#and more of a personal preference i tend to like characters who seem more fucked up at first so i think if we’d met sam before firefly

[b1adie]

gen question how would u feel if firefly was a guy but everything else stayed the same writing wise like if firefly was “mandatory boyfriend” as you put it

i have thought about this dont worry

i feel like i might be even more irked cuz i play stelle and i’m lesbo, so like honestly mandatory girlfriend for f!protag is pretty cool. if they made her be obsessed w some guy i’d be ripping my hair out. but at least i would get some enjoyment watching men on reddit complain that they’re being Forced to be Gay.

the thing with firefly is if she were like, 50% less entwined with trailblazer, i would probably love her? i’ve liked what i’ve seen of her in everything that wasn’t just another fireblazer scene. and ofc i’m always annoyed when games give you multiple options but all lead to the same thing. even worse now that theyre just TELLING us that the first time we felt fear was when we saw sleepie stab her. like. not when we got impaled by cocolia? nothing like that? ok..

and also if she were a guy i would not be trying NEARLY as hard to like her LMFAO as soon as i got annoyed i would have been like Can we kill this fucking loser??

like. i do like her and i do like fireblazer!!! but i would really really appreciate if i could choose to like her and fireblazer, not just be told that i love her etc… like okay. i get it. let me breathe

[missglaskin]

Yandere S.T.A.R.S Team (Resident Evil) platonic headcanons

Note- I am back (It's been years), this has been in my drafts so I said fuck it/this is so messy and the timeline/canon may not be accurate but enjoy! This is mainly platonic, but w/some characters it could be interpreted romantically

Characters; Albert Wesker, Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, Rebecca Chambers, Barry Burton, Joseph Forest, Brad Vickers, Forest Speyer, Richard Aiken, Enrico Marini, Kenneth Sullivan, Edward Dewey

The first person you perhaps meet is Albert; he is the leader of the S.T.A.R.S Team. Not only do all the recruiters get approved by him, but he also overlooks all your tests. He greets you like any other, but gradually something takes a hold of him. He's in denial at first, even seeming harsh. You may initially believe he didn't like you; oblivious to the countless files and cameras hidden everywhere.

Having the rest of the team be just as enamored was not on the table. You are immediately welcomed by the team and Rebecca is the first to befriend you since you two are the youngest of the team. Like how Richard was tasked with watching over Rebecca, he’s tasked with the same responsibility over you (even if Wesker preferred to do it himself).

Chris can't help but grow quickly fond of you. He positions himself in the role of your protector; feeling the utmost responsibility for your happiness and safety. So if you have any problems - whether it's with Chief Irons or getting in trouble for say, breaking a rule; trust he'll be quick to intervene and 'save' the day.

You're all Chris ever talks about to Claire and before long, the two of you cross paths. Claire, like her brother assumes herself in the role of being your friend right away. She occasionally pays you visits and you can be sure that you will receive calls from times when she's unable to visit. Claire expects Chris to keep her informed of you at all times.

Barry, Enrico, and Kenneth all take fatherly roles; they look at you and already placed adopted papers on the table ready for you to sign. It makes it all the harder for Wesker to have any absolute control as they all put their foot down.

Barry adores you and it’s not taken lightly when it’s said he treats you as his child, probably cause he views you as actually one of his own. He invites you to a family dinner, introducing you to his family who all naturally take a liking to you. Barry insists on his house always being open if you need a place to stay or run into trouble. 

Since Barry sees you as his own, there is a never-end to his dad jokes. Even when you comment on how terrible it is, he likes seeing the smile on your face. Trust you'll be invited to every birthday, barbecue, or any family Burton event.

Enrico while he adopted a fatherly role, he was a bit reluctant to get so attached to you. He’s the few in the team who's fully aware and doesn't hesitate to call out the others when he thinks they are going too far. He worries a lot about your safety, and most times it's Enrico who comes out on top of arguments on who gets to drive you home. 

Kenneth as the oldest of the team, feels the most responsible for you. He is aware just like Enrico and doesn't wish for you to be scared of him or the team. He wants you to come to him whenever you need anything, even for small tasks such as finding a specific file. Like Enrico, Kenneth has no problem telling the others to back off if you need space.

More trouble comes along when Forest and Joseph come along. They develop their tendencies the quickest and tend to be the most clingy out of the team. They (along with Chris) become your partners in crime.

Joseph is someone you can always count on to make you smile even in the most serious of situations; he doesn’t care when others lecture him for it. You're not safe from his teasing. Granted you're not the target of his pranks but he likes to poke fun at you from time to time. It's why no alarms are ringing in your head when he says something questionable, assuming he’s just being Joseph.

You're not safe from Forest's playful teasings either. He can be a little annoying, poking your cheek or trying to tickle you when wanting your attention. Like Joseph, he's very affectionate, putting his arm around your shoulder and resting his head on your lap if you allow it. The others lecture him for doing it so publicly but Joseph knows it's jealousy talking more than anything.

As said, a squad of its own is formed; Chris, Joseph, Forest, and you. While they tend to be jealous, the three are okay with sharing when it comes to each other. Forest and Chris enjoy competing in shoot training and showing off who can do it better, inviting you to place bets. They're happy to show you all the gun's tricks and let you choose your weapon's signature.

Joseph, being a mechanic, can't always spend as much time with you. But he'll eagerly drag you into teaching you the ropes, whisking you away from the other two. He beams with pride when you grasp something from his impromptu lessons. Even if he's not exactly teaching you anything, he's happy to chat about anything as he works. 

Jill becomes someone you’re close to, someone whom Chris and Barry trust to leave you alone with. She’s not afraid to whisk you away from the others when she wants to and won’t hesitate to call out anyone selfishly taking your time (Uhm Joseph). 

Most of all, Jill loves having girl time with you. She's there for any fashion advice, gladly taking you shopping to revamp your wardrobe. If you're unsure how to do your makeup, she's eager to help, though Jill never wants to teach you so you can keep coming to her.

Jill is also willing to use any excuse to have you stay over at her place anytime even suggesting sharing an apartment to ‘save money”. And if you think Wesker’s the only one with a bunch of files, Jill has a hidden drawer filled with everything she has on you. 

Brad becomes incredibly attached but is a bit shy about approaching you. He'll do little things to make your day better, like bringing your favorite coffee (watching you do it too many times) or organizing your desk just the way you like it.

Brad tries to agree with everything you do, supporting any ideas you bring forth in, team meetings and hesitates to snitch on you, always trying to talk to you first to prevent trouble (aka punishments). Similar to Kenneth, he's aware of his tendencies and doesn't want you to fear him.

Richard is the softest guy on the team as said, was tasked with watching over you and quickly grew fond of you, He has made it well known that if you ever need help you can seek him out even when you get in trouble, he’ll gladly keep it hidden from the others to avoid you being in trouble even taking the brunt of it.

If you find yourself spending time with Richard, trust that Rebecca is there, too, being the sweetest in the group as well. Initially, she might not fully grasp her tendencies, but once she does, her sole concern is your safety and happiness. She frowns upon hearing Jill and Chris discussing ways to keep you confined and is the one who tries to reassure the others not to be too 'harsh' on you.

Edward may appear intimidating, but he's actually a softie at heart. While he might not warm up to you as quickly as Forest and Joseph did, given some time, he grows fond of you and eventually places him as your trusted friend. He's aware that his demeanor can be intimidating and desires nothing more than for you to feel comfortable opening up to him, always offering a smile whenever he sees you around the RPD.

----------------------------------------------

Chief Irons has learned that you're the one person he can't even dare to go near. You might be a troublemaker, breaking every rule in the book, but Albert will put his foot down to ensure nothing comes of it. It's enough that the rest of the team has a dislike towards Irons, and he, along with everyone in the RPD, knows that crossing you means crossing the Stars team.

Wesker also keeps the extent of his monitoring and knowledge of you a closely guarded secret. He's aware that Kenneth, Enrico, Richie, Edward, and Barry all vocally dislike the idea of 'stalking' you in such ways (they all do but try to keep it as ‘morally right’). In his grand plan, he hopes to lure you away, but he must do it in a way that won't raise suspicion.

You have the most protective people watching over you. Even a simple accident like someone spilling a cup on you puts everyone on high alert.

Your favoritism doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the RPD, sparking rumors around the station that Edward and Barry quickly shut down whenever they hear someone bad-mouthing you.

Chris and Forest, on the other hand, can be incredibly impulsive, leading to all sorts of issues that Wesker and Enrico have to deal with. Jill and Joseph even got in trouble once for punching someone.

That means going on no dangerous missions; the one thing they all agree on. Wesker ensures that all your missions are carefully managed, eliminating any risks of you being in danger, and he pretends not to know what you mean if you ask. The other members are willing to gaslight you, suggesting that you just happen to get the easy ones, even Rebecca and Brad.

They're all eager to fight each other to train you, each claiming they're better at teaching you self-defense. Chris and Forest are the ones who usually end up teaching you since they're often the first ones to arrive. But everyone knows that if Wesker insists on training you, they can't object. And it's probably for the best, as some (Uhm Richard, and Edward) will pretend to lose or go easy on you because they don't want to "hurt" you.

The team normally doesn’t go out, but they all want to spend time with you. Usually, all of you go to diners (except for Wesker, wonder why). There's a little argument over who should order you to prove who knows you the best.

Your seat is chosen to please everyone, sometimes between Jill and Chris, other times between Richard and Rebecca. Another silent argument happens when they debate on who should pay for you; Enrico succeeds by slipping the payment to the waiter when the others aren’t looking.

Everyone always makes sure you come home safe. You expect numerous calls from everyone checking up on you. They all secretly know you're fine, as they're in cahoots with each other, but they just want to hear your voice.

There's also a chance that if Richard, Forest, or Jill are the ones bringing you home, they'll make some excuse about needing to stay overnight because they're tired or the weather is bad.

 If you need someone to drive you to the station or pick you up, perhaps because you can’t drive, they're all willing to fight each other once again to do so. They've left important meetings or appointments countless times just to rush to your aid. It's almost always Wesker, Richard, Enrico (and sometimes Chris) who beat the others in picking you up.

Once again, you're always taken to events that the teammates have. Brad is getting takeout, he's on his way to pick you up since he assumes you're also hungry. Forest wants to go out for a drink, prepare for him to be at your door, and when you attend together, he’s protecting your drink with his life and will even pretend to be your boyfriend. Barry has a baseball game he wants to attend, so why not come with him and his family. 

Jill needs to pick up a new outfit or something in the way, she decides to take you as well. Rebecca comes along, and sometimes the three of you have spa days in the process. Rebecca also loves going on road trips with you; there needs to be a person or two with you to ensure nothing bad happens. Rebecca once brought you to her favorite team's basketball game and the two of you shared those nachos and fries. It was Rebecca's happiest memory.

Movie nights are a must. Brad and Edward agree with anything you wish to watch, while Jill and Joseph are fighting over which ones to watch. Chris and Forest are trying to get your attention more than actually watching a movie. Meanwhile, Rebecca is actually enjoying the movie and wants to talk to you about it later on. She and Richard ensure you have your popcorn, and Richard brings your favorite bakery treats.

Expect to be always praised when you're around the team. Wesker himself praises you for a job well done whenever you find a clue or bring him the right file. Richard, Edward, and Rebecca are the most vocal. Also expect Chris and Barry to give you a pat on the back, while Forest and Joseph jokingly pat your head.

Wesker has you as his right-hand assistant, even when it’s not officially confirmed as such. You're tasked to help and stay by him whenever he needs assistance. He pretends not to see everyone side-eyeing him when he places your desk right next to his, but then again, they all ignore his stare when they come to your desk for whatever excuse they need.

The best people to comfort you are Barry, Enrico, Kenneth, and Richard. These men hate seeing you in tears. Brad will try to make you laugh while hugging you, while also finding the right words to comfort you. You can lie to Enrico, and he'll still know; he's memorized your body language, pulling you into an immediate hug before the tears even come. 

Kenneth's ability to comfort shines in giving the best advice and solving any issues you have. Richard will sit next to you and listen; it could be the middle of the night, and he'll gladly answer any call or stay up to do any activities that will cheer you up.

Something everyone has huge arguments about is punishments; it gets heated at times. These discussions are, of course, not done in your presence.

Wesker is open to punishments, Chris and Jill agree with precautions, and Barry may reluctantly agree but claim he wants nothing to do with it. Brad and Rebecca voice their disagreement but can’t really intervene. Edward and Richie, like Barry, say they want nothing to do with it. Forest and Joseph don’t like it but will let the others make the decisions. Enrico and Kenneth are the most vocal against such decisions.

-------------------------------------------

Everything is going well in the team until the mansion incident.

You had to be with the Alpha team, unaware of the fate that fell upon the Bravo team, as there was no way Wesker would have let you out of his sight.

You had to witness Joseph get mauled by the zombie dogs, and if it weren’t for Wesker shooting the one coming at you and Chris pulling you along, you may have been a victim of it. Getting into the mansion has them immediately checking for injuries, only to realize you are just shaken up.

If you try to suggest coming along with Chris to check on what’s happening, Wesker immediately disapproves, even pulling rank to have you stay by him, and Jill agrees. Chris assures you he'll be just fine.

Things happen and it may lead you to be separated from Wesker and Jill. It makes all of them panic and look for you. Chris is nervous but assumes you must be with either Wesker or Jill. Jill and Wesker are trying to remain calm as they search. There is a chance you will meet Rebecca, who informs you of Edward's death, and this leads to you reuniting with Chris. 

Alternatively, you may come across Barry, who refuses to leave your side, leading you to reunite with Jill. Both scenarios will have you meeting Richard, who immediately embraces you upon seeing you safe. You may also encounter Enrico, who seems hesitant to inform you of who he believes is responsible for the situation.

Forbid you get injured at any moment in the mansion, everyone will be in panic. Barry will try to reassure you, holding your wound while Jill rushes to get any herbs. Or Rebecca will try to tend to you while Chris silently panics in the background, refusing to leave your side. Richard will insist you stay in a room for your safety while he tries to find Rebecca or first aid. Enrico tries to remain calm, bringing you along with him as he rids the area of any zombies, fearing the risk of leaving you alone.

Soon enough, you will find out about Wesker's involvement, and his first act is to keep you as a hostage, even knocking you out. He’s merely bluffing but needs to keep the others away. If he encounters Enrico, he is well aware the man knows he’s a traitor and will kill him in front of you. After all, you will know the truth either way.

It all ends with Wesker believed to be 'dead,' killed by the tyrant, and the mansion about to blow up. You and everyone mourn all those who you have lost, and you are surrounded by the remaining survivors as they try to comfort you and tend to any injuries you may have gained. 

You are too lost in your grief and all you have experienced that you don’t realize the eyes all watching you, as they all make a silent vow to themselves to forever keep you safe. And most of all, you don’t know that Wesker has been reborn, getting out of the mansion as he plots his revenge.

@aphroditelovesu @yanderes-galore @gwynsly @tiddlybops

[ravens-two]

PAC: Your Next Romantic Relationship

This reading includes:

the person you'll be dating next

The extended reading includes:

when and how you'll meet this person

what the relationship will be like

any 18+ messages

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone. Also, this content is 18+ only!

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Who are you dating next

Eight of Cups, Moon, Tarragon - Regeneration

The first thing I'm getting for this person is that they could be a scientist or work in research, maybe even as a teacher. They seem like really deep thinkers and people who are very well-read or that tend to read a lot. Besides spending a lot of time and energy on their work - that seems to be their passion - they also look like they really enjoy traveling. Some of them may have to travel for work (and now I'm seeing that some are archeologists or something like that), but most seem to travel for pleasure. No matter what your next person is someone who has travelled a lot and has seen a lot of the world - and even if they haven't travelled "that much" it could be that you haven't travelled much at all so that's why it seems so much.

Your person is also a very deep thinker. I'm getting something very specific about them which is that they like to get to the depth of any subject. Let's say that you're talking about your favourite dishes, your person wants to get to the bottom of the subject, they want to analyze why you love those dishes, the memories you have of them, how hard or easy they are to cook, then they may get into the culinary arts in general or the history of food or something like that. Do you know what I mean? Once you start talking about something with them it's like they unravel the subject as if it were a ball of yarn.

Your person seems to be an introvert. They don't really like crowds and tend not to go out or party too much, they prefer to keep to their friend group or to small groups in general. I feel that this is also related to how much and how deeply they like to talk, it's better suited for smaller groups. For some of you it might also surprise you that this person is more spiritual than you thought. They might not practice anything in particular (including religion), but they very much believe in something bigger than them and are very open to the spiritual side of things. This is also someone who has been through a lot and has had to reinvent themselves multiple times. I feel like your person is very wise and has a lot of life experience specifically because of this - they've just been through so much shit that would have broken down any other person.

When it comes to their appearance I'm seeing pale skin - and depending on skin tone you can even see their veins - and dark hair. Mostly black and brown hair, but I'm also seeing red (dyed I think).  In general, they seem to be taller and leaner. Even for the men they don't like they are very muscled. I'm also seeing that some of them have dark circles under their eyes. So what I just heard was that they "look a bit like a fucked up Tim Burton character come to life" lol. I do think that they are good-looking but in that Timothée Chalamet type of way. Also, I think that your person has huge eyes!

check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 2

Who are you dating next

Three of Wands, Strength, Marigold - Positivity

The first thing I'm seeing for this pile is tanned skin and defined muscles. Your person looks like they spend the whole day under the sun. I'm literally seeing them wet as if they had just come out of water. An interesting detail I just got is that they have body hair, especially for the men they seem to have hair on their chest and tights. I feel like for most of you this person has really dark eyes, the lightest color I can see here is a darker shade of hazel eyes. No matter what they have warm and very expressive eyes. It's the type of eyes that you feel safe just looking at them, honestly.

Speaking of warmth and safety I think that your person just radiates those vibes, especially if they're a man. They seem/are someone who's reliable and handy, basically someone who you can call at any time of day or night and you know that they'll find some way to help you. They also seem the type of person who really cares about the safety of your friends, not just yours. This is very specific to some of you, it doesn't really apply to everyone, but your person also has a bit of a himbo energy. Like they have a really good heart, very good looking and strong looking too, but not much going on in their pretty head. But, again, this is just for some of you! For most of you this is someone who is pretty smart and very aware of the current political/social climate.

One of the main things I'm seeing is that your person is very hopeful and definitely an optimist. They try to cheer you up whenever they feel like you're feeling down or when you need just an extra push of motivation. The thing that keeps coming up though is that isn't just for you it's for your friends, their friends, the people around you two. It makes me think of those guys who only want to buy a drink to the girl they're interested in instead of the whole group and it's the polar opposite of that. If you're hanging out with your person and your friends, your person will make sure to treat your friends well and make them feel welcomed.

For some reason I feel like your person might be a firefighter or EMT, I'm not sure why, but it seems like more of a physical/manual type of work. This person doesn't look like they're sitting behind a desk the whole day. They might work the night shift too. No matter what they do, their work is a source of satisfaction for them and their "way to contribute to society" so it's important that their work aligns with their values. This person has a bleeding heart and they're always trying to help whenever they can. They might do volunteer work or community work of some kind, but this is someone who really cares about their community and the world around them. A bit random, but your person might cry very easily, just like watching a commercial or something like that. It seems that they are very emotional. A bit like pile 1 in that sense, but I also feel that your person has been through a lot and that's exactly what made them kinder and made them worry more about the people around them. Very, very specific but I think that hunger and poverty is something that really "hurts" them if that makes sense. It would be the thing that they would just erase if they could.

check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 3

Who are you dating next

Sun, World, Sweet corn - Ritual

Okay, the first thing I'm seeing is that your person loves eating and cooking and feeding people to be honest. They see meals almost as a sacred ritual that helps to create stronger bonds with other people. I feel like they're really good cooks, especially because they have a good palate. Your person also seems like the type of person that is really close to their family, like calling/texting them every day, sharing a meal together every weekend, that kind of stuff.

This person might have OCD or something like that, but their daily rituals seem very important to them. They are someone who loves routine and feel a bit anxious when things don't go as they had planned. Honestly, that seems to be the biggest issue for them they get really disappointed/annoyed when they plan something and it doesn't happen, even in simple things. Let's say that you two plan to go watch a movie and eat popcorn, but when you get there there ins't popcorn. Well your person is devastated. It's only for a couple of moments, but yeah it really hits them strong.

With the Sun and the World though, this is a very successful and hard-working person, but also someone who is very happy go lucky. Like they genuinely believe that life is beautiful and a miracle and they will romanticize even the smallest things. They seem like the type of person who will just tell you "it's going to be fine" even in the face of something absolutely tragic and that couldn't possibly "be fine" (somehow they may end up being right though).

They seem to have a very child-like and radiant personality too if that makes sense. In a way it's because they really attract other people's attention just for being themselves, but also because they just seem so genuinely happy and joyful. When they laugh it makes other people want to laugh as well. You may get an instinct to protect them at times, because it seems that they are too innocent for this harsh world. They're definitely dreamers and they think that even the smallest action can change the world. They have strong beliefs about what they think is wrong with the world and what should be changed.

When it comes to appearance I'm seeing blonde or light brown hair, maybe even some ginger here too or maybe a brass tone. In general, I'm seeing really long hair, especially for the women, and mostly wavy or curly. Although I think that the shorter your person's hair is the curlier it is. For their eyes I also lighter eyes here, even the brown eyes are more of a honey shade. The most striking thing though is that your person - no matter what they look like - is very beautiful. They get other people's attention precisely because of how physically striking they are. I feel like they tend to be very symmetrical and their bodies are very good looking too. It seems that they tend to be taller and curvier, both men and women.

check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 4

Who are you dating next

Two of Wands, Ten of Wands, Peppermint - Success

While doing the reading for this pile "Ocean Eyes" suddenly came up so I really feel like your person is probably going to have blue or green eyes, maybe even hazel too. I also feel like their eyes have this very emotional quality to them, it's like you could get lost them in them because they're so expressive. Honestly, I get a very big Ian Somerhalder vibe here like with the dark hair and very light eyes and that contrast. I think that in general your person is a person of contrasts, of light and dark and even contradictions.

Do you know that Walt Whitman's poem "Do I contradict myself? / Very well then I contradict myself / (I am large I contain multitudes)"? I think that they really embody these lines. I'm also getting Fernando Pessoa's "I am nothing. / I shall never be anything. / I cannot even wish to be anything. / Apart from this, I have within me all the dreams in the world." Your person is very, very poetic pile 4. Maybe they're into literature (especially the classics) or they really love reading/writing poetry. This person is very deep, but again, filled with contradictions. They are hard to understand because they seem to be many things all at once. It's a very Gemini energy to be honest.

Apart from this your person is also very successful. They may come from money or they worked really hard until they got to where they are. No matter what though they dedicate a lot of their time to their work, to the point that they can't even rest properly because they can't take their mind off work. Some of them might also have some personal project or a business that they feel very passionate about and are just waiting for the right time to "launch" it. They're someone who makes a lot of plans, but not like in pile 3, more in the sense of making a plan to break down the steps that they need to take. This is for organization not control, if that makes sense. They also seem to really enjoy traveling, but either don't have much time for it or they end up getting tired in the middle of their trip. They feel like the type of person who has wanderlust, but also gets homesick easily. 

They are introverts for sure, and although this doesn't mean that they're antisocial it really does feel like they spend more time at home or by themselves. To me this feels more like they never really get the company that they crave. They really need mental stimulation, and the people around them can't really offer them that. Something that's coming up is that they might struggle with the little demon and angel on their shoulders sometimes. I feel like the little devil sometimes really wants them to cause some mischief or chaos and they try to control this. Honestly, what I'm getting from this is that they may annoy you on purpose, for their own amusement. I don't think that this is toxic, it's more meaningless stuff that will make you laugh rather than really annoy you.

What I can tell you pile 4 is that your person is very, very unique. I think you'll know it's them as soon as you meet them because you'll think that you've never met someone like this.

check out the extended reading on patreon

[anghraine]

My Rings of Power re-watch is continuing slowly now that I have more time (though not always more attention span for anything except games, thanks dissertation -> my mother nearly dying -> getting COVID). But one of the things I'm really enjoying about Galadriel in ROP is that it doesn't always frame her as the wisest and most insightful person in every interaction she has, and in fact it is clear that she's fucking up in very significant ways because of how hard and relentless she's become through her eons of suffering and her determination to exact a price for it. She is not well!

However, she is nevertheless right about some very important matters that most people don't want to see, and she's being condescended to by men of her people who are much younger, less experienced, and less correct than she is, and it's continually emphasized that she is the most individually powerful and competent Elf around regardless of any of this and that her fuck-ups, while disastrous, are cool and sexy of her also.

So many male action heroes are troubled men haunted by whatever their particular tragic pasts are, but these men are also super impressive and badass (often to a degree far beyond all probability) in a harsh, capable way founded on never giving up ever, so while they are permitted to make major errors, it's in a cool and sexy way that just makes them more appealing.

This isn't a condemnation of that; there's a place for that kind of action hero and I tend to enjoy them when it's not copaganda or something. But I like women, and I like women to benefit from a full package of tropes that are often watered down when female characters get any part of them at all, so I enjoy a female character in something that historically has been such a dudefest getting full unhinged brooding hypercompetent action hero treatment.

I even fully support the show prioritizing Galadriel getting the good wig. Her hair flowing dramatically in the wind is actually more important than someone like Celebrimbor getting dramatic impractical action hair (with love, he's an arts and crafts nerd hung up on his academia celebrity grandfather, nothing about this demands good hair).

But I also like it not only in general and not only for a female character, but also for Galadriel specifically. I was just re-reading the description of her in the Shibboleth of Fëanor, and (Teleporno aside) it tracks pretty well. The whole thing about young Galadriel's burning determination to pursue Fëanor to the ends of the earth and thwart him in whatever ways she could seems exactly the sort of thing ROP Galadriel would do, and while ROP is set much later, the Shibboleth suggests that Galadriel was still recognizably that person for long afterwards:

"Pride still moved her when, at the end of the Elder Days after the final overthrow of Morgoth, she refused the pardon of the Valar ... It was not until two long ages more had passed, when at last all that she had desired in her youth came to her hand, the Ring of Power and the dominion of Middle-earth of which she had dreamed, that her wisdom was full grown."

There's a lot of Galadriel material that Tolkien wrote and he continually overhauled, revised, discarded, and amended the Galadriel backstory to such an extent that her history is one of the most chaotic, tangled, and irreconcilable zones of Tolkien lore. I don't think anyone is obligated to prioritize Shibboleth Galadriel if they have a different preferred version. But I really love that version of Galadriel and it does make her seem like probably the best canon female character option of this era for Action Hero Disaster Area (In A Cool and Sexy Way).

[salt216000]

I saw a post today that made me quite upset. Normally I'd just ignore, but I read some of the tags and they upset me quite a bit too.

Username is cropped out because I don't want to make it seem like I'm putting 'em on blast, I just want to give my opinion on this.

Transfem headcanons of Gabriel are absolutely fine. Awesome, even. But not while putting down transmasc headcanons at the same time.

The post makes a really interesting and good point! Transfem Gabriel does work well with his narrative of growth and discovery of his own identity, especially as someone cast out of Heaven for not achieving the ridiculous standards they set. That is a really good notion that, yes, being entirely honest, I don't see as frequently from that angle.

But you do NOT have to say it is a 'failure of the fandom' and pin the blame on more people headcanoning him as transmasc. If you want transfem Gabriel content then you can make it: art, writing, musings, anything, but you don't have to put down other creators for projecting their own ideas and potentially their own experiences onto a character they like and relate to.

I'm going to preface this next part with: I am NOT disparaging against transfem Gabriel headcanons, or giving reasons as to why they shouldn't exist. All I am doing here is clarifying why people tend to headcanon him as transmasc. Francis Xie was hired by Hakita to draw concept art, and he is known for drawing a lot of artwork of Gabriel (some NSFW in nature, as a warning in case you decide to look for yourself), and in said artwork he depicts his headcanon of Gabriel being transmasc. Of course, this is not gospel, it is not officially canon and even if it was people are allowed to headcanon him as whatever they want, I only bring this up to help explain why the headcanon may be so popular.

More personally, I find it really gender affirming to have a character in the ballpark of masculine in frame and voice, but to see him wear more feminine clothing in official artwork without it being degrading. It's very nice to see a depiction of this to help push back against the reinforcement that masculine presenting people must conform to certain standards, and that's why I personally enjoy the headcanon too.

There are also a decent few characters that DO get more transfem rep: Mirage, the mindflayers, mannequins, V2, so I don't understand why it's a problem that it is the minority with Gabriel. I wasn't originally going to post this publically, but these tags pushed me to do so:

Username once again cropped out for the same reason as above. To be clear, these are NOT OP's tags.

I don't care what the original tone OP meant was, if it was joking or playful or whatever else, because the sentiment that that post gathered is absolutely wretched. I don't have much else to say about it without getting deeper into gender stuff that I don't want to extend this post with, but I'll reiterate my main point.

You can be upset that there aren't headcanons that represent a certain idea you prefer, but DO NOT put down others who have contrasting ideas in the same breath. If you want to make a post about Gabriel being transfem being a great narrative, go for it, no one will stop you, but do not fucking wrap in a 'transmasc headcanons are wrong and don't get it, and my headcanon is more correct', and at those tags in particular, do NOT treat transmasc headcanons like this, 'transmasc pandemic' is such an awful way to put it and makes me feel as though a line in the sand is being further drawn between transmascs and others who are not.

[saintsenara]

I know you responded with a meme, but if you're able I'd love to hear your thoughts on harry/hermione 👀

fine. i'll scream into a pillow periodically and get through this...

obviously, i don't actually find the concept of harmony sincerely upsetting - people shipping things is never that deep, and because, as i've said before, i subscribe to the principle that any pairing is possible if you just have enough nerve. i've been recommended some harmony fics by people who are fonder of the ship, and while i've not found them immediately compelling, i do appreciate that there are plenty of people who disagree.

but my feelings are basically the same for harmony as they are for dramione: that it's never done interestingly.

harmony is - like all hermione pairings except [broadly] romione - a breeding ground for fanon!hermione, who is perfect and flawless and so clever she can solve millennia-old mysteries in afternoon. i hate this version of the character because i find her boring - it's just standard self-insert stuff, which is fine but not something i have any interest in reading. i similarly dislike the version of harry who appears in these stories, who ends up - like all men in hermione pairings except [broadly] ron - being either this impossibly sophisticated and suave intellectual with the body of a greek god or a doormat who's happy to shut the fuck up forever and do whatever she says.

[i also hate - obviously, since he's my king - the way harmony stories are often even more egregious than dramione ones in writing ron as a cruel and violent misogynist who is ontologically indistinct from your average death eater. and i think it somewhat proves my point that neither of these ships work particularly well that this character assassination has to take place in order to make them plausible...]

and i think the flattening of harry and hermione's personalities within most harmony is the main thing which keeps the ship from being interesting. because - while i certainly don't go in for the common anti-harmony argument that harry actively dislikes hermione - it's undeniable that there is a lot about the two of them which wouldn't be conducive to a harmonious [lol] relationship.

their communication styles - hermione works through problems by debating them, harry prefers not to be challenged - are the obvious one. their ways of expressing affection - hermione shows people she cares about them by nagging them and meddling in their lives, harry very much does not - are another. they have extremely different views about authority, they decompress in different ways [harry is someone who clearly needs to keep physically active to clear his head, hermione is much more of a homebody], and harry's impulsiveness is a poor match for hermione's fondness for planning.

they are also similar in ways which would cause them to butt heads. both have a tendency towards obsessiveness, which they rely in canon on ron pulling them out of. both have a significant capacity for cruelty and extremely black-and-white moral codes - harry has a tendency towards forming judgements on people and situations based on whether they are people he likes or things he benefits from [i.e. how he's appalled by dobby's treatment because his masters are the malfoys, but doesn't give a shit about kreacher's because his abusive master is sirius], while hermione tends to regard any rule-breaking she does as justified even if she'd regard it as outrageous from anyone else [i.e. her fury over harry appearing to use felix felicis to improve's ron's performance at quidditch when she herself confunded cormac mclaggen to get him onto the team...]. both have a tendency towards giving people the silent treatment when they're angry. both are incredibly stubborn...

and so on.

obviously, they also have positive qualities in common too - a shared loyalty, for one - but it always seems to me that the standard move in harmony is for authors to completely ignore these conflicting traits, either really over-egging what makes harry and hermione compatible platonically in the books or just inventing similarities [especially intellectual ones] to justify the pairing. whereas i would much prefer to see just how difficult it would be for harry and hermione to fall and sustain being in love with each other, and i've never seen that done compellingly.

but the conflict i'd love to see explored in harmony fics most of all, but which never seems to be acknowledged by fans of the pairing, is that [despite the fanon slander that ron is the person who behaves poorly towards her] harry is often horrible to hermione and hermione is often scared of harry.

this is at its most profound after ron leaves the horcrux hunt in deathly hallows, but we see several times throughout canon that - if ron isn't there to mediate between them - harry often treats hermione in a way which can be considered downright cruel. if she criticises him in a way he considers unjustifiable, he tends to side with other people against her [ron in prisoner of azkaban over the firebolt; ginny in half-blood prince over snape's textbook]. if she tries to reason with him he often beats her down with the force of his emotions [i.e. when she tries to get him to think about whether his vision of sirius in the department of mysteries might be a trick] or his convictions [i.e. when he lures her into near-death by being certain that nagini is really bathilda bagshot], and she often ends up having to soothe or appease him when he's the one who's screamed at her.

hermione is also scared more generally of harry's experiences - she's by far the least amenable of the trio to talking about voldemort [even though she says his name earlier than ron does] - and mission, which puts up a barrier between them which will be difficult to bring down post-war. i think there's something which could be really interesting there - the most interesting dynamic in hinny, after all, is when harry and ginny's tendency to not actually be honest with each other is explored - but unfortunately at the minute that sort of character work is drowning in a sea of "ron is so stupid and harry and i just love talking about classic literature, come darling, put on your leather trousers and let us solve world hunger; i look like emma watson" nonsense.

dull!

[drifloonz]

Omg hi! I very recently got REALLY into Strangled Red so finding your writing for it was such a nice surprise, it's feeding my hyperfixation for this man so well. I love how you write and portray him especially since I'm a sucker for character phycology. If you're still up for it, could you maybe give some headcannons for Steven reacting to the s/o reader being hit on and not being into it? I just think it has nice writing potential and I'm a sucker for jealousy/possessiveness and overprotectiveness when the character has good reason to be. If you don't feel up for it I completely understand that, and just know that I've loved all the writing you've done so far! :)

ty sm.. i fucking love Analyzing steven hes like a petri dish algae or something that im putting under a microscope. he means so much to me and i love picking him apart like the little freak [lovingly] that he is.

i am very glad i make ppl think of him and give ppl food that is my Goal . Give people good steven food. steven food makes it sound like stevens a creature u need to feed. thats s!3v3n not steven /j

ALSO SAME HERE i love jealousy and possessiveness and being overprotective within like. Normal means. Maybe its bc i have bpd idk but i also like when ppl are jealous in regards to me or clingy... makes you feel important sometimes and thats nice to some people including me hehehe.

anyways !!

jealous steven x s/o reader!

__

♡ steven's not one for going out with you - he prefers to rot in his house. it's awful, but, at least you visit him and are there with him a lot of the time. or he's with you in your house rotting a little less. either or is fine to him.

♡ although, recently he's been trying more. maybe you have a job and he likes to visit you because he gets lonely - he's not all too dissimilar to a growlithe or a clingy litten waiting for their owner to get home. except he's a grown ass 6-or-7' man that tends to intimidate everyone just by being around, so how clingy he is sometimes is kind of jarring. gap moe.

♡ or maybe you just go out a lot and he likes to tag along, because well. he likes you. and you're probably dating?

♡ .. and because he's scared that something will happen to you when he's not around.

♡ . . . he won't admit that part, though.

♡ he'll often be overaffectionate when and if you visit him when you haven't for a while, too. clingy overaffectionate. lots of cuddling and silent affection from the big guy.

♡ he especially doesn't like thinking about the fact that other people can possibly see you and have less than great thoughts about you or possibly be making passes at you when he's not there - you're his, dammit. ... and he's all yours, not like anyone else is competing for him these days.

♡ so when he is there, and when someone does, and has the balls to do it around or in front of him?

♡ well. probably when he's around but not immediately close to you. and as such...

♡ he'll probably stand up if he overhears it / sees it, or just thinks anybody's being just a biiiit too friendly with you. goes behind you, maybe while you're still talking to the person, busy and unaware that he's Approaching.

♡ he's so tall the shadow of his figure looms over the person who even dared to try.

♡ he'll just glare at them, until they fuck off. honest to god. he hates talking to people, especially strangers, and his resting neutral face being turned into slightly more of a resting bitch face sends the message better than anything he could say ever would.

♡ he can look scarier if he wants to, maybe make his eyes glow red and give a bit more of a snarl - but just his resting face seems to scare people off real easily. good. he doesn't want to put in too much effort- plus, it might look wrong, or odd. him emoting in any good or bad way more than his usual resting face tends to look weird. he has no idea how he used to do it so much more when he was younger ... ( HE'S SUCH A FUCKING LOSERRRR . sorry continue on . )

♡ and after the fact - or if they somehow don't get the memo from that - he'll try harder.

♡ some possessive touches - a squeeze of the hand, pulling you closer to him, maybe resting his hands on your hips or shoulder - maybe even his head resting on your head... anything that silently tells other people that you two have something deeper going on.

♡ he doesn't want to actively scare them off. it'd cause a scene, and steven already hates being in public and around people as much as it is, especially because he can feel everyones eyes always on him like he's some freak. which he is, but ... it makes him feel Some sort of way. reminds him of how everyone stared at him, almost as if he was some laughingstock of kanto, when miki had-

he can't keep thinking about this. something'll happen. he doesn't want to get like that in public again, ever.

♡ anyways.

♡ even if the person already left, steven will be quick to make it clear to everyone else and you that you two are an item. he doesn't want anyone else to look at you or talk to you in that way.

♡ ... he doesn't want to lose you. you're about all he has these days, and he doesn't think he's the best choice of a boyfriend or even anyone you should be dating at all - always scared he'll do or say something. always scared of what he did back then coming back to haunt him, always feeling guilty and like you should know about the things he did. he thinks he's awful, honestly. he keeps things from you, and things you should probably know. he's not the greatest person.

♡ steven could go on and on in his head about why you should not be dating him of all people - you're so beautiful, too. you deserve better, to have anyone you want.

♡ but you are dating him. and he's happy. happier than he's ever been, and he feels loved, and lucky - but also scared. he has something to lose, again. and he's terrified.

♡ so he has to work to show you that he loves you. cherishes you more than the world. this is just one of those small ways he does it, even if in an odd way and due to him being possessive and clingy. but he's like that for a very good reason.

♡ because you're everything to him.

♡ sometimes he's glad that people are scared of him. he can protect you that way. even if he can never fully integrate back to society - not that he ever even fucking wants to - he can at least be around you.

♡ you joke about him being like your personal bodyguard sometimes.

♡ there's a faint smile when he hears that.

__

i hope u enjoyed i went kind of crazy. I think about how much he'd be scared to be dating someone again sssoooo badly LIKE HE HAS SOMETHING TO LOSE AGAIN. HE'S TERRIFIED OF LOSING YOU TO SOMETHING HE CAN'T CONTROL!! like. Especially death or some freak accident like with miki and mike but from also, just not being good enough, being a bad partner, someone charming you more than him... etc. this all comes to a head in how clingy and possessive he is.

He has no idea how he'd deal with it either and doesn't even want to think ab it because if he did he'd tweak ( go s!3v3nmode and lock himself in his room about it. )

he will Not lose you because he cannot fucking lose you and if it means being a fucking loser and getting protective of you if anyone even so much as tries to flirt with you, then so be it.

I LOVE EXPLORING THIS SIDE OF HIM. HE'S NOT A YANDERE OR WHATEVER THE FUCK HE JUST HAS INSAAANE ISSUES. TRAUMA. PTSD. AND BPD. and also Really bad paranoia. Probably some other shit too maybe ocd fuck if i know He doesnt know either but basically he has. Issues. and doesnt know how to handle them esp since hes been isolated so hes Working on it. Kind of.

ty for requesting ^-^ its good to get in the writing groove again. altho my keyboard feels a little weird and wacky which doesnt help and i Should clean it but thank god i can type properly again.

[natsmagi]

sorry, i really don’t get you because you say you draw tsumugi with the body you do because she ‘seems like the type of girl who would have a good body (weird that you call that kind of ‘no fat but on the boobs sex doll body’ good but okay?) but covers it up’ and then don’t draw her covered up.

like you draw her in tiny skirts with her ass hanging out and shit constantly, in every one of your drawings is her body emphasised and on show and i just want to know what your fucking deal is? not only does it feel really mischaracterising for tsumugi, but it’s just really weird and gross. also you’ve literally never drawn a single fat character, all your characters are stick thin with different boob and hip sizes.

are we seriously doing this again. its ok to not like my art. its ok to not have it be to your tastes. its ok to disagree with my portrayals. it doesnt need to be much deeper than that

your rephrasing of my quotes is misleading though. ive re-emphasized the point more clearly before, but my points are based on societal standards and expectations, not my own personal preferences. big boobs small waist is the body type that gets ogled at the most, stereotypically speaking, so it makes it fun for her to have that body as her personality and the way she carries herself isnt whats commonly associated with it. with my depictions i try to take context into question. i dont just give the character a body or appearance that i like, i try to think how i can translate their character along with changing their figure (if at all). of course, i am not perfect, my stuff will not appeal to everyone and my takes might be disagreeable, and thats ok.

as for my tsumugi depiction; i dont know what you want me to say. tsumugi wears a button-up shirt with pants and a belt in canon. in my femstars version i simply change the pants into a pencil skirt. the belt is synched around the waist. its gonna make her waist look smaller than it is, as the belt is highlighting that area and creating contrast. this is a common way to dress and i honestly dont think i draw her in revealing clothes too often? like yea it happens. duh. and ive drawn some horny and suggestive art with her to add. but i do not think i go out of my way to flaunt her body or have her wear as little as humanly possible (which i dont even think would be an issue. an artist having fun is not the end of the world). i mainly do it when its, again, a suggestive drawing, or when its been for a joke. its not really meant to be anything deep sure, maybe she has her cleavage out every once in a while, but thats just. Her having boobs. i give natsume revealing clothes just as, if not more often than i do tsumugi, but people dont seem to care/notice as shes rather curveless. and idol clothes are separate from personal clothes that theyd casually wear because its what they enjoy, and its the idol clothes that tend to have that more "attractive" tinge to them her body isnt the focal point of my art very often either?? like if ur just staring at her boobs in every single one of my drawings atp thats on u

[iamgodsoopsie]

Astarion Headcanons (that you probably won't like) Pt. 3:

Part 1 link

Part 2 link

More Astarion headcanons that are mostly me projecting onto a fictional character to help me process my own trauma!

BG3 does an excellent job at depicting SA trauma and the beginning of the healing process/journey. Many of the headcanons I've seen floating around (intentionally or unintentionally) gloss over the uglier side of healing from (prolonged) trauma. I'm not judging anyone for magically healing him, he's fictional after all, but I'd like to make some more ...realistic... headcanons.

Disclaimer: Everyone's healing process looks different, but they tend share commonalities. These headcanons are based on my own experiences. Not everyone who is healing from their trauma will experience what I have or have experienced it like I have.

[Please don't message me with explicit details about your trauma. I am at the point in my healing journey where I can share my experiences, and commiserate with other's similar experiences, but I am unable to support others in a more personal manner at this time. I wish you the best of luck in your healing process/ journey.]

Spoiler warning

Mental illness, SA, & SH (suicidal ideation) Trigger Warnings: More descriptive and potentially triggering than part 1, but about equal to part 2.

These headcanons are based on an Astarion who is still a spawn and romantically involved with a Tav who honestly loves him and isn't abusive or manipulative. Also Cazador is dead and Astarion got to stab him. They also assume that he himself does not turn into Cazador 2.0 or wish.com Cazador.

Have things been going well for awhile? Is he reclaiming his sexuality at an exponential rate? Does he think he's practically conquered his trauma?

-> If you said 'Yes' to any of the questions above, then be ready for: A trigger he didn't know he had hitting him out of no where and setting his mental health on fire.

->-> If he's at a place in his healing journey that he is able to recognize what happening and use his healthy coping tools/ honest communication to process his unexpected emotional (maybe literal) flashback then it'll be a not fun time for him, but he'll get through it fairly quickly with minimal mental damage.

->->-> If this happens closer to the beginning of his healing journey then be ready for him to spiral and catastrophize. He'll insist that he'll never truly be free of Cazador, that he's broken, that he isn't allowed to be happy, etc. All you can really do during this time is be there for him. Reassure him that you love him and that you believe that he will get better.

->↑ This is a normal part of the healing process, it's shitty and God-awful- but it gets easier to manage and happens less frequently over time.

Even if he weren't an immortal vampire he's still a high-elf and will probably outlive you. And boy oh boy the pressure he's going to put himself under to hurry up and heal is going to be immense AND counterproductive!

-> Poor bby is terrified that he'll finally be happy only for it to be ripped away from him.

->-> Him rushing his healing will only make it harder for him to heal, and he knows this. But Gods damn it all he can't seem to shake the feeling that he's running out of time (okay Hamilton).

->->-> I gotta be honest, I have no fucking clue how to help him with this. I suppose that the only thing you can do is love him with the time ya'll have.

->->->-> TBH I can see him deciding that he'll KHS when you die. I know you have the best intentions, but asking him to live for you after your gone will (probably) be perceived as very manipulative.

->↑ I honestly don't think ya'll are going to come to an agreement on this if you're vehemently against the notion. It may be best to make your preference known and then leave the topic alone- as pressing it will only cause him to double down. (After 200 years of not being allowed to make any decisions for himself, he's not going to let anyone tell him how to 'live' or die).

Surviving "200 years of shit, PURE. SHIT!" had to have been exhausting. And healing from trauma is exhausting. All Astarion wants to do is rest but he feels that he can't truly rest until he heals from his trauma and he's so damn tired and has to keep dealing with this shit and he really wants to give up somedays but he'll be damned if he lets Cazador 'win'.

->↑ Healing is hard work. But it is so damn worth it.

I'll go back and edit any grammar and spelling mistakes later, but I'd really like to post this now.

[rainof5]

ward opinions (as of 12.3)

I might start liveblogging (if I do, it'll be tagged as #ward lb, so block that if you want), so I figured I might as well put out my opinions thus far.

Firstly, I went in with very low expectations, given the popular opinion of Ward. And so far, I've been very positively surprised. I really like Victoria as a narrator, and I find it a lot easier to relate to her than I did with Taylor. A lot of her thoughts and actions regarding Amy remind me of myself, and her experiences with and as the wretch sound a lot like how I've experienced dysphoria.

I like Breakthrough as a whole a lot. I find the Capricorn dynamic to be very interesting, and I fucking love Rain. Each of the characters have intriguing storylines that keeps me interesting in their development.

For storyline, I think the Hollow Point fight dragged on a bit, but I've never been super invested in fight scenes. I tend to get distracted and can't keep track of who did what, when, where, etc. I'm not able to visualize well and I can't really "picture" the fight happening as I read it, so I either have to put in a lot of effort to think logically about how things are happening or, more often, it just kind of blends together. I actually ended up taking ~6 months off from reading in the middle of 5.3 or 5.4 I think it was. That's just personal preference, though.

I'm personally much more invested in the character development and interpersonal dynamics, especially with Breakthrough.

I definitely thought the Goddess arc would be bigger and more disastrous, but I don't mind how it went. I knew that Chris eventually left the team and went with Amy, but I didn't expect it to happen like that, nor did I anticipate the Lab Rat reveal.

Currently, I'm loving the Cradle/mall cluster arc. I imagine if you don't like Rain/the mall cluster, their story would seem way too drawn out and obnoxious, but I really like it, with Rain definitely being my favorite character (at least thus far).

So far, my favorite moments have been Rain getting his haircut (I was reading it in class and had to try really hard not to cry during lecture lol. I still get teary-eyed thinking about it). I also really liked the Capricorn interludes. I relate to Byron a lot, and I don't think I've gotten so angry, especially while reading, at something in a while.

Character relationships I'm interested in seeing how they develop include Victoria and Tattletale, Victoria and Ashley, Rain and Tristan, March and Foil, Kenzie and Chicken Little, Vista and Bitch, and Victoria and Byron.

As with Worm, I'm constantly being surprised by moments of foreshadowing or just referencing small details. One example I can think of off the top of my head is the Lab Rat reveal. When it was revealed, I immediately went back to Worm to reread parts of it with this new context in mind, as well as to refresh my memory on who Lab Rat was. In Worm, he's described as "the last person one might expect to be a tinker. He had a mouth full of teeth that were screaming for braces, all crammed towards the very front of his mouth, overlapping and sticking out of lower gums" (27.3). That immediately hits two notes from what we know about Chris: 1) he has braces because him "changing" affects him physically. 2) he hid the fact that he was a tinker, claiming to be a changer instead.

I love these little details, and I'll notice some subtle foreshadowing as I read because of the things I've been spoiled on.

Of course, there are criticisms to be had (do we really need to know this character's chest size, Wildbow?), but overall, I'm really enjoying the story and characters.

[capricornlevi]

don't know what i wanted - kishibe x f!reader

cw: brief mention of violence, injury, trauma (not graphic), hurt/comfort, injury recovery, established relationship. brief mention of having children (no decision or plans made/no pregnancy mention), consumption of alcohol/cigarettes, explicit sexual content (oral sex f! receiving, fingering, hand jobs, vaginal sex), - NSFW, MDNI

word count: 12.8k

a/n: this is technically a sequel to one of my earlier devil hunter!reader x kishibe fics but can be read as a standalone fic as well! this fic takes place after kishibe's injury when he was in his 20s, but reader-character is his partner as opposed to quanxi. the fic essentially covers the aftermath of the injury & how they recover together. hope you enjoy my loves, thanks for reading! thank you so much to this anon who helped inspire the plot of this fic

if you prefer to read on ao3, it is published here

___

“Stay still,” you mumble, frowning as Kishibe pulls his head back when you try to unwrap the gauze by his jaw. He has a frown of his own etched on his face, eyes shut and lips pulled tight with discomfort – you’d feel pity for him if he weren’t being so damn uncooperative. “You’re gonna tear your stitches.”

Your couch, despite serving as Kishibe’s resting place while he recovers from his injury, is likely not the most appropriate place to carry out some fairly intensive first-aid. However, you have no other choice since he refuses to go to the doctor to change his bandages. 

One fucking hospital visit was enough, he’d muttered then, still drenched in his own blood, and you hadn’t the heart to argue with him. 

That was two weeks ago now – fourteen days of sleeplessness, of antibiotics and pain medication and bruise balm for his ribs, of waiting until the dead of night to cry so that he doesn’t hear you. 

You’re grateful that you weren’t there to witness it. It’s selfish, you’re well aware of that, but you’re not sure how you would have been able to cope if you had the images of the attack replaying in your head over and over, tormenting you both. 

“Thought you’d be nice to me,” he grumbles, and although he can’t really smile with his injury you can still hear one in his voice. “Your bedside manner is lacking today.”

“I tried being nice at first. You told me to ‘ act like normal and stop treating me like I’m dying ’, so that’s what I’m doing,” you counter, carefully grabbing the corner of the medical tape. 

He winces but doesn’t budge. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

“A direct quote, I’m afraid. And that was before they administered the morphine, so you can’t even blame it on that.”

You pull the tape gently, exposing the stitches and bruised skin. Kishibe tenses underneath you, every muscle in his body going rigid, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

It breaks your heart.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispers. His voice is quieter now since talking too much can be painful. “Bring back the tough bedside manner. I take back my complaint; I need to be humbled.”

You blink, trying to fix your expression into one that’s more impassive. 

“I’m just focusing on the stitches. I need to be careful at this part,” you say, knowing that both of you recognise the lie for what it is. 

This feels foolish. It’s everything you feared about getting involved with another devil hunter. You’re supposed to be unshakeable, callous to all loss, utterly focused on the mission. You’re supposed to be tough.

Instead, you’re close to tears at the thought of what would have happened if the strike had landed just a few inches lower.

Things were supposed to be different. You were supposed to do this whole hunter thing by yourself. This was never the plan; to factor another person into your life in such a significant way, to value their well-being as highly as you do your own. 

But he makes your days interesting. He’s kind at heart and values you as an equal as well as a partner. He always seems grateful to even be near you, and so you’ll happily tend to his wounds and keep him company, and even let him smoke indoors once the window is cracked. 

You remove the old gauze carefully, clean the stitches according to the nurse's directions, and replace it with fresh bandages while Kishibe stays still, eyes squeezed shut.

“Nearly done,” you reassure him softly, applying the medical tape at a careful angle, “nearly done, I promise … and … there. All clean.”

He opens his eyes and lifts a hand to his cheek. He’s not going to tug at the gauze, he knows better than that, but he ghosts his fingers over the bandages as if to check they’re really there.

You smile and lean in closer to press a kiss to his forehead, feeling the breath catch in his throat as you pull back. 

“It’s gonna make me ugly, y’know,” he says, letting out an amused scoff. 

“More ugly?” you gasp. He lifts up his hand to playfully flick your nose. 

Joking around like this is one of the only ways you know how to distract him, to show him this change is not going to upset things irreversibly. The last thing he wants is for you to be walking on eggshells around him. For his recovery to be a success he needs support, normalcy – he needs you to be yourself. 

“Yep," he agrees. "A nasty scar to complete the whole image.”

You scoff and climb into his lap, feeling him sink back into the couch cushions, muscles releasing their tension. His injuries are almost entirely confined to the upper half of his body but you still move with incredible care and gentleness as if he’ll break underneath your touch. Sensing your hesitation, he wraps a strong arm around you, pulling you closer. It’s easy to melt against him. 

“You know I could never find you ugly,” you reply with a chuckle, nestling against his shoulder. “I tried really hard, too. When we first got partnered up, I used to stare at you for hours trying to trick myself into finding you gross, but no luck. You’re stubbornly handsome and always will be. It’s a flaw of yours.”

“A flaw?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, voice muffled against his sweatshirt. “It’s really fucking annoying, actually.”

He kisses the crown of your head. “Ah, I can live with annoying .”

Even after the absolute chaos of the past fortnight, he still smells wonderful. Fresh and clean and familiar, with something deeper in there that draws you in even after smelling it a thousand times — it’s him. 

You hum thoughtfully. “I’m glad, because for a while there it was really inconvenient. Wanting to fuck your annoying partner is not something they teach you about during training.”

“But did they tell how inconvenient it is to keep fucking him afterwards?”

You laugh a little, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier with every passing moment. 

With Kishibe’s health taken care of for now, you feel at ease. The sensation of being wrapped in his broad arms takes you back to the first night you fell asleep beside him, where you let go of your worries and concerns, trading them for a brief window of serenity. 

It’s a type of comfort that you thought you could never have, a blessing only available to other people and never to devil hunters. 

“Nah, I just kinda accepted it at that point.”

He says something in response, but you fall asleep before you hear it. 

___

The pancake batter sizzles as it hits the pan, bubbles forming on the surface after a few moments on the heat – you finally got the temperature just right, and so you pour another serving alongside it for good measure.

Phew. You burnt the last one, and don’t have enough eggs for another batch.

This is your fourth time making pancakes this week since they’re a nice, soft food that can be easily cut up into tiny bites. They don’t cause too much strain to Kishibe’s jaw and you can flavour them with fruits and chocolate. Best of all, they’re significantly more appealing than the nutri-shakes the hospital supplied when he was discharged.

He took one sip before saying he’d rather you punch him directly on his dislocated shoulder than make him drink that shit again. 

As if on cue, Kishibe’s voice calls out from the living room. 

“Smells nice out there,” and it really does; the warm aroma of baked goods wafts through the air along with a hint of freshness from the fruits you prepared. It finally masks the smell of the smoke from the unsalvagable first batch. “Need any help?”

The offer sounds innocuous at first, but the desperation buried in the words tells you that he’s on the verge of disobeying his doctor’s orders.

“You’re on bed rest!” you shout back, stealing a chocolate chip from the bag on the countertop. The sweetness is enough to tempt you to grab another; this time, you pour a small handful and tip it into your mouth, savouring the taste. 

You flip the pancakes with a spatula only to wince as the metal burns your finger – you hadn’t realised that you’d left it so close to the heat. You drop the spatula and it clatters against the tiled floor. 

You groan, choosing to go clean the utensil before tending to your hand. It’s only a small injury but you grimace nonetheless as the pain starts to build, aching and throbbing. An angry welt forms on your fingertip. 

It was careless on your part, but it’s not surprising that your attention span is somewhat lacking as of late. You run your hand under some cold water and get lost in the sensation. 

Four days have passed since you last changed Kishibe’s bandages and two days since his most recent check-up (which you finally convinced him to attend), and things haven’t gone … smoothly, to say the least.

The doctor had kindly but firmly informed you both that in order for Kishibe to proceed to the next step in recovery, he needed to play it safe over the coming week. Unfortunately for him, playing it safe means that he has to actually get some rest.  

A lot of rest. 

He hadn’t even complained when receiving the news – he just sat there, utterly motionless, with displeasure and annoyance radiating off him like a fever. It worried you. This whole thing hasn’t been easy on you but it’s not exactly a walk in the park for him, either. He might pretend otherwise, but he doesn’t like to be benched. He’d do more to help you if he could.

As if it weren’t bad enough that he can’t hunt devils or even pay a visit to headquarters, now, he’s rendered completely and utterly defenceless, unable to even make himself a meal without assistance. It goes against every survival instinct in his body.

Part of you wishes he wouldn’t be so stubborn about saying on the couch. You had offered to share your bed with him - expected it, even - but he refused. Hurt at first, you hadn’t brought it up again, but once he understood your reaction he explained it was because his meds make him toss and turn in his sleep. He didn’t want to wake you. 

Then you offered to take the couch instead since he’s the one recovering, after all. Again, he turned that down, but you didn’t take that refusal as much to heart as the first one.

This setup - him staying on the couch, allowing you your own space - seems to be the one bit of independence he can hold onto, the one way he thinks he’s making your life easier amongst all of this.

The buzzing of a timer startles you out of your trance, and you turn off the tap to go pour yourself a coffee.

You plate the pancakes and chop some berries and fruits to serve alongside them, angling the knife so it doesn’t put too much pressure on your finger. In spite of this, the burn starts to sting once again, the pain sharp and angry. You give up halfway through. Taking the plates in hand, you turn to bring them into your living room.

When you enter the room you see Kishibe already standing. His arms are folded casually across his chest despite the damage he sustained to his shoulder and ribs. He’s pacing slowly, fixated on the wall to your left-hand side – from the looks of it, he’s browsing the books on the shelf behind the couch. He seems to be scanning the titles with interest.

Something’s … different. In a strange way, a sort of déja vu that you can’t quite place.

As he spots you, head turning in your direction, you know from the look on his face what he’s about to offer. You cut him off before he can do so.

“Don’t need any help!” you inform him. “I can carry the plates – you’re supposed to be resting .”

“Not what I was gonna say, smartass,” he huffs in amusement, until his eyes flicker down to your hands and you know he can see how you’re favouring one side over the other, gingerly holding one of the plates so as not to aggravate your burn. He lifts his gaze up, a question written on his face as he regards you. 

Playing ignorant, you choose not to address it. “So what were you gonna say, then?”

He’s not going to drop it entirely, of that you’re certain, but he does concede a little. He straightens his posture, a glint in his eye, and tells you, “I was thinking we could eat at the table tonight?”

His tone is light and ebullient, his demeanour carefree in a way you haven’t seen from him in a long time. He had spent the past two days in what could only be described as a pit of despair, and so to see this change now ... it stops you in your tracks. 

You blink at him. “What?” 

“Can we eat at the table?” he repeats. “Just this once.” 

It seems harmless, but you’re not sure if it’s wise. The instructions from the doctor were for Kishibe to minimise unnecessary movement and stay well-rested.

(He had also been told to try and eliminate stress as much as possible, but the two of you had laughed at the last part.)

Still, you’re not sure if this is a good idea; the last thing you want is to set back his recovery, even at his own request. 

“Please?” he follows up. The word stings you as much as the burn. “I just want to have a meal together like we always do. Just once, and then I’ll go back to bed. And I’ll shut the fuck up from here on - I won’t complain about the bandages or the shitty nutri-shakes or the exercises for my shoulder or whatever it is they want me to do - I won’t say a word about any of it,” he pauses and breathes in, breathes out. “Just a half an hour of being normal. Please.”

Looking at him now, it’s plain to see how being confined and restricted has eaten away at him.

You come to a decision quickly, happy that this won’t do too much harm. If anything, this might help his recovery somewhat. 

“... for half an hour only,” you direct slowly, not breaking eye contact, “and absolutely no unnecessary movement. If you try to pick up the plates or push in chairs or anything, I’ll give you a matching scar on the other cheek.”

“Oh, I assumed as much,” he answers quickly, and millimetre by millimetre, his expression lifts into something that looks a lot more like him – like how he looked when you walked in the room, like how he’s looked at you since you first got partnered up together. Even with the bandages, you can see his lips quirk upwards; the closest thing to a smile as he can manage. “And I agree.”

He lets you carry the plates in without objection, and you eat your meal together in blissful silence. 

It’s been a while since someone other than you has eaten at this table.

By the time you’re halfway through the stack of pancakes, some colour has returned to Kishibe’s complexion. 

"Fuck, these are the best yet,” he says after a particularly big forkful, “which makes me a little confused, because I could hear you swearing for about fifteen minutes while you were making them.”

“Well, I burnt the first couple,” you point out, taking a few orange slices and setting them down on your plate, “which I’m sure you know since the smoke alarm is a rat bastard.”

“That's not all you burnt,” Kishibe remarks as he takes a sip of water. 

You lift your head. “Hmm?”

He sets down his glass and takes your hand, flipping it so your palm is facing upwards. “I saw you holding the plates funny,” he frowns when he spots the welt on the tip of your index finger. “What happened?” 

You can’t help but laugh. Kishibe was nearly eviscerated a few weeks ago, yet he’s here worrying about a burn that will fade in its entirety before the month is out. 

“I burned it on the spatula,” you answer as he strokes circles on your palm with his thumb, “it was my own fault. I wasn’t paying attention.”

His eyes flicker up to yours and you wish you chose your words more carefully.

It was my fault.

Wasn’t paying attention. 

My fault.

In amongst the near-constant worrying about his health and the gratitude at the fact he’s still alive, you can sometimes forget that it wasn’t only Kishibe who got hurt that day.

You open your mouth to say something but with a near-imperceptible shake of his head, he tells you that it’s not necessary.

“Did you put any burn gel on?” he asks then, moving on as if nothing happened. 

You try to take your hand back but he clasps it gently. “No, not yet.”

He raises his eyebrows with mock surprise and you chuckle, letting your head fall back with a groan, predicting what’s coming next.

“Don’t start," you warn him. 

He scoffs. “This coming from the person you gave me a lecture on how to properly care for wounds not two days ago-”

“Okay, okay, I’ll take care of the damn burn-”

“ - and about the importance of recovery and taking proper medical advice - ”

“Fucking hell, I’m doing it!” you exclaim with a laugh, pushing back your chair and letting go of his hand. “Who knew you could whip out the guilt trips like that?”

He shakes his head and shrugs his uninjured shoulder. “Not a guilt trip. Just pointing out the similarities.”

You stand up to leave but before going to the kitchen cabinet to fish out your heavily-used first aid kit, you lean down, tilt his face towards your own and press a soft kiss to his lips. 

“You’re insufferable.”

He kisses you back. “Yeah, but you knew that already.”

---

He looks so … unlike himself. Hooked up to all these different machines, with gauze covering most of his upper body, he could be anyone. 

You thought there’d be some recognition within you, some moment where you see him in the hospital bed and just know it’s him, but you don’t feel anything of the sort. It could be a stranger lying there for all you know. His face is covered, the clothes aren’t his, there are no distinguishing factors at all that make you think that the person in front of you is Kishibe. 

Maybe they were wrong? 

The Division officials might have made a mistake. The scene was chaos; there were so many people running around, so many casualties, it would have been easy for them to misidentify a person in an ambulance, to have shouted the wrong name by accident. 

Maybe this isn’t him. Maybe he’s fine. He could be still at the scene helping to clear up, administering first-aid to the survivors …

But then you spot it – hanging on a coat rack in the corner of the hospital room is his jacket, torn and bloodied but still his. You walk over to it, movements so slow and mindless it’s as if you’re possessed. 

You barely register the low buzzing of the machines. Even when they emit a loud beeping sound every now and then you can’t bring yourself to look at them directly. He’s being kept alive by these machines. 

You stand by the coat rack and reach out a trembling hand. Some dust - no, it’s black, so it’s soot - starts to fall softly to the floor, almost like snow, and it stains your hand as you pull back the fabric to search for something. You rifle through the side pockets looking for it even though you know he never keeps it there, checking every nook and cranny –

There it is. His battered old lighter. It’s in the left-hand breast pocket, as always, but that was the last place you searched.

Your fingertips touch metal, tracing the outline of the lighter as your eyes start to sting. You breathe in through gritted teeth as you slip the lighter out of the pocket, clutching it in your palm as if it’s made of solid gold, and you turn it over to make sure it’s his. 

You make a choked sound that thankfully catches in your throat before it turns into a sob. 

You can’t cry here. The hospital is full of other hunters, milling about to try and find and identify any survivors. You can’t break down in front of them. 

Although personal relationships between two partners aren't banned or even all that rare, displaying such open, raw vulnerability in front of everyone … it would mark you for death. To let other hunters see you weep for Kishibe would mean that, in their eyes, you have become weak, soft, unfit for this line of work. They would never trust you on a mission, and being untrusted while out in the field is a guaranteed death sentence. 

A few tears might be excusable, but you know that the cry you just suppressed would have burst out like a dam breaking. It would have made it very clear that your relationship goes beyond that of coworkers.

It’s funny though, in a way; if they outright asked you just what your relationship actually is , you wouldn’t be able to tell them. You know it’s not casual – not anymore. The pit of agony in your stomach tells you that you’re even farther gone than you’d assumed.

But it’s not defined, either, and likely never can be.

You hear some people shuffle outside the hospital room as the door handle turns. You hastily raise your hand to your face and wipe at some tears that are threatening to spill, slipping Kishibe’s lighter into your own pocket as you do so.

Two nurses stride in and start to record some of the figures displayed on the machines, paying absolutely no attention to you. There’s a single chair in the corner of the room and so you go to sit down before your legs buckle underneath you.

You were warned it was going to be bad, and the hushed voices around you tell you that it can’t be good news. 

When you arrived at the hospital they had asked if he had any family, if you could contact them, that they should really be here for this. They said that if he has any hope of survival, he needs support.

You can only hope that when he wakes, you’ll be enough. 

___

Kishibe is no longer on bed rest, and he is delighted. 

He’s definitely not out of the woods yet - he’s still on a list of meds as long as your arm - and he’s been ordered to only engage in the lowest-of-low impact activities; walking, essentially, and maybe cooking a quick meal or two. Nevertheless, he welcomed the news with open arms. He expected it would bring him a degree of freedom and independence he’d spent the past few weeks yearning for. 

This morning, however, you’re discovering that this may not be the easiest milestone to have reached. Success and improvement aren’t guaranteed and he’s struggling more than he anticipated he would. He gets fatigued easily - walking from the kitchen down the hallway has his muscles aching and his body weak - and everything hurts. The many weeks spent without exertion have taken their toll. 

He’s at the stage in his recovery where the long-term effects of his injuries are starting to make themselves known. It’s too soon to tell for sure, but it looks as though his shoulder might be damaged permanently; as he tries to reach above his head he winces in pain, even more intense than in previous weeks. The resulting hit to his morale is tough to see. 

He tries to put on a brave face, but you can see right through it.

“Looks like you’re finally going to be the stronger one,” he jokes half-heartedly as you support him on his way back to the couch. He’s bearing most of the weight himself, but using your shoulder to keep steady. “Take this as my concession.”

“I was always the stronger one,” you mumble, lowering yourself down to let him sit. 

He collapses onto the couch, face twisted in pain. “ Mentally stronger,” he concedes. “And emotionally, I guess. Better socially, too, if you count having to put up with the brass. But I think I’d have put up a good fight for the title of physically strongest.”

You scoff as you release him. “Even with your best fight, I’d have left with a clean sweep.”

With his good arm, he clutches his chest dramatically as if gravely offended.

“Would lying to you be nice?” you ask fondly, arranging the cushions on the couch so he can sit more comfortably. “I thought you were sick of the sugarcoating?”

Laughing, he drops his arm. “Guess not.”

“Good,” you smile, watching as he settles himself. “I like when you’re agreeable.”

He chuckles again. “Ever thought of being a doctor? You’d be good at it, if you gave up shit-talking your patients.”

“Well, my patients would probably be more reasonable,” you say with a yawn, subtly rolling out an ache in your shoulder from supporting Kishibe up and down the hallway. “I wouldn’t have to shit talk them as much.”

Even in this hypothetical context, it’s funny to think of a world in which you and Kishibe work normal jobs. People become devil hunters for two reasons: revenge or necessity, and sometimes both. But over time, those reasons start to twist and change, becoming stronger or weaker or more obscure, and through the course of their career, hunters often collect new motivations. 

For you now, it’s just that you’re good at what you do - as good as your partner, if not better - and so you rarely let yourself think about what could have been had you chosen differently. It seems pointless. 

“And if you leave, then what would I do?” Kishibe pipes up with a grin. It’s a little strained since you know he’s in considerable pain, but he does look as though he’s entertained by all these impossible scenarios. “When you’re off being a big-shot doctor - can’t really be a hunter then, can I?"

You sit down cross-legged next to the couch, a place you’ve spent countless hours as of late. If you checked, you’d probably find an indentation on the carpet. “Why can’t you be a hunter? They’ll just give you a new partner.”

He makes a noise somewhere between disagreement and disgust. You laugh, feeling a little bemused; you’re far from being his first partner, and he’s not yours, either. You’re not sure where he got this strong distaste towards the idea of working with someone new. It’s bound to happen eventually. 

You take his hand in your own and give it a squeeze.

“Ah, I don’t think I’d want a new partner,” he admits casually. “I think I’m set.”

You arch a brow. “You know you won’t have to sleep with them, right? You can just work with them?” 

“Wait, really?” comes his sarcastic retort, his expression taking on a forced and sudden seriousness. “Holy shit, that changes things. Why didn’t you tell me this before now?”

You release his hand for dramatic effect only for him to stubbornly take it back.

“... you’d really quit if I couldn’t be your partner anymore?” you ask after a moment has passed. The question gnaws at you, allowing your mind to revisit the prospects you had locked away in a box somewhere in its depths. You try to keep your face impassive as you can. 

He nods as though there’s no need for him to even consider it. “Yeah, pretty sure.”

“And do what instead?” 

“I dunno,” he shrugs. “Male modelling?” 

You roll your eyes. “Be serious.”

“Ouch, first of all,” he huffs, only to be met with an amused glance from you, “and secondly – I’m not sure, really. I haven’t thought it through.” Well, that makes two of you, at least. “I just know that it … I know we’re told not to rely on our partners to the point of it becoming self-sacrificial, but the thing is - I think I’m gone past that point. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing. So, I just don’t think I could trust anyone as much as I do you.”

Something’s at the tip of your tongue; something that scares you. 

You don’t say it. Instead, you just enjoy the easy silence, both of you indulging in the frivolous what if’s in your own minds.

The quietness is soon interrupted by the sound of an alarm buzzing in the kitchen

“Time for your meds,” you announce. You get to your feet and ignore your own fatigue.

“The ones that taste like shit?”

You shake your head. “Nah, the little tiny ones you can knock back with water.”

“What a relief,” he sighs, eyes following you as you head out to the kitchen. “Thanks, doc."

___

It’s not always so easy for Kishibe to keep things light-hearted. As the week progresses and his injuries show no signs of improvement, he has taken to napping during the day, more to let the time pass by quicker than anything else.

He seems less willing to do the exercises the doctors assigned him, and the tasks that he once begged you to let him do no longer carry the same appeal. He eats a meal with you at the table, chats for a few minutes, then returns to the living room. Afterwards, he stays quiet unless spoken to. 

You know it has absolutely nothing to do with you. It’s not any form of silent treatment – in fact, you can see how he uses his very limited social battery to chat with you over dinner. His eyes still show fondness when he looks your way. He still kisses the crown of your head when you embrace him. 

He’s just struggling. And you are too.

You’re reading a book - or trying to, at least - as Kishibe sleeps off the morning’s unsuccessful attempts at stretching out his shoulder. Your eyes are unfocused, the page before you blurry. You find yourself thinking of that first morning you woke up next to him.

When you woke up in your bed, rays of sunshine streaming through the curtains, you knew Kishibe was lying by your side. You didn’t even have to roll over to confirm it; you could smell his aftershave.

It’s not that you forgot - neither of you had too much to drink the night before - but it all felt so surreal that part of you thought it was a dream. But you felt so grounded that morning, Kishibe’s arm draped over your waist, and you knew it was all real from the soft sounds of his breathing next to you. 

“You up?” he mumbled, his voice laced with sleep as it often is during your early-morning missions.

“Just about.”

“Will I get breakfast?” he asked as he suppressed a yawn. He made no attempt to move his hand away. 

“I can get it. You paid for the cab,” you replied, not moving away from him either. 

The cab. Last night. The cab you took home from the bar, to sleep with your partner, to make a decision with irreversible consequences.

Though funnily enough, the regret hadn’t hit you yet. You half-expected to wake up in a cold sweat, having come to the realisation that entertaining your feelings for Kishibe was the stupidest mistake you ever made. 

But you didn’t feel anything of the sort. This was … easier than you had expected. It was like a piece of your day-to-day routine you hadn’t realised you were missing.

You rolled out of bed and looked at him, his hair touseled from sleep and a satisfied smile on his face, and it took only that one glance to make you crawl back under the covers and let him take you apart over and over again.

The pattern continued over the following weeks, months. You worked as normal, bickered as you always did, and then went home together most nights. Your dynamic didn’t change all that much, except maybe for the fact that you were a little gentler with each other – not in the field, of course, but in the mornings when you woke up with bloodshot eyes and tired limbs. 

Of course, relationships don’t tend to work on that trajectory; the idea that you can just coexist forever without anything ever changing. Happy as you were, you knew things wouldn’t continue undefined, unexplored. Something would come along to disrupt things. Something big, something you weren’t prepared for – 

Just then, Kishibe stirs. You drop your book to your lap, ready to leap up to assist if needed, but he falls back into a restless sleep after a few moments pass. 

Despite everything, you smile. His morale may have taken a hit but he’s still trying, trying every single day, to get better. That hard work can’t just be for nothing. You’ll both see improvement soon.

You’ve gotten this far together, you think to yourself, and he just might make an optimist out of you yet. 

You thought he fell back asleep, but … 

He says it so softly that he could just be sleep-talking, but the words cut clear through the air, repeating in your mind on a loop until you can no longer think of anything else.

“Love you.”

___

It’s a bad night for Kishibe. 

Yesterday was his first attempt at sharing your bed, a fairly significant milestone in itself, but the pain kept him awake all through the night, tossing and turning until the early hours of the morning. Though you swore that you didn’t mind (and you meant it), he’s returned to the couch this evening and there was no convincing him otherwise. He stayed silent while you tried to argue your case.

However, you weren’t about to let him isolate himself indefinitely or stand idly by as he wallowed in his own imagined failures, and so tonight, you decided to stay with him. 

You’re curled up in an armchair on the other side of the room, wrapped in a blanket and resting your head against the velvet cushion behind you, watching in silence as his face twists in pain to the point it’s almost unrecognisable, clutching his sides as his aching muscles try to heal themselves. 

His breath sounds torn and ragged as it leaves him, but apart from that, he makes no verbal signs of discomfort. You start to worry that he’s holding back for your benefit. 

Obviously, you don’t want to hear the sounds of his suffering, but the idea that he’s trying to act tough or unbreakable or any of that other bullshit you stopped caring about long ago … 

He sucks in a shallow breath and his hands ball into fists, his knuckles turning white as he does so. 

You catch a glimpse of the clock above the window; it’s just after two a.m., which explains why it’s been a few hours since you’ve heard the sound of traffic or footsteps from the street below floating through the cracked window. You rub your tired eyes with the back of your hand. 

Ordinarily, you’d be in bed by now, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. The thought of him being here alone in the dark, sweating bullets as he tries to struggle through the pain … you know you wouldn’t be able to get a wink of sleep. 

Just then, Kishibe makes his first utterance of pain; a low sound that gets caught in his throat, but you still hear it. 

You shrug off the blanket and rise up from your chair, quietly pacing across the room. You sit down on your haunches by the sofa and Kishibe opens his eyes – exhausted, bloodshot eyes that have something of an apology in them. 

He opens his mouth to say something but you just reach your hand out to cup his cheek. Your thumb traces slow, soothing circles and he leans into the touch, almost mesmerised by the movement. You don’t say anything, don’t try to crowd him or lay next to him or get him to talk unnecessarily; your touch alone is enough reassurance. His gaze softens. 

It’s been a week since he told you that he loved you. It’s been six days and twelve hours since you said it back. Neither of you has said it since, but you don’t really need to. This is enough.

The only perceptible sounds in the room are that of the two of you breathing and the tick-tick-ticking of the clock behind you, but you can easily tune that out, choosing instead to focus on how Kishibe’s chest is now rising and falling at a much steadier pace, on how the divot between his brows has fully relaxed. 

Your thumb gently grazes over the reddened skin on his cheek but he feels no pain from it – he told you before that the scar by his jaw is as close to fully healed as he’ll get it. His eyes flutter shut as you keep up your gentle caresses, but you don’t stop. You keep going as if it’s offering some comfort to you as well. 

This started out as a bad night, but it just might turn into one of those rare occasions where Kishibe gets more sleep than you do. 

And you don’t mind at all.

___

Kishibe finishes his first complete set of exercises the following morning.

Two days later and he can walk unsupported, up and down the hallways – it tires him out, but he can do it. He sleeps the full night in your bed afterwards.

He’s more proactive, too, in his recovery. He’ll make an effort to keep to a schedule, which certainly helps to keep him from falling back into that pit of despair. He responds better to feedback from doctors. That familiar glint in his eye returns, as does his sense of humour. He starts to smile more. 

As the days pass, his progress becomes more and more apparent - an exercise here, an independent task there - and it all adds up to a far more encouraging picture than what was painted at the beginning.

It’s not all good news, of course; there are still signs of long-term damage to his shoulder. His range of movement will likely never be the same.

But crucially, his outlook has changed. He no longer carries himself like a burden. 

As a result, you’re sleeping through the night again – it’s easier to wake up in the mornings knowing your day will have a sense of normalcy. 

Though come to think of it … it’s hard to pin down what ‘normalcy’ will even look like from this point on. 

As he continues to improve, you find yourself considering it more and more. Will it involve you going back to work? Or will it be both of you returning to life as Devil Hunters, living life exclusively in the short-term, never planning or aspiring to anything else? 

You doubt that’s even possible. Maybe ‘normal’ isn’t something that is casual, unlabelled. Maybe ‘normal’ isn’t about just hooking up and going your separate ways the next morning. 

Maybe it hasn’t been like that for a while now. 

___

“You take good care of me, y’know?” 

You lift your head, surprised; you thought Kishibe was asleep. It’s midday and he’s stretched out in your bed - he had the last of his stitches from surgery removed yesterday; the new medication makes him drowsy - and the last time you glanced in his direction, his eyes were closed. 

“Whatcha mean?” 

You ask the question through a mouthful of piping-hot vegetable soup, having made yourself a bowl while he napped. Sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed with a book in your other hand, you have the bowl carefully perched on your lap – eating in bed is not a common occurrence at your place, but you don’t like leaving Kishibe unaccompanied while the meds are wearing off. This way, you’re within reaching distance of him should anything happen. 

“Everything okay?” you follow up when you don’t get an answer. 

“Yeah, all okay,” he mumbles, his voice sleepy but still achingly fond. His eyes are still closed, a lazy grin on his face; you have to imagine that it still hurts for him to smile, but he seems to take some novelty in the fact that he can do it at all. “I was just saying: you take good care of me. Really good care.”

You chuckle softly as you take another sip of the broth. All it took was his stitches being removed and the sentimentality just starts pouring out. 

“Is this because of that stuff you were saying last week?” you ask amusedly, recalling his reluctant praise for your first-aid skills and how he said you’d make a great doctor . “About me quitting and getting into medicine?”

“Maybe?” he answers with the lilt of a question. He sounds a little hazy, almost unsure of whether he even knows himself. 

Now properly awake, he starts to sit up in bed, clasping his hands behind his head as his lower back stays supported by pillows – again, likely pushing the boundaries of his comfort, but he seems unperturbed by it. 

Despite the fact that he’s only wearing a t-shirt and that the windows are thrown open to allow some fresh air into the room, his cheeks are flushed pink. His hair is messy, too, the soft black strands pushed back as though he’s run a hand through it. 

He smiles at you as you eat, eyes scanning your face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was trying to commit it to memory. 

It takes a while for realisation seems to dawn on him, for him to figure out what he had initially meant to tell you.

“I just … wanted to tell you you’re great at this,” he says then, with considerably more determination this time. “At all of this. And to say how much I appreciate it. To thank you, as if that’s even enough.”

You lower the spoon from your lips and shoot him a bemused look. 

“You a little stoned off the pain meds, huh?” you tease. “They got you on the good stuff?”

He laughs. “Yep, a bit.”

“Knew it.”

“But I’m still telling the truth,” he continues with a shrug, and he sounds so sure of himself, “pain meds or no pain meds.”

“Always honest to an absolute fault,” you remark quietly, stirring distractedly as he gives you a wry smirk. 

And it’s true.

His honesty wasn’t the easiest thing to get used to at first. Teasing and flirtation aside, when it came down to it, Kishibe could be blunt – to the extent that it caused quite a few spats in the early days of your partnership. 

However, somewhat reluctantly and without any conscious decision on your part, you got used to it over time. It went from aggravating to just annoying to tolerable , and now, you figure that his honesty is more of a virtue than anything else. 

In your line of work especially, you can’t rely on someone who sugarcoats things and builds up a false sense of security. Dependability is everything. You’d rather hear the truth from him than something that could get you killed.

He’s an honest hunter. Part of you wonders if outside of work, he’s picking up some of your bad habits.

You slide off the bed and set your bowl down on the nightstand as his gaze follows you. When you return, you hop up next to him, laying down by his side. He shuffles over to make space and you pull the covers up halfway, staying on your side, propped up on an elbow and resting your chin against your hand. 

Then, you just look at him, taking in the relative peacefulness that he hasn’t been able to enjoy in so long. 

“Okay, in the spirit of honesty,” you begin, smiling to match the expression on his face. “Want to tell me how I’ve been taking good care of you?”

“Fishing for compliments?”

“Oh, always.”

“Well now who’s being honest?”

You raise your eyebrows as a means to challenge him; he relents with a laugh. 

“Fine, fine. Want to hear me sing your praises?” 

You nod instantly and he rolls his eyes without any malice. With a fond shake of his head, he starts to speak. 

“Okay, where to start? I mean, I suppose firstly; you’re here all the time. I like that I can go to sleep at night and then wake up in the mornings, knowing that you’re here.”

You snort at the candour and his straightforward delivery. “Is this your way of telling me to back off? Because I won’t be offended. Too much, anyway.”

Kishibe barks out a laugh. 

“Nah, the opposite, actually,” he corrects you, his eyes twinkling, but then grimaces in pain as he rolls out a kink in his shoulder. You shift over to go and help him, but thankfully, the jolt of discomfort passes as soon as it hits. You return to resting on your elbow but stay a little closer this time. 

“I want you here as much as possible,” he says then, a softness to the words. “So I can take good care of you, too.”

Oh. Huh. You truthfully weren’t expecting that.

You chuckle, unable to think of any other way to respond. Ignoring the heat creeping up your neck, you try not to read too much into it. 

“You do take good care of me — saved me from that pack of fiends back in January, for one. Talked me out of signing a contract with that Devil, for another -” 

He shakes his head by means of interruption, clearly dissatisfied with the angle you’re taking. 

“I don’t just mean work stuff. I mean … I don’t know, doing extra stuff.”

Your brow furrows in confusion.  

“Like more than what partners do?” you ask, genuinely curious. It’s hard to think of anything he could do for you that he hasn’t already done. You share a relationship of equals; you’ve never wanted for anything.

“More than what partners do,” he agrees, tilting his head to the side. “I meant … like what husbands do.” 

Oh.

Oh. 

You blink at him. He blinks back. Neither one of you says anything else. 

An unfamiliar sensation rushes through you like a wave, starting in your chest and spreading up and out to your limbs, and it’s such a strong, visceral feeling that you have no idea how you can’t place it. 

Surely something this intense has a name? 

Kishibe looks far more composed than you feel, far more composed than he arguably should be considering what was just said. 

Other than his light blush and the way his pupils are just a little blown out, he seems unruffled. 

You, on the other hand, are decidedly not . 

Then, before you can even begin to formulate something resembling an answer, he ups the stakes once again. 

“Move in with me,” Kishibe says, phrasing it as a statement rather than a question, and it’s as though a year’s worth of unspoken words are hitting you at once.

In a way, you suppose they are.

Unable to do anything else, you sit up straight, lips parting helplessly while no words come out. 

If Kishibe is concerned by your lack of response, he doesn’t show it. He stays where he’s sitting, patiently awaiting an answer without so much as an anxious fidget.

An answer. 

Your answer.

You search for one desperately, trying to pick just one decipherable thought amongst the thousands rushing through your mind right now …

But before one comes to you, a lightbulb goes off. You don’t have to give an answer – no, you shouldn’t give one, considering that Kishibe’s on medication, recovering from weeks of pain and rehabilitation, and he’s not thinking things through right now. 

Of course, you think to yourself as the waves start to subside, this isn’t an official offer. He’ll forget all about this in the morning. 

Rather than stress him out with complications or details or promises that he may not even be aware he’s making, you decide to give him an out. To give him the opportunity to revisit this another time.  

You twist to the side to look at him, hoping your face doesn’t betray you. He looks back expectantly. 

“Maybe you should get some sleep-”

“I don’t need sleep,” he objects, frowning now. “I’m being serious. This isn’t the drugs talking - well, maybe part of it is, I don’t know … but I’ve been thinking about this for a while.” 

You laugh softly, marvelling at the absurdity of this conversation. “You want me to move in with you?”

He nods. “And, to be completely honest, I want a lot more than that.”

You know it’s a bad idea to push further, but your curiosity wins out. “Like what?”

“I want to marry you,” he answers matter-of-factly, and your heart goes from beating too fast to stopping entirely. “I want to wake up next to you in the mornings. I want to see you before we go to sleep every night. And if we get there and decide it’s something we can do, I want to have babies with you and see them grow up in a house we own together. I want to stay with you every day until we’re old as shit and you really do find me ugly.”

He stops speaking like he’s run out of breath. Similarly, you feel as though you can’t get enough air into your lungs. 

You hadn’t realised that you’d started trembling. 

What he’s saying … it sounds like an indulgence. Something that’s so normal for so many, but so unbelievably idealised in your own mind that you hadn’t even allowed yourself to hope for it.

How can you possibly plan for your lives together when you can only take things week-by-week, grateful for every morning you wake up unscathed?

But now … Kishibe isn’t unscathed. The worst-case scenario actually happened, but instead of running away when faced with the harsh truth of your mortality, you both got through it. You stayed by his side, caring for and comforting him. He, in turn, placed his trust in you, entirely and without hesitation. And you know that things would be the same if the roles were reversed. 

But that doesn’t mean … you’ve never even thought about … how could you begin to take on all of those responsibilities …

Almost as if he’s reading your mind, he elaborates.

“But I don’t mean - I don’t want to force you into a life you don’t want, or anything like that. We don’t need to do it the traditional way. I don’t care about the official papers or the white picket fence or any of that bullshit, and the kids thing is a whole other conversation too, and … shit, I didn’t mean this to pressure you,” he says, and you know he really means it. “It’s just … I don’t know … with everything that’s gone on, I think I’d regret it if I didn’t say it.”

As the words sink in, something inside you clicks into place.

So that’s the feeling you just experienced: true regret.

Regret that you hadn’t said something like this earlier. 

Regret that you’d lived a whole life without even allowing yourself a glimpse at the other possibilities. 

Regret that it took Kishibe nearly dying to get this far, that you had wasted so long pointlessly holding back the inevitable.

But with the regret came a sense of relief as well, relief so great that it feels like a deep breath after being held underwater. Relief that offers your racing mind some much-needed clarity.

You look at him with a smile and his shoulders relax. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

He exhales - you hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath - and nods slowly. “Okay, good,” he says gently. “Is that your answer?”

You shake your head once. “Not quite; I do want you to get some sleep first. I need to be a thousand per cent sure this isn’t influenced by those meds. Then I’ll give the official answer,” you finish, ensuring the words are delivered softly so he knows it isn’t a rejection.

Thankfully, he doesn’t interpret it as one. “Fair enough. Can’t argue there.”

You lean over to kiss him then hop out of bed to let him rest, picking up the bowl to take back to the kitchen. In preparation for his nap, he settles himself in amongst the pillows and blankets, beaming from ear to ear. 

“See you soon, doc.”

You head out, laughing, and just as you’re about to close the door behind you, you call out over your shoulder. 

“If this is going to happen, you need to do some serious work on those godawful pet names.”

___

At some point that night, Kishibe wakes next to you. He’d been in and out of sleep all day and you’d dozed off hours around midnight, but you’re not sure what time it is when your eyes open instinctually at the sound of him stirring. 

The air feels heavy but warm, almost like an embrace. 

“You awake?” he asks softly, but his words are clear and crisp. The medication’s worn off. 

You don’t roll over, don’t shift in place. You stay lying there, staring at the ceiling, feeling your eyes inexplicably prickle with tears.

Happy tears, for once in your life.  

“Mhmm,” you agree softly once you’ve cleared your throat. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s okay.”

The only visibility in the room is from the moonlight trickling through a small opening in the curtains; not enough for you to see his face, but you know he means it from those two words alone. 

It’s time to make good on your promise. 

“You’re really sure?” you ask then. “About what you said, earlier?”

A beat of silence.

“Yeah. I meant it.”

Another moment of pure quiet, slow and sedated, without so much as the sound of a car passing outside. 

You breathe in deeply. 

“Then yes. My answer’s yes.” 

___

It’s difficult to pinpoint the moment at which Kishibe officially moved in. You both agreed that it was better for him to move into your place as opposed to finding somewhere new - he practically lives here already, plus you hate packing - and for lack of an official move-in date, today seems as good as any. Kishibe has finally been given the all-clear: a clean bill of health, with minimal long-term damage. The relief is so profound you could cry. 

And so tonight, you’ll toast his recovery and celebrate the move, celebrate getting to this point together, celebrate the good habits you’ve picked up from each other and the fact that you’re not as terrible at this as you once feared. 

Kishibe doesn’t have much left back at his old apartment, which makes the move-in process short and sweet. This morning he had gone back to hand in his key to the landlord, packed a suitcase with the few belongings that he hadn’t already moved over, and arrived back at your door with a smile on his face and an expensive bottle of whiskey in hand. 

Now, he’s in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Your offers to help him are pointedly ignored. In his words, he wants to start repaying the favour for all you’ve done – you explain that he doesn’t need to repay anything but he’s typically insistent – and, truth be told, it’s nice to sit back with a glass of whiskey while a meal is served to you. 

You enjoy the delicious smells wafting through the kitchen, the sight of Kishibe humming along to one of his vinyls as it spins in the record player on the countertop. You laugh as he tries (and fails) to hit one of the high notes.

He, in turn, appreciates the look on your face when he serves up the dish in front of you. He marvels at your strength, your resilience. He never imagined he’d be grateful for almost dying.

Hours pass with the two of you eating, talking, drinking, acknowledging your mutual ignorance over the course of your partnership - you think back to a time long before his injury when Quanxi mailed a package intended for him to your address, assuming that the two of you were already living together - and you feel your heart swell at how your little apartment is, for the first time, full of laughter and levity. 

After the meal has been enjoyed and the kitchen cleaned spotless by a highly-motivated Kishibe, you retire to the couch for the evening to sit together, not to rest. In a perfect world, that couch will never need to be slept on again. 

As you settle on the couch, you don’t miss how Kishibe’s gaze lingers on you – the later the hour gets, the more heated glances the two of you share. You feel a pleasant heat creep up your neck as his eyes trail downward.

You mindlessly flick through the channels, settling on some shitty murder mystery you have no intention of actually watching. He wraps his arms around you and you lean your head back against his shoulder, draping his arm over your waist. 

You hadn’t realised that the hem of your t-shirt had lifted a couple of inches until a few minutes later when you feel his fingertips graze against the exposed skin by your hip. It’s only the lightest of touches but it feels incendiary . 

Your enthusiastic reaction is understandable since you obviously haven’t been able to share any physical intimacy since his injury. His health, understandably, took priority, but now you’re now far more reactive to his touch after months of going without it. He notices.

Testing the waters, you push back against him and feel him already half-hard against your lower back. 

“I know what you’re doing,” he murmurs softly, his breath hot against the back of your neck. Your laugh is saccharine, playing innocent. 

You missed feeling him like this. You’d gotten so used to this type of intimacy, so familiar with each other’s bodies.  

Bored of the movie you’d barely been pretending to watch, you crane your neck around to press your lips to his jawline, only barely skimming the sensitive skin. He makes a gruff sound of approval that catches in his throat, and before the moment has passed, he has you lifted up and around onto his lap, pulling you in for a heated kiss. 

Wasting no time, apparently.

It hadn’t taken much to get him going, but then again, it has been a while — you can’t fault him for his eagerness when you're just as excited yourself. 

You return his kiss, eager and hungry as his tongue pushes into your mouth. This is far messier than usual – in the past, you’ve taken your time with soft, languid kisses, gentle caresses, but this is different; heated, urgent, as though you physically can’t stand the absence of his touch. 

With immense self-control you pull back, looking with hooded eyes as a thin string of saliva connects your mouth to his.

“Bed,” you choke out, the whisper barely audible as it leaves you, but he responds without question. He helps you up from the couch and grasps your hand firmly as you head down the hallway.

Once the bedroom door closes behind you, he half-guides, half-pulls you onto the bed with him. You don’t even have time to gasp. Within a matter of seconds, he’s lying on his back in the centre of the bed as you hastily move to straddle him, the movements a little unpolished and frenzied but you’re past the point of caring about appearances.

Your lips are so close to his that you share a breath before he pulls you in for another messy kiss. You grind down on his clothed cock and he shudders, grabbing your hips and grinding back, marvelling at the fact that he can finally, finally touch you like this again. 

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve fucking missed this?” he whispers into the shell of your ear, having moved his kiss-swollen lips to nip and suckle at your pulse point until you can feel his mark against it. “Weeks and weeks of having to look without being able to touch,” you tug his shirt up a few inches, mirroring his earlier movements on the couch. You gently drag your nails over his lower stomach, over his hips, running your fingers around the waistband of his pants, “… fucking hell, fuck, I missed this so fucking much …”

You want to hear more. Every word sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps prickling on your skin, and so you push him a little more; “how badly did you want to touch?” 

He laughs disbelievingly, the sound canting up into a sharp gasp when you slip your hand fully into his pants, cupping the bulge in his underwear. “W-well,” another shaky pant, “it’s … shit, it’s most of what I thought about the past month,” a groan this time, “...at least .”

“Mm?”

You lean in to kiss his neck, clouding his thoughts even further. He makes an admirable attempt at continuing; “yeah … spent every night thinking about the thousand different ways I want to touch you,” you nip his earlobe with your teeth, “... lick you, fuck you,” he swallows thickly. “And how could I not?”

You straighten up, giving yourself a moment to catch your breath. “What do you mean?”

His breath is heavy as you start to stroke him through his underwear. You feel a bit mean for making it so hard for him to reply, but his shaky moans and the way his muscles tense as you touch him are too much to resist. 

To his credit, he gives his answer. “How could I not feel that way when I was there on the couch, thinking about you in our bed? Imagining being able to just reach my hand down and make you come on my fingers, imagining how good you’d taste … knowing you were just down the hallway … holy fuck, it nearly killed me.” 

“Nearly killed you, huh?”

He nods, letting out a short laugh. “Part of the reason I insisted on the couch.”

You yelp with surprise as he hauls you further up his body – you remember his strength all too well, but hadn’t expected him to regain most of it so quickly. 

“And you know what I wanted most of all?” he asks once you’ve steadied yourself against his shoulders, pressing a kiss to your forehead before helping you tug off your shirt.  

Once your upper half is bare you shake your head to answer his question, going to open the buttons of his shirt with unsteady hands. You get the top one open, then the second, then the third - 

His grin turns salacious. “For you to sit on my face.” 

That’s enough to shock you into halting your movement. Your whole body heats, anticipation crackling through you. “I - what?” 

His large hands rest against your bare hips before moving up, up, up over your waist and ribs and finally, your breasts, cupping them in his hands and running his thumbs over your peaked nipples.  

“… for you to sit on my face, please ?” 

A giggle slips out in spite of everything. 

Months of not getting to touch like this, and that’s what he wants to do first? You’re not going to object too strongly, but; “I didn’t … I just … don’t you want me to do something for you?”

He smiles again, looking up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, as though he could devour you right now and it would be the best thing that ever happened to him. “This is for me.”

Well, no use in arguing any further. Wordlessly, you shrug off your skirt and underwear, tossing them on the floor as Kishibe’s eyes stay locked at the apex of your thighs. He lays his head back down on the pillow, practically beaming. 

You move to the top of the mattress, using the headboard for leverage as you angle yourself over him, thighs caging his head. Too far gone to feel any self-consciousness about your vulnerable position and how evidently wet you already are, you spread your legs further and slowly lower yourself over his mouth, feeling his breath against your soaking folds. Shaking already, you approach and just about feel him – 

You half-expected him to tease, but he doesn’t; as soon as you’re close enough, he cranes his neck to run his tongue all the way through your entrance, slow and deliberate. 

It’s hot, almost unbearably so, and you can’t help but cry out as your head falls back involuntarily. His movements stay slow and tantalising as he savours the taste of you, eating you out in a way that could almost be described as leisurely . 

Any words of praise you want to give him die a sudden death, caught at the back of your throat as keens and gasps and broken fractions of syllables are the only sounds that escape – you can only hope they are sufficient in getting your point across. 

They do. He groans his approval, spreading you open with his thumbs, marvelling as your thighs start to tremble with every motion he makes. Your fingers hurt from how tightly you’re gripping the headboard.

Your back arches, desperate to seek more of the sensation that’s sending sparks through your entire body, but he’s careful and methodical in the way he takes you apart. He takes his time, sucking your throbbing clit into his mouth and applying just enough pressure that the build is steady but aching. You start to rock back and forth against the wet heat, trying to resist the urge to ride his face.

He suddenly pulls his mouth away and you almost weep at the loss of contact.

“You don’t have to be careful with me, y’know,” he points out, the lower half of his face drenched already, “I’ve got a full bill of health, so please don’t hold back on my account.”

“Yeah?” you ask breathlessly, and your clit gives an answering throb when he presses a closed-mouth kiss to it. 

“I wanna see you squirm on top of me,” he answers, low and heated now, and so you do what’s asked of you. 

Sinking back down on him, you start to writhe as his tongue presses flat against your folds, dragging up to circle the bundle of nerves, focusing solely on getting you as close to the edge as possible.

It goes from feeling too careful to too much . Too intense. It feels like a hot ball of fire building in your core, with every probe of Kishibe’s tongue stoking the flames. 

Then, just as easily as breathing, it goes from too much to just perfect. 

You weren’t expecting the feeling of his stubble against your thighs at this angle to be so uniquely pleasant. It stings a little as you rise and fall, yes, but it adds a whole new sensation that makes you keen almost pathetically, desperate for everything he’s giving you. Every lick against your slick flesh makes you throb, your swollen clit grateful for the friction. 

You sink your fingers into his soft hair. “More, fuck, please. I need more.”

He uses his hands to gently push your lower back, prompting you to bend and change the angle which makes his nose graze against your clit. You feel one, then two fingers slip inside you and work you open, the pressure building in your core as your body desperately chases release, moving in whatever way necessary in order to get it. 

Just as you feel yourself approach the edge, you distantly hear Kishibe mumble something between your thighs. As good as the vibrations feel, you raise yourself up to hear him speak.

“Can you - can you -” he mumbles, the words slurring. 

“Hmm?” you ask, a little cruelly, running a hand through his hair and admiring the view beneath you. 

“Ride me?” he asks. “Please, please fucking ride me … I know it’s not suave or cool to beg, but please, I need to know what you feel like around me. Fuck, I missed it so much.”

You don’t answer with words, instead moving down his body until you’ve reached his thighs. You straddle them, and when you pull him in for another heated kiss. you can taste yourself on his mouth. He moans into it, thrusting his hips up between your spread thighs, and you decide he’s wearing far too many clothes. 

You unbutton his pants with one hand, keeping the other at the back of his neck as you deepen the kiss. He opens his mouth and gasps into the kiss as you take him out of his underwear, his cock so hard it seems almost painful as it bobs against his stomach. He shudders when you slip your hand from his neck down his torso, index finger tracing his chest before you take him in your hand, giving his shaft a few lazy pumps to tease him.

“Please?” he asks once more, pupils blown out with desire, and you don’t feel like denying him (or yourself) for much longer.

You position your hips until they’re seated above his, your fingers still loosely wrapped around his cock which twitches against your touch, and you only let go of it to brace yourself on his shoulders.

You circle your hips so the head of his cock rubs against your slit; when it catches against your clit you let out a shocked mewl.

He smiles up at you. You smile back, and then you sink down onto him.

“Oh fu-u-uck,” he groans with every inch that slips inside, struggling to keep from bucking up into the heat enveloping him. “How … how do you feel even fucking better than I remembered?”

You feel the stretch even though you’re soaked, but it’s not unpleasant given how well he prepared you. 

He lets you set the pace as you ride him, pulling yourself up until he’s almost slipping out before sinking back down to the hilt, your slick walls coating his cock. 

For you, too, it feels better than you remembered. Even though you’re arguably more desperate, more fervent tonight than you have been before, time seems to move slower. It no longer feels as though these are just stolen moments that you need to savour before they’re gone forever.

This feels nothing like that – this feels wonderful, unending. 

You quicken the pace as his hips start to buck up into yours. He seems as though he’s resisting the urge to start erratically thrusting up into you, rutting into the heat that’s enveloping him so perfectly. He bites his lower lip hard. 

“Can’t believe … fuck …” he whispers, looking up at you with something that can only be described as pure reverence. “... can’t believe I get to have this. Get to have you.”

With that, all measure of self-control is out the window; you speed up your motions and he fucks into you desperately, hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure you’ll still feel it tomorrow. Every cell in your body seems to burn hot as you lose yourself in the sensation. 

“S-so good, so, so good …”

When his thrusts turn sloppy and his words start to slur, you know he’s approaching his peak. 

It’s close, you can tell it’s close …

However, you reach yours first; the orgasm hit you out of nowhere, the usual build-up lost to the overwhelming sensation. Your vision goes white as you throw your head back, crying out his name over and over again until it echoes in your ears. Unending pleasure wracks your body and happily, you let it. 

All it took was that sight – you, repeating his name like a prayer as you come undone above him – and he’s spilling inside you with a low groan. 

You hear your own name falling repeatedly from his lips as he thrusts as deep as he can, ignoring the aftershocks that start when you keep pulsing around him. He’s so beautiful like this it nearly hurts you. 

Exhausted, your upper body collapses against his chest and he wraps his arms around you, pressing your sweat-damp foreheads together as he gives a few more shallow thrusts. 

He doesn’t pull out for a little while longer, and when he finally does, he keeps you tucked against him in a tender embrace, filling the room with words of praise. 

How wonderful you are, how perfect. How loved. 

The two of you have all the time in the world, and you’re more than content to spend it this way. 

___

When you wake up the next morning, you immediately notice that Kishibe isn’t in bed next to you. Your heart sinks as you roll over – his side of the bed is still warm so he can’t have gone too far, but you didn’t even hear him leave. 

You sit up with a start. 

Was this too much? Is he panicking? Is the reality too different from the fantasy you both had come up with?

But before your worries escalate to something more, you pick up some soft sounds coming from the kitchen; pots and pans clanging gently, as if someone’s trying to use them as quietly as possible without waking you. 

The faint scent of coffee hits you then, wafting through the gap in the door, along with an aroma you’ve become very familiar with over the past while.

Pancakes.

You let out a short, relieved chuckle. It’s second nature for you to expect the worst and it will take a lot of unlearning, but you figure that there’s no better person to experience that with than your partner.

You yawn as you slide out of bed - you didn’t get much sleep last night, after all - before shrugging on a robe and padding down the hall. 

“Really leaning into the domesticity, are we?” you call out as you enter the kitchen, spotting Kishibe by the stove with a frying pan in hand. True to form, he has two mugs of coffee ready and holds one out to you as you approach – you accept it with a grateful squeeze of his hand, lifting the cup to your lips and savouring the bittersweet taste. It doesn’t go unnoticed that he picked your favourite mug.

“Indulge me?” he asks as he flips a pancake, taking a sip of his own brew, and you make a sound of agreement. 

“Never said it was a bad thing,” you add with a smile, blowing softly to cool down the drink before taking a seat at the little table in the corner. He has it set for breakfast - a cup of sugar, a little jug of milk, some sliced fruits are laid out in front of you, along with cutlery and plates - and he even has the newspaper folded on the table despite neither one of you ever reading it.

To say that it’s endearing is an understatement; you’ve earned one or two clichés of domestic life. 

He joins you once the pancakes are finished - “ how the hell did you manage to not burn a single one?” - and pulls his chair closer to yours. He glances at you when you take the first bite, almost self-conscious in the way he watches you eat, looking relieved when you hum your approval.

“So,” he begins, after taking a bite of his own. “Think you’ll be going to work on Monday?”

Though his tone is conversational, you know the question is loaded. It’s not accusatory in the slightest - you know he will respect whatever decision you arrive at as long as you come home to him afterwards - but he just needs to know, to prepare for whatever course you both choose to take. 

You think for a moment. You assume, based on the trajectory this conversation has taken, that you’ll need to look at other prospects. You’re not sure if you’ll quit outright – if that’s even possible – but you think it might be time for an extended hiatus in the devil-hunting department. 

The Division would have no hesitation in replacing you should you get injured or be killed in action – they can cope without you for a few months. Or longer. 

“I think I’ll call in sick,” you reply in between sips of coffee. 

“Really?” he queries with a grin, turning to face you – you can’t help but match it. “‘Cos I think I will too.”

You nod confidently, feeling your heart swell in your chest.

“Sounds like a plan.”

[madamechrissy]

Fic Author QnA

What is your most popular fic? - On A03 it's Time After Time w/666 kudos. Here on Tumblr, Silent Serenades (gojo/nanami love triangle) seems to be super popular so far!

What fanfic do you wish you got more response on? - I wish Up In The Air got more responses, it's one of my favorite love stories I've written and my only Geto fic. But the people who do read it love it and that's what matters. Is Gojo just more popular I wonder?

What’s a fic idea that you have but haven’t written yet? - I really wanna write a medical/doctor AU but I'm a little nervous to do so!

Do you prefer writing multi-chapter or one shot fanfictions? - Absolutely multi chapter fics on A03, on here one shots seem to be a little more popular. I feel multi chaps are my preference but one shots keep stuff interesting!

What rating do most of your fics fall under? - All of em Explicit I'm a hoe 😭🤣

Have you written any fanfictions featuring OCs? If so, elaborate! - I feel like Fractured Desires and Silent Serenades are kind of OCs bc their back story and descriptions are so strong. But I prefer second person (you/your)

What’s a troupe you love to write?- I love idiots to lovers lol! And I'm really enjoying enemies to lovers rn.

What kind of document do you use to you write? Microsoft Word? Google Docs? Straight in the AO3 text box?- Aha Google Docs all day

What’s your favorite line(s) or scene(s) that you have written? - My favorite scene is in Silent Serenades where the reader keeps saying ‘perfect. Composed.’ its in part two. Her descending into madness there gives me chills. I loved writing it.

What are your top five fics by kudos or by reads -

Time After Time- 33k hits -666 kudos

Dirty Little Secret- 22k hits- 614 Kudos

Take Me Home Tonight- 19k hits- 544 Kudos

But It's Better if You Do- 17k hits- 391 Kudos

Fractured Desires - 11k hits- 358 Kudos

How many words do you have on AO3 (if you use that platform)- 925,815 holy shit lol

Do you respond to comments, why or why not? - All the time, I love to talk lol and I appreciate people's time

Have you ever received hate on a fic? - Yeesss. Silent Serenades ppl have trashed my reader, and Time after Time gets hate for Gojo being a dick lol.

Are there words, phrases, mannerisms or scenes you tend to use a lot? - The word Fuck is so overused for me I'm sorry😭🤣 Brushing back hair and blushing overused too, or lips parted. lol

How long is your longest fic?- So far, Take me Home Tonight at - 122k words ongoing

Are there any writers and/of stories that you consider an influence? - my favorite book of all time is Gone with the Wind. Controversial I know but moreso I love that Scarlett is NOT perfect and fucks up. My readers are never perfect bc no one is and reading perfect Characters is boring 

For the readers: send in your favorite fanfic, scene, title, phrase, etc. by the person who posted this! (I'd love to see your faves of mine in the inbox plz 🙏)

[rottenbrainstuff]

Don't you guys love it when I unearth the most random unrelated niche bullshit and then ramble about it incoherently for you all to read?

The latest thing giving me the dopamine hit atm is a silly otome game called Love & Deepspace, details of which mercifully hidden for you below the cut:

A friend of a friend recommended this game to me and it's turning out to be surprisingly fun. I'm impressed by how little content is paywalled or monetized. Like, I wouldn't mind dropping a little money on the game cause I'm enjoying it, and I HAVE spent a couple bucks here and there on items, but it doesn't really give you a huge advantage in the long term over someone who is playing it for free and that’s kind of surprising. (My god though this game is fucking chonky. If it keeps needing to download stuff I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to play….)

Unlike some other otome games where you have very clear relationship paths with the focus on one single person, here you develop relationships with everyone sort of all at once. I know some people like that, but I personally don't prefer it - it seems even in video games I am too monogamous to have multiple boyfriends at once. I started out focusing on Zayne, cause the older and more serious kuudere character is the one I tend to like in the silly games like this, but then Sylus popped up and now I have abandoned Zayne, I'm so sorry babe, it’s not you, it’s me.

Sylus is very much giving me vibes that the devs all had a design meeting and said "oh the girlies really fucking like Astarion from BG3 right now, why don't we make a copy of that, we could make him the tsundere criminal antagonist character or something?" One of the audio stories has the MC teasing him about looking/acting like a vampire and that's so funny, the devs absolutely knew what they were doing. Hilariously, one of the Sylus-specific custom titles you can win is a nickname I used to have back in the dinosaur days when I was in college, and I find that endlessly amusing. I like how he complains you're in the way if you get too close to enemies in combat - I will choose to interpret this as protectiveness, and it suits me just fine anyways cause I can't fucking dodge properly, and prefer to shoot shit from a distance.

Sorrrrry but I find the english audio way too cringe (particularly Sylus' VA?... sorry) so I have been playing it with the japanese audio. (because I understand a little japanese, and perhaps because I want to shame myself for not practicing at all in the last couple years) I'm sure the japanese audio is no less cringey to native japanese speakers, but the point is that *I* cannot tell. And you see, it increases my vocabulary of useless words I will never need to use - for instance this week I learned the word for "gun". I also like to note the translation choices where the audio and the subtitles don't match up, I find it interesting, like little easter eggs. In this case my understanding is the game was released in Chinese first, so instead of comparing a translation to an original, I am comparing one translation to another translation, but I still find it amusing. (Pie the fox is called “six dumplings” in Japanese)

I enjoy the little details... Sylus is very good at the card game and I can almost never win, Zayne is ridiculously easy to bully into swapping cards and I almost never lose. Sylus sucks at the crane game to the point where it's ridiculous (or maybe I just have bad luck???) but Zayne cheats and uses ice and wins a lot - myeh I dunno. It's cute, I'm easy to please, it's making my brain happy.

The fine details of the story are a bit incomprehensible and the interface takes a little getting used to. I do appreciate all the moving parts here, the story and the collectible content and the combat and everything, but it's a little bit humorous how all the bits don't overlap tidily, for instance I am getting event-related texts that are giving away spoilers for things I haven't learned in the main story yet. And Sylus' separate chapters popped up I think after I finished the ... second main story chapter? And it begins with mentions of a serious disaster that happens in the main story that I hadn't read about yet. It's funny though, just funny. I just got access to protocores and now everything is a million times more complicated. I have no idea why dumb shit like this releases the dopamine in my brain but whatevs. I dunno. If you found this post through a tag search feel free to jabber at me about this game, these little niche things I find, I have so few people I can talk about them with. Every once in a while I will holler my thoughts out into the void here. Blah blah blah. Etc.

[hearthotchner]

hi hi I’m just here to offer some autistic!hotch thoughts

- he speaks with little to no inflection in his tone

- he’s known to always have a frown on his face or ‘never smile’ because he doesn’t mask and put a fake smile on to appease others.

- whenever he cries he tends to try to run away from the group, not knowing how to socially act when he’s so upset.

- he’ll often appear as ‘happy to sit in comfortable silence’ instead of making small talk.

- he compartmentalises to the point where almost every time on the show you *do* see hotch have a good time or smile, the case is already closed. he hyperfocuses on the cases and will feel in anyone else who’s going off topic.

- he is a great profiler. he probably knows more than he lets on about his team, but he’s overly respectful of the ‘do not profile one another’ rule because a) rules are very sacred to him and b) he tries not to make assumptions about his friends they could perceive negatively unless they have verbally told him, e.g. will revealing JJ’s pregnancy. In this scene, hotch looks crestfallen and says “jj you could have just told me.” because he likely saw her showing signs but he much prefers the security of someone verbally informing him.

- he literally wears a suit like armour every day on the job. No matter how impractical it is, if it’s hot or humid or he’s got to chase unsubs in fucking dress shoes? he still wears it because it makes him feel safe and likely meets his sensory requirements. his clothes become who he is.

- also the way hotch switches roles from boss to friend to comforting presence is so pronounced. his voice, facial expressions and his mannerisms all change.

- speaking of mannerisms!!!! Hotch stims a bit on the show. his little action he does rubbing his thumb across his other knuckles either in front of his face or down by his side. but often when je does this from anxiety, he ends up burying his hands in his pockets. Seemingly hiding it.

- he literally worked himself to exhaustion, and mid-fainting said ‘please excuse me’ because so much of his social skills toolbelt is being polite. on the show, however, he sometimes seems impolite when he’ll get an idea in his head and just chase after it without a word.

You can check out way more under @softhairedhotch ‘s blog where he does lots of headcanons including some autistic!hotch ones. I’m sure I’ve missed a lot of reasons but just watching him as an autistic person, he feels so very real to me.

first of all, thank you so much for taking your time to tell me this!! and yeah i also agree, but it never came to my attention because i never saw people speak about it, because ig the way he acts isn’t exactly the “mainstream” representation of autism that’s all over social media yk. and i think that should change tbh, cause like it’s a spectrum, and there’s different ways that autism is portrayed, and it isn’t always gonna be “omg this absolute genius” sometimes it’s people like hotch 🤷‍♀️ or like reid, or another character that’s completely different to them too.

and i’m definitely gonna look at his account, cause now im an autistic hotch truther 😼

[saintsenara]

I don't know if you are still doing the ship game. What do you think about Drarry? I apologise if you have already answered it- I tried to see if someone else has asked but I may have missed your response. It's a very popular ship and there are lots of well written fics by incredibly talented authors that I have enjoyed. But when I take that aside and look at the pairing just on its own, I struggle to articulate my thoughts on what I actually think about the pairing.

thank you for the ask @sarafina-sincerity!

i do read drarry, but i think it's probably fair to say that i don't read drarry because i expect it to make sense.

i like it fluffy and stupid, to be enjoyed after a hard day at work when i want something which is crammed full of fuck-buddies-to-oh-wait-this-is-serious tropes which doesn't require too much effort to engage with.

and so the fics i tend to read aren't drarry which really grapples with exactly how difficult it can be to make harry and draco work as a stable couple while still feeling true to their canon characters.

[they're not fics which dive into how they would be as an unstable couple either, which is - frankly - because i prefer to see harry in toxic messes with other people.]

i like a bit of of out-of-character nonsense - i love to tune into a fic in which draco is assertive and witty and sophisticated [even though in the books he's an insecure little bitch whose jokes always flop] and harry is passive, preternaturally adoring, and speaks like a therapist [even though in the books he's a reckless feral cat with the emotional awareness of cardboard], or ron and hermione come around to it really quickly. i think they're fun!

but arguing that drarry could make sense as a happy relationship when the characters are as they are in canon is difficult. indeed - with my apologies to drarry-is-canon nation - i think that it's even more difficult than making many of the completely implausible-sounding harry-centric pairings work [and, indeed, draco-centric pairings, taco nation rise up]. and i think it's worth dissecting why.

the first reason is that, much as umbridge is often the villain that readers have the most visceral reaction to [and much as the thing about snape which seems to most upset readers is that he's a horrible teacher], the fact that draco is just some guy at school actually makes the pairing harder. unlike something like snarry - in which a semi-mystical connection between the two is set up by the narrative - or tomarry - in which an overtly mystical connection is - drarry is just two lads who don’t really get on.

indeed, despite a tendency to explain their vibe in the books as sexual tension, harry gives no indication of particularly caring about draco as a person while they're at school. he thinks he’s annoying, pretentious, rude, and cowardly, but - outside of half-blood prince - he's not ever actually shown to escalate those feelings into being particularly obsessed with him. harry doesn't watch draco constantly, or follow him around, or devote a huge amount of time to thinking about him when they're not together for reasons which aren't directly connected to his perception of draco as a bigot whom he loathes. the reason why he remembers so many details about him is because he wants to see him and his father punished, not because he finds him compelling.

even in half-blood prince, harry's obsession with draco is broadly external to the man himself - it's rooted in his attempts to block out his grief over sirius, his anger at the death eaters who killed his godfather [lucius malfoy among them], his suspicion of snape, and the things he's learning about tom riddle.

draco, though, is obsessed with him. harry spends seven years living rent free in his head: he tracks his movements, he can barely make it through the day without seeking him out to try and get some attention from him, and he clearly talks about him all the time [he needs no prompting from "crabbe" and "goyle" to bring him up during the polyjuice scene in chamber of secrets, for example].

he also obviously has some level of respect for harry - he acknowledges, even if it's through complaining to his father, that he's a good quidditch player, for instance - and, by the end of the series, he clearly does regard harry as brave. whereas, when it comes to more positive emotions, harry pities draco, but he never seems to like or admire him.

[and it's striking that - since i see a lot the idea that drarry is more plausible than hinny as a pairing - harry takes exactly the same view of draco's relationship to voldemort as he does to ginny's. he regards draco as someone who should be protected from voldemort, but doesn't regard him as someone who could fight back or who should be acknowledged as talented in his own right. despite the fact that, for example, he knows draco's a competent occlumens.]

as a result, i always prefer drarry in which draco is the more feral one, but the default dynamic seems to have harry chasing him, rather than the other way round. i would also like to see more authors work with how likely draco would be to put up for long with having such an obvious interest in a man who is likely to be paternalistic towards him in return

[and also a man who's quite likely to expect to become his partner's priority, rather than the other way round. one issue with a lot of harry’s relationships, whether his canonical one with ginny or a fanon alternative, is that the role he occupies in the story means that he tends to relate to people he knows not as equals but either as people he needs to protect or people he needs to protect others from. in a relationship with draco, he is likely to pivot from the latter to the former, and i can't imagine that draco - who thinks of himself as a protector as well, especially in his relationship with his mother - is going to particularly enjoy this. this is why i like middle-aged, have had decades to calm down, widowed or divorced drarry - it feels like it has more chance of being equal than the school-age or immediately post-war stuff.]

harry's indifference-bordering-on-dislike towards draco does stand in contrast to how he thinks about other male characters that he's frequently paired with. to return to snarry and tomarry, harry is shown to admire snape at numerous points prior to the end of half-blood prince, his interest in the prince's textbook reveals that he and snape have a shared intellectual compatibility, and - above all - harry understands and empathises with snape's background and experiences. similarly, harry is shown to admire voldemort at numerous points, the narrative sets them up as being very similar, and - above all - harry understands and empathises with voldemort's background and experiences.

[harry is also obviously physically attracted to tom riddle, while draco isn't - although this is, of course, not an insurmountable issue - obviously his type. the men harry finds attractive in canon are all tall, thin, and dark-haired, and draco is always described by the narrative in terms which suggest that harry thinks he's ugly (the frequent description of him as "sleek" or "gleaming" is an insult in context). the same is true for lucius malfoy.]

i think that one explanation for the above is that a lack of shared background is one of the major stumbling blocks to drarry which doesn't exist in the other two pairings.

i love an auror partners trope-fic as much as any other girl, but - in reality - draco never needs to work and never gives the impression of being career-minded or finding career ambition valuable. harry is certainly rich enough not to need to work - and the fact that he has a pureblood name and resembles his pureblood father gives him an amount of class protection in the wizarding world which means that drarry is nowhere near as socially unequal as something like dramione - but he evidently finds the idea of working valuable, not least because he wants to achieve recognition for something other than being the boy-who-lived.

but draco - who likes being thought special on the basis of unearned things like his family name - would struggle to understand this. and, in return, harry would struggle to understand how draco's adult life - something i suspect he would see as one of tedious luxury - is driven by a sense of conformist duty to his family and his peers. after all, harry believes in the value of found family and earned loyalty, and loathes any expectation that he should be deferential to people just because of who they are.

of course, i don't think this would prevent them being together. it would just cause a tension which would either see everything crash and burn [hot] or which would require growth from both characters which takes a certain lightness of touch to pull off. there are lots of drarry authors who do one or both of these in their works, of course. but those authors are very rarely trying to portray harry and draco as [to begin with, at least] a good or healthy couple…

but with this said, i also think that some common criticisms of drarry wouldn't actually be a big deal to either harry or draco.

the most significant of these is the fact that harry is morally righteous - yes - but this manifests itself in an expectation of loyalty from other people, but not an expectation of purity.

in post-war drarry, i think it's entirely reasonable to say that harry's belief that the malfoys turned against voldemort because of loyalty to each other [something he finds valuable, and clearly considers to be the appropriate way for a family unit to behave - look at what he thinks of percy weasley, for example], as well as lucius malfoy's extra-canonical willingness to help harry and the ministry by informing on all his former associates [which, according to jkr, results in him being spared azkaban and harry thinking that's fine] enables him to let go of draco's past, and to have a relationship without the weight of that history hanging over them. i don't think he ever becomes fond of lucius - although i think he is likely to feel slightly more warmth towards narcissa - but i also don't think he would expect draco to estrange himself from his family or completely change as a person in order to consider him worthy of his affection.

[this is, for what it's worth, something which makes dramione much more implausible for me - even if draco is capable of redemption (which, like everyone, he is), i don't think she's ever forgiving him or considering him changed enough to be worthy of her, and i don't think she should have to.]

draco may not, however, consider this acceptance to be as much of a gift as harry might - above all because i believe sincerely that harry would never feel bad about the sectumsempra incident. draco is clearly someone who holds grudges, and i think that this would always be in quite profound tension with harry's remarkable [but also entirely self-interested] ability to decide he's going to let things go.

i also think that harry is going to be able to handle draco's more negative characteristics better than he’s sometimes given credit for, since all of them - especially his tendency towards jealousy, self-aggrandisement, and moping - are things he shares with ron. and, like ron, i think draco is going to be surprisingly good at dealing with harry's impulsivity, his tendency to brood, and tendency to form knee-jerk judgements. these seemingly opposing personality traits are actually quite nicely balanced.

and, of course, the big one: love is strange and unpredictable; forgiveness can be easy just as often as it can be difficult; everyone is capable of redemption; people can choose to be together despite significant odds against them; choice is much more interesting than fate; and fluffy drarry is unbelievably entertaining.

my final statement, though? people are sleeping on dron. ron and draco have all the right ingredients - above all, the fact that they're narrative mirrors - which makes things like snack bang. the potential for drama and intrigue and destabilising love is right there. harry simply cannot compete.

[self-loving-vampire]

Reasons why I didn't expect I'd like I'm in Love with the Villainess that much:

1- Biased against isekai for reasons explained in depth elsewhere. Summary is that they often put wish fulfilment above storytelling and fail to evoke a sense of wonder in their hyper-familiar gamified settings.

2- What I had seen through osmosis by that point made it seem like it was very much comedy-focused throughout. I tend to prefer more serious and fucked up stories with higher stakes.

3- I have both very high and very specific standards for romance. Most of it doesn't really appeal to me and the main one in this series didn't seem like it would do it for me. Even now that I'm caught up with the manga I'm unsure if I'll end up liking that particular aspect, especially since I personally dislike tsunderes.

Reasons why I did actually end up liking it after getting caught up with the manga:

1- While the protagonist does get away with a lot due to being an isekai protagonist and there's even some bits that raise a lot of questions it ends up being much more moderate about it than other isekai. There's hints that Rei's knowledge might cause many difficulties for her in the future, and there's events she doesn't know about as well. She's not even the most powerful mage in the setting either.

2- The comedy becomes more secondary after the initial chapters and there seems to be a believable risk that Rei's relationship will be destroyed by either the upcoming commoner revolution or (if they manage to side with the revolution) reactionary violence from the nobles. Claire's later character development puts her in danger from the upper classes while her noble status puts her in danger from the lower classes, and she can't really choose a side without risking violence from the other.

3- Rei's comments that Claire "saved" her combined with the extent of her devotion plus other bits of evidence suggest that their romance could be closer to the type that I like than it seemed but the specific circumstances involved are still not known to me. I'm hoping that there's more to it than Rei just being a masochist who likes morally purifying mean rich tsunderes, and it looks as if that may be the case.

Still, at this point I'm more invested in the relationship because I like Rei, not so much the relationship itself yet.