer, Mammon & Levi || Satan, Asmo, & Beel || Belphie, Barbatos & Diavolo || Simeon & Raphael

Satan

Light damages his eyes, and during his period he does not sleep at all.

During his cycle, the plaques that extend from his tail to his entire body become more pronounced and acquire a bioluminescent coating. As do its horns. Beware, they prick.

Some parts of his body grow feathers (I think this is a "side" effect of his birth). He aggressively plucks them out, help him not to hurt himself.

His teeth grow continuously, he has to be sanding them (biting things or his own tail). Other than that he doesn't groom much.

Satan doesn't have a fixed place to spend his heat, and although he likes to "nest" he doesn't know how to do it well, which frustrates him a lot. Help him, you already have experience (I think that's why he has chosen my room as his favourite place)

Depending on the weather he may make something more like a nest or a burrow.

Satan is terribly territorial, even with his siblings. He has had a run in with Cerberus from time to time. Please don't let that happen, the house won't hold.

Satan does not have a pre-heat period as such, but you can tell it is coming because he becomes more taciturn and solitary.

Raw meat is his main food, which is what he goes out to hunt very often because he needs a lot of it, but make sure he doesn't eat more than his capacity or it will make him sick. One way to do this is to feed him yourself (I think he thinks you have hunted for him if you do this).

Satan is the only one who haunts other demons and even souls of the condemned.

It is the only one that has fought other demons. Any living thing within 100 metres of him is encroaching on his territory, which is a problem because he moves so much for hunt.

Satan becomes non-verbal. But he does not use noises to communicate, only physical contact.

Growls and roars are reserved for threats and warnings (in other words, to communicate with everyone but you).

He likes physical contact, but is afraid to get close in case he hurts you (his tags and tail), you won't deny him comfort so be careful and that's it.

Satan produces pheromones, but does not usually mark.

His way of courting is to offer you resources, especially prey (he wants to prove he can feed you), it's not the first time he's brought you a live demon. Once he brought you a Little D, the poor thing kept shaking.

Satan's senses are heightened to the extreme. Many stimuli upset him and he has fits of rage. talk to him, so that he focuses his attention on your voice, that will calm him down. Lucifer's voice calms him down a lot too (but it's a secret)

All these changes (hormonal, behavioural…) are not good for his anger, the poor thing gets very angry without knowing why.

Satan's temperature is a reflection of his activity, when he is on the move it increases and when he stops it decreases.

During periods of low activity he curls up next to you, holding your hand (for fear of hurting you) with his pupils fully dilated, don't be fooled, he is fully alert and ready to attack.

Satan purrs? YES! It's the purr that most resembles a cat (that will make him happy, but don't tell him, the avatar of wrath has his pride).

Mc: *in their bedroom helping Satan* Here is ok?

Satan: *looking at them and nodding*

Mc: Making a nest is complicated… are you sure this is okay?

Satan: *standing next to them and rubbing his cheek with their cheek *

Mc: *smiling* Okay, let's go to the next part.

Satan: *grunting at a demon that's approached the house*

Mc: Satan!!! Satan stop!!!

Demon: *paralyzed with fear*

Mc: *hugging* Satan now, let him go, he's going, he's goi- agh!

Satan: !!!

Mc: *cut themself with his tail* It's okay, it's nothing.

Satan: *guilty look*

Mc: *taking him by the hand* Don't worry, this heals fast.

Satan: *nodding still guilty, squeezing their hand*

Demon: …. I thought I was dying!!!!

Satan: *purring as he presses his chin on Mc*

Mc: *talking to him to calm him down* And remember you don't have to go out every day, there's plenty of food here….

Satan: *purring more loudly*

Mc: But if you see my great uncle's soul, the one from the village, it's all yours.

Satan: *nodding with a smile*

Mc: *laughing* How trustworthy, you're awesome Satan.

Asmo

Although he spends most of his time awake, he needs to sleep.

He can be just as active during the day as he is at night (like arachnids).

For him to sleep, you have to be right next to him or he won't sleep.

Asmo needs to nest completely under cover, underground, but prefers the safety of his home to going outside. So he improvises a burrow in his room.

During his period the scales of his exoskeleton become shiny and velvety coated, as do his wings and horns.

Them take on a more striking fuchsia colour than usual. It will be one of the few times you will be able to see Asmo's tail with its sting.

He preens himself a lot, moistening its wings, polishing its scales... At first he is a little reluctant to be helped, but later he will be constantly asking for your help.

More than territorial, Asmo is possessive. He doesn't want you to leave his side, sometimes with his siblings too. If he smells a scent of someone else in his tribe, good luck to that individual.

Asmo doesn't have pre-heat, you'll just wake up one day with all your clothes gone and you'll know it's started.

Asmo's diet during its cycle is varied, although its consumption increases, ranging from fresh meat, fluids of all kinds, to poisonous substances such as flowers, mushrooms or other live animals. Be sure to allow some time to pass before he kisses or bites you.

If you get him a rare poisonous plant, he will be happy and content.

He can talk normally, but he will also make clicking sounds to indicate his mood.

Lots of pheromones, Asmo produces lots and lots of pheromones during his period, pheromones that he will use to mark his territory. Often his siblings can't be near him. You don't have that problem

Asmo is very needy to contact, hug him, give him kisses, caress his wings, his hair. He will be happy to let you.

And he will return the gesture, he will bite you too (always have your first aid kit handy). He will always try to be on top of you or for you to be on top of him.

Asmo's courtship consists of exsivating while performing a dance (like scorpions), this dance is complex and elaborate, and during it he releases a large amount of pheromones.

He gets very confused when you don't react to it, Asmo I'm sorry but I can't smell your pheromones, sometimes he even gets sad.

His senses are very developed, especially his sense of smell, which is more developed than any of his siblings. Make sure the flowers in his room are enchanted so that they don't emit odour and with perfumes and other fragranced products the same or he can get hurt.

Asmo's temperature will generally drop, but he will go through periods of very high fever (due to his sin) which will leave him tired.

During fever peaks he will become very active, and will devote most of his time to courting. To balance this out you will have to COURT him yourself, you'd better improve that dance.

Because of his temperature, he will spend most of his time hiding in the burrow, demanding your cuddles.

He purrs? , yes, in an adorable and soft way. It is easy to make him purr, with a simple praise.

Asmo: Kiss? *with Mc sitting on his lap*

Mc: Not yet Asmo.

Asmo: *with teary eyes* Don't you love me anymore?

Mc: *sighing* Asmo, my life, my heart, you just ate three nightshade roots.

Asmo: *almost crying* And?

Mc: I love you very much but I also want to live.

Asmo: My nose itches.

Mc: Wait a bit longer, I'm finishing enchanting the flowers.

Asmo: *sad * It would be less trouble to remove them…

Mc: But you like them, don't you?

Asmo: Mc..

Mc: *hugging him* I'm here to help you and to make you comfortable, if you like the flowers, the flowers stay.

Asmo: Love you so much!

Asmo: *dancing with a very high fever*

Mc: Asmo, you are so beautiful… you can rest now.

Asmo: *staring at them non-stop*

Mc: *blushing while standing up * You leave me no choice *starts dancing and grabs Asmo by the waist*

Asmo: ?! Are you courting me?! * excited*

Mc: *Grabbing him in their arms to take him to rest* Yup, it worked?.

Asmo: I'm all yours, Mc, from the beginning…

Beel

Light is not a problem for him, although he prefers darkness.

During his period, the exoskeleton hardens and plates of it appear all over his body, and his horns become iridescent.

In addition, its wings become ribbed in a pattern, which at first glance is very beautiful. The more complex the pattern, the more attractive it is. You always see his wings as beautiful, but you agree with him, Beel deserves it.

He does a lot of grooming, which is lovely to see, because Beel is a bit clumsy and needs constant help, he has been injured a few times and you don't want that to happen again.

There are some flies and other insects that lay their nests underground. In Beel's case he has a small gallery dug in the garden, which he uses for storage too.

Beel at the beginning of the cycle may be in the house, but as he progresses he will be in his gallery.

More than territorial, he becomes protective of you and his siblings (he once kidnapped Luke), so when he is in his gallery he feels bad, because his desire to protect them is crushed by his need to be hidden.

Beel has a very marked pre-heat, in which he accumulates large quantities of food in his small cave and his appetite doubles. All the inhabitants of the house join in at this time to cook.

In contrast, during his period of heat his activity is reduced and his appetite decreases, this does not mean that he does not eat, he eats more often but in much smaller quantities and from storage (food that does not spoil).

He will insist on feeding you constantly, prepare indigestion medicine, you will need it.

Beel becomes totally non-verbal, be prepared to become an interpreter, he communicates with grunts, clicks and buzzes his wings.

Lots of buzzing, it's not the first time you've been hit by his wings, with the different buzzes he makes all sorts of claims and they have a high communicative range, you'll just need some time to figure it out.

His pheromones are strong, and he will mark, although he does it unconsciously.

As I said, he likes to have his family around him, but when he can't, anxiety takes over, vibration and physical contact calms him down. The easiest thing to do is to lay him on your chest and talk to him while stroking his hair or wings.

Beel's courtship is complex, first he feels the need to prove he can be a good provider, so he will constantly enlarge and improve his gallery.

And then there is the display of his wings, patterning and rhythmic, synchronised movements and buzzes to impress you.

He sleeps more than usual, will want you to sleep in his arms, and usually does so perched on one of his walls, hopefully you won't develop vertigo….

His senses are not as sharp as those of his siblings, but he becomes much more agile and has much better reflexes.

Beel's temperature increases, due to the continuous movement of his wings (insects produce a lot of heat when flying), but when he is at rest he tends to cool down.

Beel's purr is a mixture of a buzz and a vibration, he will purr when he is calm and content.

Beel was a little worried about how you might react because many humans detest insects. Be sure to praise his wings and other attributes, because this demon is adorable.

Mc: So this is your lair?

Beel: Yes… I decided to keep it from period to period to not destroy the garden…

Mc: I think it's very practical!!! It must be very cool in summer.

Beel: Do you really think so?

Mc: Yes, and cosy too, you're an artist Beel.

Beel: *smiling as he blushes*

Beel: *grunts*

Mc: Beel I can't take anymore…

Beel: *holding out a piece of fruit to them* *buzz*

Mc: Really Beel, I'm going to explode…

Beel: !! *hugging them*

Mc: It's a figure of speech… but can you eat my share… please.

Mc: *sleeping hugging Beel in one of the corners of his gallery*

Beel: *caressing them with his cheek*

Mc: It's all right Beel?

Beel: *crackling with worry*

Mc: Don't worry... Lucifer is with them… and the others will take care of Lucifer for you.

Beel: …*cradling them adoringly*

Mc: And I'll take care of you, so rest…

If you have made it this far thanks you 🩷

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xanaxspritz · 10 months ago

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𝙙𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙨 ♡

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚𝙖𝙠𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙'𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙙˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

cw: bf!megumi, college AU, cheating, breeding, possible impregnation, cowgirl

an: I put cw here for a reason, so if this work makes you uncomfortable in any sort of way or if you're a minor, please do not interact. this is a work of fiction and what i write here does not reflect my own values or experiences.

ʚ♡ɞ˚

megumi was a sweet boyfriend. he sent good morning texts daily, was always ready to drop everything if you were in need across campus, and even warmed up to pda because you liked it so much. you couldn't ask for anything better.

but his father was a different story. undeniably a dilf, you couldnt help but to stare at the way his arms bulged out of his compression shirt he always wore, hugging his torso just right to show off his abs. you couldnt but to take a peak at his lap when lounged in grey sweats, watching TV with his legs spread wide open, as if he was daring you to take a seat on top.

it didn't help that he would stare at you, every time you visited megumi at home. the heat of his eyes lingering a bit too long on you heated up something dark within you.

the tension between you and toji kept rising and rising, until one day you went to the fushiguro residence to retrieve something you left. you find toji in the kitchen, eating his lunch, his lips curling up into a smirk when he sees you.

"megumi ain't here you know" he says food still in his mouth.

"i know. just forgot something," you say nervously.

"was it this?" he takes out neon pink panties from his pocket. you are mortified.

"oh my god. im so sorry mr. fushiguro. i promise i'll never-"

"always knew you're a little slut. i can always tell with little girls like you"

"what? what do you mean?" you feel your face grow hotter.

"don't pretend like you aren't, " he chuckled. "always teasing me with those super short skirts barely covering your ass. i can even see your pushup bra through your shirt." you cross your arms instinctively. "i didn't think megumi had it in him," he continued. "but it seems like you've got him wrapped around your finger."

you were speechless. was mr. fushiguro actually hitting on you?

"tell me doll, is he good enough for you? is he fucking you right?"

by this point toji rose up from his chair, inching closer to you until youre back up on the kitchen counter. you can something on the side of your thigh.

"y-yes mr. fushiguro, he's a great boyfriend. i-i couldn't ask for any better," the wetness you can feel in your panties betrays your words.

"hm, is that so?" his hands wandering behind you to squeeze your plump ass. he snaps your panty band before feeling up between your legs.

"already wet f'me you dirty slut," leaning down closely to your, lips centimeters apart. "how naughty."

you crash your lips into his desperately, weeks of sexual tension building up to a make out session. his lips are surprisingly soft, and his breath is a comforting smell of tobacco. "call me toji," he nuzzles into your neck.

one thing turns into another and you found yourself in the master bedroom, bouncing on top of toji's huge cock.

"that good baby, keep riding me just like that," he whispers slapping and grabbing your ass. "i bet he doesn't fuck you like i do, ain't that right?"

"n-no mr. fushiguro!"

"i thought I told you to call me toji," he narrowed his eyes, picking up the pace faster.

your moans get louder as his thick, fat cock pounded you. his heavy balls slapped against your ass, you close your eyes in pure bliss, your tits bouncing in his face.

"i wonder what would happened if i filled you up with this daddy dick. think megumi would notice you pregnant with my baby, hm?"

the thought of toji cumming in you was exhilarating, you quickly nod your head yes, holding him tighter as he digs his fingers into your hips.

he laughs at your eagerness. "figured a little whore like you would love it. fuck- are you ready?"

you feel his warm cum filling you up as toji grunts. his load is thick and creamy, the excess dripping down your thighs.

he quickly replaces his cock with his fingers, plugging the cum inside you, keeping you nice and full.

"you're a good fuck," he sighs. "no wonder megumi keeps you around."

right, megumi. how would you even begin explaining to this to him? should you even tell him? the overwhelming guilt consumes your thoughts.

toji notices the visible worry you're sporting on your face. "hey doll, don't worry. I'm not gonna tell him," he reassures. "as long as you don't either. just keep coming back when he's not home so I can cum inside that pretty pussy again."

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x you #toji x reader #toji x female reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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cho-aaacho · 10 months ago

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Jealousy isn't really your style, is it?

Masterlist

Characters : Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi, and Choso.

Gojo Satoru

He becomes increasingly silent—too silent until you can't detect his emotion. His appetite vanished as waves of jealousy showered on his mind. You don't even notice that at first, thinking he might be tired from work.

However, as the sun goes down to the horizon and is replaced by the moonlight, his smile fades whenever your eyes meet his. He refrains from calling you endearing nicknames, skips the usual sensual morning kiss, and avoids his favorite cookies. When you suggest playing video games, Gojo simply groans and leaves you alone.

What's happening to him? Did you hurt your sweetheart? No. Until the sky falls, you don't have a heart to hurt your sweetheart.

You can't let the stillness linger; you can't leave everything unresolved. It's so hurtful, to be honest. Why would Gojo be so selfish like this? You need to find out what's going on with your little sweetheart.

That night, Gojo stood in his favorite spot within the apartment, drowning in the beautiful goldfish in the aquarium. Golden and yellow, reflected in his eyes like sunflower petals.

He gently tapped his finger on the aquarium's glass, making the whole atmosphere feel so cold. Gojo seemed unusually relaxed, in contrast to the person he once was.

"I know I might come off as a boring and annoying man. People often say that, and I usually don't care about it at all because I understand it's not important. But when it comes from you—please... I don't want to hear that."

You do not quite understand what he means, but Gojo appears deeply hurt. His azure eyes, his words, his breath, the cologne he uses this time, the way he gazes at you—something feels off and unplaced.

This is the first time you've seen him so blue and so pained that the warmth in his lovely presence is almost undetectable. Everything is gone.

"Hey, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but it hurts me when you smile at other guys. I want you to be mine, and only mine, and no one else. Please don't do that again, because you're irreplaceable. If I lose you, I can't find another like you."

Geto Suguru

At first, he doesn't show his jealousy because Geto is the sweetest.

However, there comes a moment when he becomes more affectionate—increased physical touch, frequent kisses, hugs, showering you with praise, texting you almost every hour.

And when he does these things, he always leaves a sarcastic comment like, "I'm a better man, aren't I?" or "Can you see how much I care about you more than anyone else?"

and "I hope you're not blind enough to understand my affection."

also "I know you're not stupid enough to leave me alone. Because I hate being a loner."

It's somewhat annoying because Geto rarely behaves like this. It's simply... so strange, leaving you confused about whether it's a prank by the twins, if something horrible has hit him, or maybe he is too much into reading a weird romantic novel.

That morning, when you are sleeping on his lap, feeling his love, warmth, and kindness, he delicately traces his fingertips across your cheeks, down to your jawline, then meanders to your nose, pinching it gently, leaving a small chuckle before circling back to playfully tease the contour of your lips.

He leaned closer, sealing a gentle kiss on the nose tip and moving before grazing your lips with a small nibble. "Did Satoru ever kiss you like this? I doubt he has done this to you."

Your eyes fluttered open, confusion etching your expression. "What do you mean, Suguru-kun?"

He sighed. "Don't think I haven't noticed, cutie. I may not match Satoru's strength, but I'm not stupid. What were you up to with him last week? You seemed quite charmed with him, didn't you?"

He added. "Should I end both of you, so he can't have you and you can't have him? But I lack the heart to harm you, sweet love. Stop talking with that man. Because I hate sharing my love with someone else."

Nanami Kento

A tough man, he doesn't even realize if jealousy is starting to invade him; perhaps you might label it as denial.

He puts on a facade that everything is fine, brushing off any concerns by assuming them to be mere imagination or work-induced stress.

No, you didn't cheat or talk with another man. You're always a nice woman to Nanami Kento, and of course, never in your wildest dreams will you hurt your man.

However, a weird sensation starts to trouble him the next day when his coworkers engage in silly gossip about him and you.

Whispers float behind him, dripping with a sarcastic tone like, "How could a good woman like her date someone like Nanami-san? He's so boring."

and someone chimes in. "Yeah, I heard she dumped Gojo-san and went with him; why does she think like that?"

From that moment onward, everything feels upside down.

Each day, each time, every time he sees your face, catches your gaze, and hears your voice echoing in his ears, all of these hurt him.

He feels like he doesn't deserve you and thinks that perhaps you can find another guy, someone special, someplace that would make you safe and happy, someone who could make you feel at home whenever you run to them.

And that man is not me.

"I realize I might not be as caring as other men, or perhaps I come off as too boring for someone like you. Honestly, I don't wish for your kindness to be shared with anyone else—even a fleeting smile from you stirs a deep ache within me. Maybe it's an obsession, but if you allow me to share my jealousy, I don't want you to meet that guy, Gojo Satoru. For heaven's sake, I fear losing all control and ending up hurting you. I love you."

Fushiguro Megumi

Honestly, his anger management is the worst. There are scenes when he appears calm, collected, and cute, but, again, it's merely a facade he is creating, especially in your presence.

When the flames of jealousy shower on Megumi, flirting with his life, everything transforms into a hellish field.

He loses his temper and becomes easily offended whenever Yuuji attempts to engage in conversation with him, roasting everyone in sight. The situation continues until Maki beats him and tells him how annoying he is.

He has a terrible urge to throw punches at everyone, driven by the need to tell them that you belong to him. He needs to make it clear that you're already committed to someone else and that your heart is sealed with Fushiguro Megumi. Only with that man and no one else.

His intention is not just to show his obsession but also to dissuade others from bothering both of you. He longs to compel them to kneel, satisfying his fleeting sense of pride.

It's pretty hilarious because whenever Gojo catches wind of it, he bursts into laughter and playfully teases Megumi all day. Well, it's natural for anyone to have jealousy within them, but... doesn't Megumi take it a bit too far?

You've observed this pattern and tried to convince your dear boyfriend that everything around him is just his imagination. He shouldn't be worrying, and he just hurts himself by treating people like that.

Yet, Megumi is Megumi.

"I don't think I'm overreacting to this. When I'm upset, I express it openly. It's frustrating when people assume I'm obsessed with you—I'm not. I just don't want you to get involved with someone who isn't worth it for you. I fear you'll end up hurt. You can choose me; I can prove not only to you but to everyone that I am the one who truly deserves you."

Choso

Choso isn't typically the jealous type, but when he notices a certain closeness between you and his brothers, everything changes.

He genuinely cares for his brothers, going to great lengths to ensure their happiness and love. He values the bond you share with his brothers and cherishes the love and affection you have for each other.

However...

It's hard for him to put it into words. Everything is stuck in his throat and sealed inside his head.

Every time he sees you with his brothers blossoming an indescribable feeling within him, it's a burning sensation that's hard to bear. The flame is starting to burn him alive.

The way you share meals with them or laugh at their jokes—all of these irritate him to the point that they make his heart beat so fast. Choso is aware that these emotions are too complicated; he can't hate his brothers, but the heart has a way of contradicting logic.

How could God put love in his heart?

He fondly recalls the first snow you experienced together, the gentle embrace of summer against his skin, and the golden glow of spring's sun.

But he still wonders when he falls in love with you. Maybe since the first time he met you? Or else?

"I find immense joy in sharing my time and days with you. My brothers seem to love you as well. Everything about you is beautiful, and I cherish the moments we share. I fear losing you and our precious time; that's why I act this way when you're with them. I want to be the one you choose."

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #choso x reader #choso x you #choso jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader

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twilightkitkat · 2 months ago

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Poolverine texting would be so hilarious because Wade would use emojis and slang and all lowercase, while Logan (who is old and set in his ways) would type in complete sentences with capitalization. Double space after the full stop and all.

It'd literally be like a Gen Z kid texting their grandma with how Wade and Logan's conversations go. Logan would 100% be a slow texter who types it all in one message (think about waiting 5 minutes just to get an "Okay. I love you. Talk to you later." text), while Wade would be an extreme yapper over text and send his scrambled thoughts out over multiple messages. Logan is astounded by how much he can type in 20 seconds even if the grammar is atrocious (he also finds it endearing as hell because it reflects how Wade talks to him in real life and it always leaves him warm inside to imagine Wade lighting up as he rants about his latest passion).

They'd also suffer from the intergenerational communication gap. The first time Logan used quotation marks for emphasis, Wade freaked the fuck out because why is he mad?? What is he insinuating by wishing him a "Good" day? How did he fuck up?? All while Logan feels proud of himself for really showing that he cares and wants Wade to have fun while he's out.

(When Wade came home with a bottle of his favorite whiskey and sweets from his favorite bakery he was touched but confused as hell. Until Wade finally revealed he thought he was mad and Logan and Wade nearly lost it when they realized the miscommunication.)

Logan isn't used to texting so he prefers to call most of the time (and so does Wade, he loves hearing Logan's voice and not having to decipher ancient texting rituals), but he makes an effort to text Wade throughout the day to let him know he's thinking about him and that he cares and misses him. Wade doesn't always get the exact meaning but his heart is in the right place and he sends long-winded rants about random shit he saw or people who annoyed him throughout the day so he and Logan never really feel apart.

#poolverine #deadclaws #kitkat #deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool movie #logan howlett #wade wilson #wade x logan #wade/logan #no angst #just poolverine generational texting habits #rip logan u tried #wade is so chdonically online he texts like a 15 year old #logan is so chronically offline he texts like hes 100 years old #(but he is so)#(free pass??)

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heich0e · 5 months ago

Text

you're almost giddy as you run your hands underneath the stream of cool water rushing from the sink's tap, an effervescence fizzling in the pit of your stomach as the sound of running water whooshes through your ears. you watch the soap suds circle the drain as your teeth bite down against the side of your cheek.

on the other side of the restroom door, you can hear the distant din of the restaurant creeping in, reminding you of where you are. the sound spurs you on and quickly, haphazardly, you shake whatever water is left clinging to the tips of your fingers away once the soap suds are gone—too eager to even bother with properly drying them. next, you fish your cellphone out from inside the little purse you'd brought with you that evening.

you tap the name at the top of your recent call log, and your roommate answers after two rings.

"date goin' so bad yer calling in the black ops squad for rescue? what's our story gonna be this ti—"

atsumu sounds entirely too pleased by the prospect of your date going badly, and it makes you all too happy to cut him off.

"it's going really well," you say, nearly breathless in your delight. it's been a while since you've been this... excited about a date. about a guy. "too well, actually."

"oh?" atsumu's voice lifts in surprise, but he doesn't say a whole lot else.

you hum affirmatively, reaching into your purse again to pull out a tube of lip gloss, pinning your phone between your ear and your shoulder to free up your hands to unscrew the lid. your eyes are fixed to the reflection of your mouth in the mirror as you swipe a thin coat across your lips. "i need a favour."

"'n what's that?" atsumu asks, his voice drying out into a monotone that indicates his distinct lack of trust.

"can you go in my room and shove any mess i left out into my closet?" you ask him before rubbing your lips together to evenly coat them in their lacquered shine.

atsumu guffaws from the other line. "'m i yer maid?"

"a second ago you were ready to go full boots on the ground as the black ops squad," you chide him. there's a moment of silence that passes in the restaurant bathroom, you can't even hear him breathing from the other line. finally, you speak again—softer this time, more sincere. "please, tsumu. i really like him."

he clicks his tongue behind his teeth in that admonishing way you hate, but there's a certain concession in the sound. "yer doing my laundry for a week."

"if the rest of the night goes as well as dinner, i'll do it for a month," you laugh, your cheeks pinching with how widely you smile.

"when are ya landin' here?"

"probably in like... an hour? we're just gonna have another drink or two." he grunts in recognition, even if he doesn't seem thrilled about it. "thanks, 'tsumie. i owe you one."

"ya owe me at least four," he grumbles. "try 'n keep it down once ya come stumblin' in all handsy and whatever, will ya? i don't need to hear all that."

"promise, promise!" you singsong. "you're the best."

"whatever," he answers with a stiff laugh, ending the call soon after.

you quickly tuck your phone back into your purse, adjust yourself one last time in the mirror, and then slip back out into the restaurant towards your waiting date.

the rest of your evening passes much the same as the rest had already unfolded—though something between you and the young man seems to shift as time goes on, turns more palpably yearning. it's no surprise that when you ask him if he'd like to come back to your place with you, he quickly agrees.

"is your roommate home?" atsushi—who you'd met at a work event a few weeks prior, and had been talking to ever since—asks quietly as you two step through the door of your higashiosaka apartment. he's pressed close to you in the genkan, a hand on your waist as he toes off his shoes, and his warmth makes you suppress a shiver.

you hum. "he sleeps like the dead though."

atsushi knows about atsumu, having revealed to him not long after you started texting that your long-time friend turned professional volleyball player is now your roommate. atsushi seemed to know who atsumu was, and even noted he looked forward to meeting him, but that would have to wait for another day.

there were more important things at hand.

you twine your fingers with atsushi's, using that grip to lead him towards your bedroom on the other side of the quiet apartment as your heartbeat thumps—hot and wet and noisy—in your chest. you close the door to your bedroom quietly behind you, and before you even have time to reach for the light switch you feel a soft pair of lips against your throat.

"oh," you gasp, your hands reaching up and threading through the silky strands of atsushi's hair.

it's an uncoordinated blur after that as you lead your date blindly towards your bed in the dark, tumbling back across it in a flurry of limbs and lust.

atsushi's hands slip up underneath the hem of your dress as he pants against your mouth. you wiggle a bit to help him ease it up over your hips, but there's something soft underneath you that makes it a bit awkward—a pillow taking up too much space. he goes to push the pillow off the bed, but it's bigger than either of you seem to anticipate.

he pulls back, squinting at it in the dark. he laughs, tugging the unexpectedly large mass up from underneath you. "what is this?"

you can't quite identify it, reaching over to your bedside table and flicking on the light to get a better look.

you really wish you hadn't.

in his hands, atsushi is holding a—not quite life-sized, but certainly much too large—pillow with atsumu in his MSBY uniform printed across it. you're so shocked by it that it takes you a moment to see anything else, but atsushi is not so fortunate.

"uh," his voice cracks a little as he peers around your room. "is this—?"

pasted on virtually any open space on your walls, and lining the various shelves and dressers of your room, atsumu's obnoxious face stares back. it's like the MSBY merch stall has set up shop in your bedroom—the only thing missing is the lineup of squealing teens fighting over the last sakusa jersey.

you're seeing red.

"i'm so sorry," you say, mortified, as you scramble upright in your bed and look at atsushi's startled face. "atsumu must have... i asked him to... oh my god."

you take the body pillow that atsushi still has clutched in his hands, more in shock than anything, and throw it onto the floor. he laughs a little, shaking his head.

"well, i definitely wasn't expecting that."

"this isn't my stuff, i swear," you insist.

he laughs again, but this time it's less strained, almost a giggle. he peeks over at you. "i believe you."

you bite your lip. "did this scare you off?"

he shakes his head, smiling shyly. "nah."

you sigh in relief as he dips down and kisses you again, cradling the nape of your neck as he leans you back in your bed once more. your head is spinning as he presses himself between your parted thighs, grinding gently against you. your eyes flutter open as you moan, but that sound turns into a small shriek of surprise that has him recoiling upright.

taped to the ceiling over your bed, almost perfectly mirroring your own position, an enormous poster of atsumu stares down at you.

that breaks you.

you slip out from underneath atsushi, standing on your bed and ripping the poster down as you reach up on your tiptoes. the sound of the glossy paper ripping is almost violently loud in the quiet of your bedroom.

"i'll be right back," you say, stiff but apologetic, to your bewildered date, before fleeing from the room.

you don't knock when you get to atsumu's room, throwing the door open and stomping inside.

he's sitting in his bed, watching something on his phone with a pair of headphones covering his ears. he looks up in surprise when you come storming in, and his gaze goes from amused to concerned when he sees the look on your face.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?" you seethe, struggling to keep your voice low in spite of your desire to scream. you're still clutching a shred of the torn poster in your clenched fist, and you toss it onto his floor angrily. he pushes his headphones down to rest around his neck.

"aw, c'mon," he laughs as he sits up a little straighter in his bed, but the sound is a bit forced. "'s just a joke."

"well, it wasn't funny."

atsumu's jaw twitches a little bit. "if the guy got scared off by a harmless little—"

"he didn't get scared off," you hiss, "no thanks to you."

that shuts him up.

"he's still in my room, by some fucking miracle." your hands are shaking, that's how angry you are. you feel sick. "i told you i really like him, atsumu. why would you do that?"

you wish you didn't sound so wounded. you wish atsumu's answering expression wasn't so blank in the wake.

"god," you say, with a mirthless laugh. "when are you going to grow up?"

if atsumu wants to say more, you don't give him the chance. you spin on your heel and head towards the door, but just before you exit the room, you look back at him one last time. your eyes are narrowed in resentment and sharpened with hurt.

"you're gonna wanna turn that volume up, because i don't plan on keeping it down for your sake."

atsumu says nothing in reply, just stares at you. there's something almost desperate in his gaze that you don't understand, and make no attempt to.

you leave his door open behind you as your final act of spite.

#atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #hq drabble #hq writing #writing #roommate!atsumu

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seelestia · 7 months ago

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⟡ within your waking thoughts (there i’ll be).

⎯ what do they do when they miss you? how do they cope with yearning when you're away? { y for yearning ノ ordered by @floraldresvi! (sorry for the ping!) }

RESERVED FOR! ノ characters. aventurine, sunday, dr. ratio ft. gn!reader. { 1.3k words }

FLAVOR! ノ genre. fluff, slight angst (my apology to sunday lovers yet again), established relationship.

TOPPINGS! ノ tags. aventurine has his tech savvy moment, pre-2.2 sunday (heavy references but no spoilers), ratio has two phones (king of separating work & personal life !!!).

BAKER’S NOTE! ノ thoughts. a repost! bcs tumblr didn't like it the first time. hopefully, this one will be here to stay. thank u to vivi for requesting this ‹3

in your absence, aventurine welcomes little thoughts of you that float around his mind with open arms - and the way he indulges them is by simply texting you. effective and efficient, there is a reason why the cosmos calls it the second most used means for long distance communication. what about the first? well, he would've opted for calling you with his earpiece if only his line of work doesn't require 90% of its usage time.

let's just say the idea of fellow stonehearts interrupting his conversation with you ruins the fun. besides, he has deft fingers; coin tricks aren't the only thing in his book, you know, typing a few sentences in one go is no problem at all.

but maybe, he is using that too much to his advantage . . . considering the “25+” staring back at you from your notifications every few hours or so. aventurine is truly, irrevocably relentless.

anything even remotely in your favorite color found within his vicinity? new message: Saw something that reminded me of you, you must really like crossing my mind.

an item he thinks would fit you well? new message: I got you a gift. Does it suit your fancy? [1 attachment]

reminded of how cruel fate is to separate you two for so long? new message: Haven't seen your face in a while. Fifteen hours are a total too cruel, don't you agree?

have faith that you will never grasp the true meaning of boredom when you’re apart from him. luck follows a man like aventurine, so do interesting events - remember how he won a vacation to a resort with one chip? he revels in telling you stories of his encounters while you're away. it is as if thrill revolves around him constantly. . . one wonders just how he fares living on the edge of it all.

(you, for one, are aware of his ways. he has allowed you to wander far enough behind his masquerade, after all.)

of course, texts on an illuminated screen can barely compare to seeing you in person. he prefers having you in his arms instead - but he'll live. solitude is an old friend of his, albeit distant and cold, aventurine can deal with its company every once in a while. at the end of the day, he knows you’ll be there when he comes home.

though, it's such a shame he cannot see your face when you're apart. the curve of your lips as you smile, the twinkle in your eyes with his reflection in them, and. . . ah, seems like he is making this harder for himself. maybe, he should consider buying that HD holographic communicative device on the market? his ears caught wind of some P45 officers at pier point whispering about it before.

it'll cost a large sum of credits but hey, he thinks it'll be worth it. for you? anything is possible.

(...him? clingy? well, guilty as charged.)

sunday’s self-discipline is not something to be underestimated. halovians are a species known for their enchanting voices, yet he feels as if he cannot spare any for even his inner thoughts. what an irony. his longing for your presence is persistent, tumbling at the edge of his tongue - but he is equally as, if not more, stubborn and so he swallows this yearning down instantly.

you are not confined to the dreamscape like he is, as self-imposed as that may be. sunday is aware of that, hence his first instinct is to keep quiet. the curse of sealing his lips till forevermore; watching you leave through the grand doors, letting his gaze fall to where your shadow used to be, savoring the last of your remaining fragrance from when you last bade him goodbye - all without a word.

(don't go, he wished he could say.)

is it a bad habit? “your voice shouldn't be used just to utter words that others want to hear,” you reminded him once. “it's also for you. it's yours.”

but even then, your words are akin to a faint whisper; muffled by the thoughts that plague his mind like a mist. he can't help how they fog up his reflection in the mirror, leaving remnants of something acrid that wafts in the air. something like doubts, sunday would know because he has dwelled in it for as long as he remembers.

you are outside, fluttering your wings in the sky and enjoying what it has to offer. does he have any rights to disturb you? perhaps, in his eyes, sunday views himself as a string tied around your talon, trailing all the way from the heavens where you soar to the humble ground where he resides. each time your absence compels him to reach out, it is as if he’s tugging on that string and dragging you lower from the height you truly relish in, from the height you deserve to be at.

(sunday believes that you belong to the sky, unlike him.)

so here, he shall stay and here, he shall wait until you return. sunday’s heart begins to grow cold - but the farewell kiss you've left on the apple of his cheek hasn't faded. its warmth remains, even when he brushes his freezing hand against it, it remains.

you remain.

(and that is enough for him.)

dr. ratio is a man with a packed schedule, so it's safe to say he keeps himself occupied particularly well. tasks at the intelligentsia guild are nothing short of demanding, after all. there are researchers asking for his input left and right, although some tremble while speaking to him even when he hasn't even uttered a word yet. ignoring that, he also aids in projects that require his expertise. last but not least, his students and classes which he takes very seriously.

(but be careful with how you phrase it — the doctor doesn't view them as distractions, no, he sees them as his responsibilities — saying the former might offend him.)

as you can see, he is perfectly capable of spending time away from you. . . .or at least, until it's time for a break and a part of that perfection chips off.

his office is quite tranquil, free from outside noise, just the way he likes. this place bears a similar purpose as his headgear, to let him focus in silence without disturbance - but he hasn't expected that exact silence to be this deafening. hah, how absurd! in what realm of possibility could silence ever be associated with deafening as an adjective? he supposes it could be a case of tinnitus. . . but veritas knows that isn't the case.

something's missing and it is, much to his dismay, you.

veritas has his standards. he prefers things to be set at a specific level - and this level of silence, one marred further by your lack of presence, is too low for him. he's getting too used to seeing you barge into his office with neatly packed sandwiches in your hands, a revelation he'd rather keep to himself.

veritas reaches for his personal phone, his work one left neglected at the far end of the desk. he considers making a call to you but the clock is ticking. tick tock tick tock, as if to hang the fact that his break is reaching its end over his head.

utilizing whatever time he has left, his finger gives the gallery app a tap. various pictures pop up on the screen; selfies of you with silly expressions, candid shots of veritas himself and some photos of random objects like your matching mugs. all of these were taken by you, of course. seriously, is this his phone or is it yours?

who knows at this point? he nearly lets out a snort, but that smile on his face is fooling no one. the doctor continues scrolling through his gallery, utterly content with just this until he gets home. to you.

(yes, yes, this still counts as keeping himself occupied. thank you for your concern.)

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated.

#hsr x reader #—stellaronhvnters.#aventurine x reader #sunday x reader #dr ratio x reader #hsr fluff #seelestial.inks #reveriesincups

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preposterousjams · 2 months ago

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My opinion on the Latino Jason Todd headcanon

While I do understand ppl's criticism of the latino Jason todd headcanon and how its kind of racist to make the kid with parents with drug problems as the latino one, to me its more of a reclamation BECAUSE of DC's racism.

Read any 80s/90s batman issue that covers gang violence and drugs, most if not ALL of the criminals are poc; black people and latinos visibly make up the majority in the poorer neighbourhoods in Gotham. Aside from the caricaturist way they r drawn/speak, its not THAT weird cause its a reflection of irl big cities where immigrants and marginalised ppl are often forced to live in such situations, (like most of my dominican family lives in the bronx... it aint racist to say dominicans tend to flock there), BUT...the weird part is when the second a sympathetic character comes from that area, he's white and has a name thats "too fancy for the streets".

Obviously, Jason was created to look like the old robin, so I can't say that the whole "diamond in the rough" situation was purposely a tad bit racist, but its still a lil weird (especially with bruce's comment).

If Jason were a part of the overwhelming demographic in his area, the good-kid-in-a-bad-area trope has less connotations. DC is currently trying to fix this trope is by making crime alley whiter, which isn't bad but they could've just yk... humanised the non-white residents.

I also feel like the messed up way Jason was treated post-death is what makes him so relatable to latino readers. His tragic story of dying while trying to save his only living relative is turned into a lesson for newer vigilantes. Jason's particular disdain for abusers on a few occasions was twisted (by both writers and characters) into him always being dumb, reckless, cocky, angry and disobedient, always violent, never having been able to get over his upbringing. None of those things were true (he was a normal level of reckless and cocky like every other robin, not more), but its an easier narrative to digest compared to how it was in reality; a kid who worked so hard and loved even harder, died to save a woman who couldn't care less about his existence. He was an emotional AND smart kid who wanted so bad to help others get better but was remembered as too emotional (in a bad way).

THIS is the reality for many latino diasporas in day to day life; Theres no question that Latino culture is passionate and emotive, but people from other cultures assume that it is followed by instead of logical. both can coexist. emotion does not mean u have no logic. Emotions can be irrational but they aren't inherently that way, and I wouldn't say that the moments where Jason lashed out as a teenager were irrational (in og runs, not rewrites post red hood), they were mostly done to protect someone (going crazy on abusers, disobeying batman to save sheila, that time he got into a fight at school to defend his friend).

A lot of euro-centric culture is OBSESSED with the idea that rationality is separate from feelings and emotions, but not crying at a funeral doesn't mean you're better than those who do. Emotions are the basis of human ethics and morals, they define the way we interact as a collective and ignoring them does not mean they are not there. Theres no winner to a contest of who can feel the less. And the way Jason's emotions are treated (pre-rh, hes definitely unhinged afterwards lol) is so in line with how white culture tends to punish those who aren't ashamed to feel.

I TOTES UNDERSTAND that some ppl who headcanon Jason as latino are doing it for the complete opposite of reasons, like "oh here some angry emotional guy with druggie parents, haha must be latino". Its weird. I dont like it. And its only brought up so he can swear in spanish in some rlly bad text post where his emotions are getting out. But to me there's so much potential for metanarrative and commentary on how latinos are treated in media that can be exemplified through the way his character is treated. Being latino would add SO MUCH DEPTH to his character and his dynamic with the others.

#this is just my rant lol #for the non-latinos who wanna write latino jason todd pls stop the spanglish... he dont even have to speak spanish at all #you can incorporate elements of his culture/upbringing (pls pick a country tho the experience is so diff everywhere)#im super biased but carribean jason>>>>#ok but like undead lore in dominican culture is crazyyyy... like the myth of zombies comes from hispanola #my grandma was genuinely terrified of waking up in her coffin bc of stories of ppl coming back to life that she wanted to be cremated #jason todd #latino jason todd #red hood #batfam

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hopeluna · 7 months ago

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heyy<3 Can you do a Katsuki x female reader comfort where the reader is getting ready for a date with him but when she's doing her makeup it isn't going the way she way she wants it to, so she gets upset and Katsuki is like comforting her? It's alr if you don't want to!!

ProHero!Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

CW: 651 words. mentions of insecurities based on looks, i aged him up as a pro hero to better fit the narrative i hope u like it <333

You sit there for what feels like years, staring at the reflection on the mirror. You decide it's absolutely pathetic. The tears that start to sting your waterline definitely don't help.

It's date night. A rare occurrence since Katsuki's missions spiked up these past few weeks, added with your work stress. Tonight was supposed to fun and relaxing.

You're feeling anything but that. Katsuki is going to be here in less than 5 minutes, as he has texted you, and here you are- still in a old t-shirt of his and worn out shorts- not ready.

It's just one of those days. The makeup on your face isn't sitting right. You've tried to do your eyeliner for the million-th time without smudging it, all the lipsticks look just wrong on you, the foundation feels more like acid on your skin the more you keep messing it up.

You know it's irrational to think about but Katsuki always looks so handsome even without trying, it's bound to be a shame to others when they see you - in all your messed up glory - alongside him.

The fan above you hums gently into the air. There are muffled conversations from the street outside, occasional shouts from kids playing and tackling each other on the ground. The light from the bathroom door you left open serves to give you a further headache. You're so focused on the throbbing ache, you don't hear the front door opening, the sound of keys.

Katsuki is rightfully startled when he walks in the room. He felt uneasy from the moment you didn't excitedly jump on him at the front door, and now the messy room and your sad face staring into the mirror. He can feel his own lips etching into a frown at the sight.

You don't seem startled from the outside when he walks up behind you, trying to make eye contact in the mirror. He squeezes your shoulder gently before speaking, "everything okay?"

You lower your head, nonchalantly gesturing to the messy table full of makeup products. Katsuki would've found your sad pout adorable if it weren't for the tears stuck to your lashes.

He lets out a low hum in understanding. Katsuki is well aware there are some days you don't particularly like how your outfits or looks turn out - he's aware of it, though he doesn't quite understand how you can't understand that he's left awestruck every time he glances at you.

His eyes flash towards you when you shuffle in your seat a little, "can we...stay in tonight?" - you look at him sheepishly, guilty for ruining the night. Katsuki only tsks at you.

"Don't be dumb thinking whatever you're thinking. Of course, we can stay in. My cooking's better than whatever restaurant we were going to go to, anyways."

30 minutes later, you feel much better with a clean face, which Katsuki insisted he help with. You had told him cheekily katsu curry when he asked what you wanted to eat. You only got a scoff in return. You tap your fingers on the cool kitchen island, softly humming at the mouth watering scent that had begun to waft through the room. The TV is muffled in the background, dimly lighting the living room with the light from the kitchen. The air is cool in a refreshing way. You think you could stay like this forever.

You frown at the sudden poke on your temple as Katsuki walks past you to the couch, hands carrying two steaming bowls.

You wordlessly follow him, snuggling into him on the couch after snatching your bowl. You choose to dig in and ignore the groan from beside you when you turn on your favourite reality tv show- the one that Katsuki claims to hate.

You think this might just be your favourite date ever.

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avelera · 26 days ago

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(Meta) The Tragedy of Working for "The Family Business" in Arcane

I recently wrote some meta about how one contributor to Jayce's suicide attempt in Arcane 1.02 was the realization that his only obvious path forward in life after his humiliating trial and expulsion from the Academy was to go into the family business of the Talis hammer factory, and how he chose death over that because such a life would represent a spiritual death of the soul for him, a fate literally worse than death.

That got me thinking about how we have several characters in Arcane who are fighting against working for "the family business" that is, living up to the expectations and desires of their parents. My immediate temptation is to say that Arcane takes the pretty firm stance that it's better to pursue your own dreams but then I stopped myself because no, it's much more nuanced than that.

I'm exploring this as someone whose family also has a family business that I didn't join, who had dreams of artistic pursuits that my family actively discouraged, so this is a very personal topic for me that I feel I can lend some insight to.

Whether or not it's the right thing to "join the family business" and live up to the expectations of the older generation is an active and complex dialogue that goes on within Arcane.

So let's go through the characters and how they reflect on this theme:

Jayce Talis: Just because he's top of mind for me. I believe it's heavily implied that Jayce's dream was to pursue magic and Hextech. Losing access to Hextech and having no choice but to join the family business was a fate worse than death for him, he actively chose suicide instead. And I believe we have hints that Ximena and his late father wanted that for him (see the childhood picture of Jayce and his father, with Jayce proudly holding up the hammer is father almost certainly helped him forge).

But we have some nuance to the discussion of "Was it the right thing?" for him to go into Hextech instead, since it's basically a curse that brought ruin and near-destruction to the world. That said, when Hextech succeeded, all the voices that wanted Jayce to join the family business were silenced and all supported Hextech enthusiastically, including his mother. So while their encouragement of him joining the family business instead of working on his dream might have averted many tragedies, it's not why anyone except Heimerdinger wanted him to do it.

Caitlyn Kiramman: This isn't subtext, this is text. Caitlyn wanted to be a detective, her mother wanted her to be a politician and is clearly uncomfortable even as far back as the shooting competition that Caitlyn wins that her daughter is so adept at shooting instead of diplomacy.

Caitlyn's dictator arc is even directly tied to the creators as a phase of her trying to live up to what her mother would have wanted (including dating nice "girl next door" Maddie instead of undercity dweller and ex-con Vi that both her parents seemed to actively dislike). Caitlyn while mourning her mother keenly feels all the disagreements they once had over her choices in life, and falls to her lowest point spiritually, morally, emotionally, etc. when trying to live up to her image of what her mother wanted for her.

Vi coming back into her life literally gives her the courage to break away from this horrible place where she's found herself, becoming this person she doesn't want to be. Because it's all well and good to say everyone should forge their own path, but it's almost impossible to do without someone who also believes in you and the version of you that you want to be.

Mel Medarda: Insofar as Mel is a tragic tale, which I believe she is, her tragedy is as a child of privilege who never breaks away to pursue her own dreams. I think the tragedies of privilege often, understandably, get overlooked in discussions of fiction but Mel plays out that tragedy writ large. And I don't just mean this from the perspective of the "poor little rich girl" I mean being from privilege can become its own cage. It can dampen ambition, lock one into self-doubt that you can make it on your own without the benefits that privilege gave, it can lead to incredible self-doubt and constant self-measuring against the previous generation because of what they left for you to inherit and to live up to.

Mel is not happy when she returns to Noxus as the new Head of House Medarda. She got everything she wanted in S1, to be recognized by her family and to ascend as a Medarda after her banishment, and nothing she needed. What could Mel have accomplished if she wasn't trying to be a Medarda, or now with or without the magic her mother literally instilled in her veins as a birthright? She may never know. Mel could have been an artist, a spy, an inventor, a diplomat, she showed incredibly aptitude at all these skills but in the end, she just works for the family business.

But Mel doesn't have anyone, not Jayce, not Elora, not her family, to believe in her vision for herself at the end. Instead, she has become the family business.

Jinx: Jinx in S1 is constantly hemmed in and restricted by Silco's desire for her to take over the family business, to help build his weapons, to help him create Zaun. Stupid joke that it is, Sevika confronts her with the fact that she could assume the family business of raising Zaun from the ashes in S2, exactly as Silco wanted. It's one of the more complex instances of "Would it be better if she did, or if she didn't?"

I think the show comes down on, no, it's better for Jinx to go off an live her own life. Sevika, for whom this isn't the family business, is the better steward of Zaun's future going forward. She did the work. She's done the thinking. She's stood by the cause through thick and thin. She believes in it. It's Sevika who should be on the Council.

It's also interesting to contrast Jinx with alternate universe Powder, who also feels trapped by family expectations. Who is constantly reminded she could be doing more. Ironically, that Powder seems to want to join the family business and live behind the bar, but it is clear that it's stifling her true potential, and her loving fathers Vander and Silco in a happier world try to point that out to her.

But it takes Ekko from the main universe believing in her for her to begin to forge her own path.

Viktor: Viktor has no family business to live up to. At most, we have a bit of word of god meta that his parents helped smuggle him into the Academy when they recognize his potential. We have a little bit of Singed/Dr. Revek as a father figure which could represent a family business and if so, it's a tragedy for Viktor when he gives in and decides to "join the family business" and go along with Singed's view of the world.

That said, Viktor's lack of connections, patronage, or family is what helps him inspire Jayce and save his life. Viktor's lack of family business to join is why he had to forge his own path. He points this out to Jayce, who is clearly inspired while at his lowest point. Jayce realizes as a result of this conversation that others have done more than him with less, that his life isn't over because he lost his privileges. That all he really needs is himself or, rather, himself and just one person who believes in him. It's no understatement to say that from that point on, Jayce has given this new life, this like Viktor gave back to him, to Viktor and their shared dream. Viktor is all the family he needs now.

And, likewise, Jayce is the vote of confidence that Viktor needs to break free of his own tragic spiral, one encouraged and egged on by Singed and his expectations. It takes Jayce believing in the better version of Viktor to pull him back to become the person he wanted to be again, in a time paradox loop that is still making me insane.

TL;DR So really, if I must say that Arcane has a thesis, it's that you're better of pursuing your own path but it's difficult, nearly impossible to do, without at least one other person who believes in you.

#arcane #arcane meta #caitlyn kiramman #caitvi #jayce talis #jayvik #viktor arcane #jinx arcane #timebomb #mel medarda #sevika arcane

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sluglore · 3 months ago

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Some Thoughts on Karma, the Natural Journey of Ascension, and Why the Ancients/Benefactors were Kind of Wrong

I'd like to address the community-wide misconception that you can only gain karma through "shedding your urges" when both in game and within the text of the game, we see this isn't true! the whole "shedding urges in order to ascend" stuff was only really a thing before the void fluid revolution, as Moon states in the bright red farm arrays pearl. The discovery of void fluid entirely trivialized needing to completely shed your urges by providing a much more natural method of ascension, and we see this play out within Rain World's story and gameplay.

In-game, we gain karma by directly engaging with our urges, whether it be sustaining our hunger, holding treasured items close or just survival in itself. From the beginning we are deeply ensnared within the struggles of living, "caught in the net" as the ancients/benefactors say. However, over the course of our gameplay, (I'm using survivor as a baseline, since their campaign illustrates the core of this) as we learn and grow and become more knowledged, living becomes easier, the struggle is not as harsh as it was before, and surely but slowly we die less and less as time goes on.

Simultaneously, this is reflected in our karma, as by dying less, we now hold higher karma more frequently. This coincides with the natural gameplay loop of rain world; the more we explore and learn new things, the more we grow and learn about the world and our place within it, we tread further and further away from the struggles of life, and become closer to enlightenment.

Ascension is the natural culmination of this journey of enlightenment, the next step on the path beyond. It's not inherently the right or wrong choice to make, its a step into the unknown, in search of something greater, of answers to our own existence, true spiritual self-fulfillment. This is how the ancients/benefactors saw it, but you could say they still got parts of it pretty wrong...

This is treading more into personal headcanon territory now, so bear with me, but I believe the issue lies within the great problem that the ancients built the iterators to solve. They wanted to find a means of evicting all life, material, the entire world from the cycles entirely, eliminating the personal struggle tied to ascension, taking away the choice and the journey that are so unbelievably crucial to it. This is also why I personally believe that a solution to the great problem doesn't or can't exist, as it would go against the fabric of their universe, from which the cycles are built upon. (LTTM describes the group behind this ideology as "triangulators"; they believed a solution was dangerous and had to be inferred rather than solved)

Ironically, in their desire to become effortless, by creating the iterators to make living easier, and to detach themselves from the struggles of the cycles, (just as we do within our own journey to ascension as the slugcat) this could also only be achieved through massive effort, so they even weren't truly "effortless" in the end, as nothing can be. Of course though, the few echoes in-game demonstrate that same ideology slipping through. Those ancients/benefactors became echoes because they hadn't experienced the personal journey paramount to ascension, or maybe they just didn't want to leave, but regardless, they weren't able to let go of their place in the universe and move on, and thus, they stayed behind.

TLDR: The ancients/benefactors were wrong about ascension because as a society they didn't fully recognize how important personal struggle, journey, and choice is for ascension, and sought to remove that struggle entirely.

#this is an older post of mine from twitter that i wanted to touch up and share here #im benefactor pilled i promise #in my original post i used ancient as an umbrella term just for the sake of people understanding #i kinda threw both terms in instead this time so well see how that goes #rain world #rainworld #rain world lore #rw lore #my lore #analysis #rain world analysis #thematic dissection

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mingi-s-dimples · 10 days ago

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His, only his - Yunho

KINKTOBER DAY 28, REQ. BY @musiclovingfairy

~"Yunho x fem reader. Possessiveness, almost animalistic? Like he comes from work in the evening and the reader doesn't feel well and they cuddle. Kind of a dom/sub in a way. Can you write it so that he is super possessive and protective and she gets into a deep sub space like a trance almost, but not degradation, more praise. It's smut but nothing crazy, like he makes her feel really small and protected and wants to make her his. With feelings. You know what i mean? 😅"

pairing: yunho x fem!reader

genre: 18+, soft filth

summary: Yunho's praises overwhelm you in a... rather exciting manner, for him, especially.

wc: 5.3k

warnings: love, multiple orgasms, yunho is really possessive but kind in a way, he really loves reader but rather in an aggressive possessive way, mentions of insecurities (body, academic insecurities), pussy eating, cum eating slightly, marking, unprotected (wrap up irl!), dacryphilia, definitely praise kink (reader), completely consensual, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: I am BACK everyone 🧍‍♀️ it took me fucking ages to find even 10 minutes to write these days but guess what!? SCHOOL IS OVER UNT 8TH JANUARY !!! everyone shout yupi 😭💀 I can't wait to finish every single project I've had in mind until now 🤗 Sweetheart I hope the fic is to your liking, ilysm my bestie 🙈💖 (i also had some problems witj tumblr, it deleted two of my drafts.. had to rewrite them from scratch 💀)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The clock on the wall ticked its incessant rhythm, marking the minutes slipping away. You sat at your desk, staring at your laptop screen, your eyes blurring over the rows of text on a document that you’d been working on for hours. The pile of assignments beside you seemed to mock you with its weight, reminding you of the deadlines you could barely keep up with. Your phone buzzed on the desk, the screen lighting up with a flurry of messages from the group chat you shared with your friends.

*“We’re heading out to the new café tonight! Come with us, Y/N! 💕”*

You bit your lip, hesitation clawing at your resolve. Your heart ached to join them, to feel like a part of their carefree world even for just a few hours, but the reality of your workload was a chain wrapped tightly around your chest. That chain grew heavier with every comparison you made—between yourself and them, their radiant smiles, perfect bodies, and seemingly endless energy to balance everything in their lives.

Your gaze drifted to the mirror hanging on the opposite wall, the image reflecting back felt like an enemy tonight. The way your body curved felt wrong. Your face looked dull compared to their glowing complexions, and no matter how much effort you put in, it never seemed to be enough.

"It’s just a moment," you whispered to yourself. "It’ll pass."

But the intrusive thoughts came unbidden, cruel whispers of insecurity growing louder as the night stretched on. You tried to focus, to drown yourself in your work, but it wasn’t long before the tears began to pool in your eyes, blurring the screen. You scrubbed at your cheeks with the back of your hand, but it was no use. The dam had broken.

You didn’t hear the sound of the door opening, nor the soft, purposeful steps approaching behind you.

"Baby," came a deep, familiar voice, warm and laced with concern.

Your breath hitched, your head snapping up in surprise to see Yunho standing in the doorway. His tall frame was bathed in the warm light spilling from the hallway, his broad shoulders tense as he took in the scene before him—your tear-streaked face, the cluttered desk, the weariness etched into every inch of your body.

"Yunho," you croaked, quickly wiping at your face to hide the evidence of your crying.

But he wasn’t having it. In an instant, he was beside you, kneeling down so that his face was level with yours. His hands cupped your cheeks, his touch both firm and tender as he tilted your face up to meet his gaze. His dark eyes were sharp, almost dangerous in their intensity, as they scanned your face.

"Who did this to you?" he demanded, his voice low and brimming with possessiveness.

Your lips parted, confusion mingling with the lingering sadness in your chest. "No one—"

"Don’t lie to me," he cut you off, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. His jaw was clenched, the protective edge in his voice only growing stronger. "I don’t care if it’s someone at school, your so-called friends, or even a stranger. Tell me what happened."

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain that this storm inside you wasn’t caused by anyone else—it was your own mind tearing you apart. But Yunho wasn’t the type to let things slide, especially when it came to you. He leaned in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours as he whispered, "Talk to me, baby. You don’t get to keep this from me."

His words cracked the fragile wall you’d built around your emotions, and suddenly, it all came tumbling out. You told him about the mounting stress of school, the endless comparison to your friends, and the insecurities that had been festering in your mind for weeks. By the time you finished, your voice was trembling, and fresh tears threatened to spill down your cheeks.

Yunho listened in silence, his expression unreadable, but the fierce protectiveness in his eyes never wavered. When you finally stopped speaking, he let out a slow, measured breath.

"You’re wrong," he said, his voice steady but tinged with a possessive edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

You blinked, startled by the certainty in his tone. "What?"

"Every single word you just said about yourself—it’s wrong," he growled, his hands tightening their grip on your face. "Do you have any idea how perfect you are? How much I crave every inch of you, every second of the day?"

Your breath hitched at the raw intensity in his voice. Yunho’s gaze darkened, his eyes flicking down to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

"Those so-called friends of yours?" he continued, his tone turning almost predatory. "They don’t hold a candle to you. They might be pretty, sure, but they’ll never have what you do. They’ll never have my attention, my love, my obsession."

Your cheeks burned at his words, your heart racing as his praise wrapped around you like a warm embrace. "Yunho…"

"No, baby, listen to me," he cut you off, his hands sliding down to your shoulders as he pulled you closer. "You’re the most beautiful, maddening, addictive thing in my life. And if I have to spend every day reminding you of that, I will."

Your mind was spinning, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words and the way his touch ignited a fire under your skin. Yunho’s hands moved again, one sliding down to your waist while the other cupped the back of your neck, pulling you flush against him.

"Do you understand me?" he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat.

"Good," he said, his tone softening just enough to make your heart ache. He leaned back just enough to look into your eyes again, his thumb tracing a slow, deliberate path along your jawline. "Because I’m not going to let you talk about yourself like that ever again. You’re mine, Y/N. And I’ll be damned if I let you forget how much you mean to me."

A shiver ran down your spine at the possessiveness in his voice, heat pooling low in your stomach as his words sank in. Yunho’s gaze flickered to your lips again, and this time, he didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as much a claim as it was an expression of love.

The kiss started slow, almost tender, but it quickly deepened as Yunho’s hand tightened its grip on your waist, pulling you even closer. His tongue teased the seam of your lips, and you parted them without a second thought, allowing him to take control.

A soft whimper escaped your throat, and Yunho groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your lips. His possessive nature shone through in every movement, the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hand slid down to grip your thigh, anchoring you to him.

"Yunho," you gasped when he finally pulled away, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.

"You feel that, baby?" he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. He looked down at his cock straining against his pants, rubbing against your thigh as he leaned down on you. "That’s how much I want you. Every second, every minute of the day. And it’s all for you—only you."

Your cheeks burned, your body trembling as his words sent a rush of heat coursing through you. Yunho’s lips brushed against yours again, softer this time, but no less possessive.

"I’ll always remind you," he whispered, his voice like a promise. "You’re mine, Y/N. Never forget that."

Yunho didn’t give you a moment to retreat into your thoughts again. His hand moved to cup the back of your neck, his thumb tracing soothing circles as he looked at you with a gaze that felt like it could pierce your soul. The intensity of his eyes left you rooted to the spot, your breath hitching as he tilted his head, studying you like you were a puzzle he needed to solve.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice low, reverent, and possessive. "So beautiful, even when you’re crying. Even when you’re doubting yourself. Do you know how lucky I am to have you?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Heat bloomed in your cheeks as his hand slid from your neck to your jaw, tilting your face up just slightly so you couldn’t avoid his gaze.

"No, don’t look away," he commanded softly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You’re going to listen to me, baby. Because every word I’m about to say is the truth, and I won’t let you brush it off like it doesn’t matter."

His other hand found your waist, his fingers splaying possessively against your side. You shivered at the contact, acutely aware of the heat radiating from his body, the strength of his grip as if he was anchoring you in place.

"You’re everything to me, Y/N," he said, his voice dropping lower, almost a growl. "Every curve, every soft line of your body—it's mine to adore, mine to protect. You’re perfect, baby. And it kills me that you can’t see it."

The praise was overwhelming, each word sinking into your skin and leaving a burning trail in its wake. You felt flustered, your heart pounding in your chest as Yunho’s thumb brushed over your lower lip. His touch was gentle, but the intensity behind it left you breathless.

"Do you feel this?" he asked, his thumb lingering on your lip before tracing a slow path down to your jawline. "The way your skin reacts to me? It’s like your body knows, even when your mind doesn’t. You’re made for me, baby. Every inch of you."

"Yunho…" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you felt your body responding to his words. A warm, tingling sensation spread through you, pooling low in your stomach, and you shifted slightly in your seat, unable to ignore the way his possessive tone sent your mind spinning.

But Yunho noticed everything. He always did. His eyes darkened as his gaze flickered down to where your thighs pressed together, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Ah," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement and something darker. "There it is."

You froze, your eyes widening in embarrassment as you realized what he meant. But before you could stammer out a response, Yunho leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Don’t be shy, baby. That’s my effect on you, isn’t it?"

The heat in your cheeks spread down your neck, and you bit your lip, unable to meet his gaze. Yunho chuckled softly, the sound low and rich as his hand slid down to rest on your thigh.

"You’re so perfect," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Even when you’re flustered, even when you’re doubting yourself, your body tells me the truth. It tells me how much you need me. How much you’re mine."

Your breath hitched as his hand moved slightly, his fingers brushing against the hem of your shirt. He took his time, his touch slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second.

"Can I show you?" he murmured, his lips ghosting over your jawline as he spoke. "Can I show you how beautiful you are?"

You nodded, your voice caught in your throat as Yunho’s hand slipped beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist. His touch was both gentle and possessive, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that left you trembling.

His other hand found the hem of your shirt, and he tugged it upward slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop him. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You were too caught up in the way his words made you feel, the way his touch ignited a fire beneath your skin.

As the shirt slipped over your head, Yunho’s eyes roamed over your body, his gaze heated and possessive. He let out a soft, almost animalistic growl, his hands finding your waist again as he pulled you closer.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "So damn perfect."

His hands slid up to your arms, his thumbs brushing over your skin as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you. His lips found yours again, capturing them in a kiss that was both tender and consuming, leaving you dizzy and clinging to him for support.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a shaky breath. "Do you see it now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you see how much I need you? How much I love every part of you?"

You nodded, your voice failing you as tears welled up in your eyes again—not from sadness, but from the overwhelming feeling of being so completely seen, so completely loved.

Yunho smiled softly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear as he whispered, "Good. Because I’m not going anywhere, baby. You’re stuck with me. And I’ll remind you of this every single day, for as long as it takes."

And in that moment, the storm of insecurities that had been raging in your mind was nothing but a distant memory, drowned out by the strength of Yunho’s love and the possessive way he held you, as if letting you go was simply not an option.

Yunho’s silence was almost deafening, his dark, heavy gaze taking in every inch of your exposed body. The air between you was thick with tension, and you could feel the heat radiating from him as he stood there, rooted in place, his chest rising and falling with barely contained restraint.

His thumb brushed over your skin, but there was nothing gentle about his touch. It was firm, claiming, as though he was reminding you that you belonged to him and no one else. The possessiveness in his eyes sent a shiver through you, and you felt your breath hitch when his gaze dropped, lingering on the last piece of fabric still separating you from him.

Yunho’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as he looked back up at you, his jaw tight with restraint. "May I?" he asked, nodding toward your panties.

You swallowed hard, your body trembling as you nodded, barely able to get the word out. "Yes."

That was all he needed. His hands moved quickly, gripping the waistband and pulling it down with enough force to leave no room for hesitation. The fabric slid down your legs in one swift motion, the roughness of his movements leaving you breathless. He tossed the garment aside carelessly, his focus entirely on you as his hands found your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you gasp.

"Mine," he muttered, his voice thick with a possessiveness that sent heat pooling low in your stomach. "Every inch of you is mine."

His hands slid up your legs, his touch both commanding and reverent as he pulled you closer. There was no space left between you, no room for doubt as Yunho’s eyes locked onto yours. The hunger in his gaze was undeniable, but it was tempered by something deeper—something that made your heart race and your body ache with the need to be closer to him.

"You don’t get to hide from me," he said, his voice low and rough as his hands gripped your hips. "Not when you look like this. Not when you’re mine."

You felt your face heat under his intense gaze, your body trembling as Yunho’s fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns against your skin. His lips found your neck, and you gasped as he bit down gently, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin before he soothed it with his tongue.

"Perfect," he muttered against your neck, his voice thick with need. "And all mine."

His hands slid up to cup your face, tilting your head up so you had no choice but to meet his eyes. The intensity in his gaze left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as Yunho’s lips curved into a possessive smirk.

"You’ll let me show you, won’t you?" he murmured, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. "Let me remind you who you belong to."

Before you could respond, his mouth was on yours, the kiss deep and consuming as his hands roamed over your body with a kind of controlled urgency. Every touch, every kiss, every movement was a claim, a reminder that you were his and no one else’s.

And in that moment, with Yunho’s possessive gaze and commanding touch leaving you breathless, every doubt, every insecurity, every negative thought faded away, replaced by the undeniable truth that you were his—and he wouldn’t let you forget it.

Yunho didn’t waste a second. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, then down the delicate column of your neck. His kisses were possessive, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to send jolts of heat coursing through your body. He wasn’t gentle—he didn’t need to be. Every press of his lips, every bite and kiss, was a declaration: you were his, and he wanted the world to know.

"You look so good like this," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and filled with need. "Marked by me. Remember this, baby. Every time you see these marks, you’ll remember who you belong to."

He worked his way down, his mouth leaving a heated trail along your collarbone, down to the curve of your breasts. His hands slid up your sides, firm and commanding, holding you in place as if he couldn’t bear the thought of you slipping away. You felt his breath against your skin as he kissed and nipped, his tongue soothing the small marks he left in his wake.

Your body trembled beneath him, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as his lips continued their journey. When he finally pulled back to look at you, his gaze was heavy, filled with hunger and adoration. He stood, towering over you as his hands went to the waistband of his pants.

Yunho’s movements were swift but purposeful as he undid his belt, the sound of the leather sliding through the loops sending a fresh wave of anticipation through you. His pants hit the floor, and your eyes darted to the straining bulge in his briefs. The sight made your breath hitch, your thighs pressing together involuntarily as a tingling sensation spread through you.

He noticed instantly. A low, satisfied chuckle escaped his lips as he stepped out of his pants and kicked them aside. "Feeling shy now, baby?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement and something darker. "After all the ways you’ve let me touch you, you’re still so innocent. God, I love it."

Your cheeks burned, and you averted your gaze, but Yunho wasn’t having it. He crouched in front of you, his hands gripping your knees as he gently but firmly guided your legs apart. "Don’t hide from me," he said, his voice softening just slightly. "I want to see all of you."

You swallowed hard, your body trembling as Yunho stood again, his fingers hooking into the waistband of his briefs. He tugged them down, freeing his cock, and you couldn’t help but gasp softly at the sight of him. His cock stood hard and thick, the sheer size of it making your pulse race.

Yunho smirked at your reaction, his hand wrapping around his length for a moment as he took you in. "You see what you do to me, baby?" he said, his voice low and full of heat. "This is all for you. Only for you."

He moved closer, his hands sliding up your thighs as he leaned over you. The heat of his body was overwhelming, his presence so commanding that you felt yourself melting beneath him. As he positioned himself between your legs, his cock brushing against your inner thigh, you couldn’t help but let out a soft, trembling sigh.

"Relax for me," Yunho murmured, his voice gentle but firm. One of his hands slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as his gaze locked onto yours. "I’ve got you, baby. Just let me take care of you."

Your heart pounded in your chest as Yunho leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both possessive and tender. His other hand moved to guide himself, lining up with you as his forehead rested against yours.

Just as you braced yourself for him, Yunho suddenly paused, pulling back slightly. His forehead still rested against yours, and his breathing was heavy, ragged. He stared into your eyes for a moment, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a devilish smirk.

"Not yet," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "I’m not done with you, baby. Not even close."

You blinked in confusion, your body already trembling with anticipation. But Yunho wasn’t in a rush. He shifted his weight, his large hands sliding from your waist to grip your hips, holding you steady as he leaned down.

"Lie back for me," he instructed, his voice rough but gentle. His hands guided you until you were fully reclined on the bed where you were initially sitting on, his body following yours as he pressed soft, teasing kisses down your chest, past your stomach, and toward your hips.

He stopped there, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just above your lower belly.. The warmth of his breath sent shivers through your body, and you couldn’t stop the way your thighs pressed together slightly. Yunho’s hands were there immediately, his grip firm as he gently pushed your legs apart again.

"Don’t hide from me," he said, his voice almost a growl. "You don’t get to do that. Not when you look like this. Not when you’re mine."

Starting at your knees, Yunho began trailing kisses along your skin, moving painfully slowly up the length of your legs. His lips were soft but deliberate, each kiss leaving behind a tingling heat that made your body ache for more. When he reached your inner thigh, he paused, his mouth hovering just above the sensitive skin.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice filled with a possessive hunger. His lips brushed against your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the delicate flesh before he pressed a firmer kiss there. "Already trembling for me. So soft, so perfect."

You whimpered softly, your hips shifting slightly as the ache between your legs grew unbearable. Yunho noticed—he always noticed. His smirk deepened, and the sound of his low chuckle made your heart race.

"Do you have any idea how much I need you right now?" he muttered, his voice rough and thick with want. "How hard it is to take my time when you look like this?"

His kisses moved closer and closer to your cunt, his breath warm against your bare skin. Your thighs trembled under his touch, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. Yunho groaned softly as his lips brushed the sensitive flesh at the very top of your thigh, his hands gripping your hips tighter as if to keep himself steady.

"Stay still for me, baby," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "Let me take my time with you."

His lips finally found your cunt, dripping wet on the linen, and the sudden contact made you gasp. Yunho groaned in response, his hands tightening their hold on you as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your sensitive skin.

"God, you taste so good," he muttered against you, his voice filled with raw hunger. "So sweet. So perfect. All mine."

Yunho didn’t hold back. His lips and tongue worked against you with deliberate skill, dragging soft cries and whines from your lips as his hands gripped your thighs tightly. His fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly in place as if he couldn’t bear the thought of you moving away.

The heat of his mouth and the intensity of his focus had your body trembling uncontrollably. Each stroke of his tongue sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, and the firm pressure of his grip grounded you in the overwhelming sensations.

"Yunho," you cried out, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair. He groaned against you at the sound of his name on your lips, his grip on your thighs tightening as he redoubled his efforts.

"You’re so responsive," he murmured between kisses, his voice low and rough. "So perfect for me."

Your back arched off the bed, your thighs trembling as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. His tongue circled and teased, his movements relentless as he drew you closer and closer to the edge. The sounds that spilled from your lips were uncontrollable—moans, gasps, and whimpers that only seemed to spur him on.

"That’s it, baby," he muttered, his voice vibrating against your sensitive skin. "Let go for me. I want to feel you fall apart."

And fall apart you did. With a loud cry, your body tensed and then shattered, waves of pleasure washing over you in a blinding rush. Yunho didn’t stop, his tongue and lips coaxing you through the intensity of your orgasm until you were left gasping and trembling beneath him.

As you came down from your high, Yunho pulled back, his lips and chin glistening as he looked up at you. His expression was one of pure satisfaction, his eyes dark and possessive as he took in the sight of you—flushed, panting, and completely undone.

"You’re incredible," he said, his voice soft but filled with raw emotion. He reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your face during the intensity of the moment. "So beautiful when you come for me. So perfect."

You barely had time to catch your breath before Yunho shifted again, his body aligning with yours as he climbed back over you. His cock pressed against your entrance, the sheer heat and size of it making your breath hitch.

"Ready for me, baby?" he asked softly, his forehead resting against yours. His hands slid to your waist, holding you steady as he lined himself up.

You nodded, your hands resting on his shoulders as you gazed up at him. The love and intensity in his eyes were overwhelming, and you couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips despite your trembling body.

With a low groan, Yunho began to push in, taking his time as he filled you inch by inch. The stretch was slow and deliberate, and he paused often to let you adjust, his forehead pressed against yours as he watched your every reaction.

"You feel so good," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion and restraint. "So perfect for me, baby. You were made for me."

His movements were unhurried, each thrust, a deliberate act of love and devotion. Yunho’s hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheeks as he pressed soft kisses to your lips, your jaw, and your forehead.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice rough with sincerity. "Every part of you. I need you to know that."

As he moved within you, his touch and his words combined into something overwhelming, leaving you breathless and completely consumed by him. There was no rush, no urgency—only the deep, unwavering connection between the two of you as Yunho made love to you with a tenderness that left no room for doubt.

Yunho moved with a rhythm that was slow and deliberate, each thrust a testament to how deeply he cherished you. His hands stayed on your body, one resting on your hip to anchor you to him and the other brushing up to cup your face. His eyes never left yours, dark and filled with emotion that left you trembling beneath him.

"You feel so good," he murmured, his voice rough with restraint, as if he was holding himself back for your sake. "You take me so perfectly, baby. Always so perfect for me."

You whimpered softly at his words, your body arching into his touch. Every inch of you was tuned to him, the way he filled you so completely, the way his lips found yours between breaths, the way his fingers caressed and gripped your skin. It was overwhelming, but it was also everything you needed—everything you didn’t know you craved.

His thrusts deepened, each one slow but powerful, sending jolts of pleasure through you. The sound of your soft cries filled the room, mingling with Yunho’s low groans. He pressed his forehead to yours, his breath warm and ragged against your lips.

"I love you," he said again, his voice rough and filled with conviction. "I love every part of you, baby. Your body, your mind, your heart—all of it belongs to me."

You couldn’t form words, your body too overwhelmed by the slow, unrelenting waves of pleasure he was pulling from you. Instead, you cupped his face, your fingers brushing through his hair as you pulled him down into a kiss. It was messy, desperate, filled with every ounce of love and need you felt for him.

Yunho groaned against your lips, his hips pressing deeper, and the intensity of the moment made your head spin. He moved as if there was no one else in the world but you, as if nothing else mattered but the way your body responded to his.

"You’re mine," he whispered against your lips, his voice low and possessive. His hand slid up to intertwine with yours, pinning it above your head as his movements grew more deliberate. "Every single part of you is mine, baby. Don’t you ever forget that."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, not from sadness but from the overwhelming emotion of it all. Yunho noticed immediately, his lips brushing against your cheek as his thrusts slowed slightly.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice gentle despite the tension in his body. "Is it too much?"

You shook your head, your breath hitching as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I love you," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I love you so much, Yunho."

He smiled at your words, his forehead pressing to yours as his hips moved again, deeper and more purposeful as you locked him in. The pleasure built steadily, a slow burn that left you breathless and clinging to him as he guided you toward the edge.

"Let go for me, baby," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. "I want to feel you come for me. Let me take you there."

His words, his touch, the way he thrusted in you—it was too much. Your body tensed, the pleasure reaching its peak as you cried out his name, your orgssm crashing over you in waves. Yunho followed shortly after, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as he buried himself fully, his body shuddering against yours as he also came, filling you up.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. All you could hear was the sound of your ragged breaths mingling with his, your body still trembling as he held you close. Yunho pressed soft kisses to your face—your cheeks, your forehead, your lips—his hands stroking your skin soothingly.

"I love you," he whispered again, his voice soft and full of warmth. "Always."

You smiled softly, your body relaxing beneath his as you whispered back, "I love you too."

He pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as the two of you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s warmth and love. The world outside didn’t matter—all that mattered was the way you fit perfectly in his arms, completely his.

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