#and the person dies under his hands it really does just

[linkspooky]

How to write the perfect revenge story with Kohaku-Sensei! What Tsukihime does better than Avatar the Last Airbender.

So a follower asked me why Kohaku was my favorite of the Tsukhime girls after I made an offhand comment on my Ciel/Noel post on how Kohaku is the perfect take on revenge. Both Noel and Kohaku's story arcs are near perfect revenge tragedies that make their characters the standouts in Tsukihime. I tried writing up just why I thought Kohaku's character was good but it kept turning into a carbon copy of this post by comun right here. Eventually I decided to dig deeper.

Why does Kohaku's revenge story work so well? Why does every other revenge story suck so hard in comparison? See the thing is I hate a lot of revenge stories in fiction because they are very shallow, black and white tales of the good guy giving the bad guy everything he deserves.

In other words, I'm disappointed by most omdern revenge stories because they display a critical lack of understanding of how cycles of abuse start in the first place, and how both sides on the conflict no matter what are equally human. Perhaps that's why Kinoko Nasu writes revenge so well, because he's a deeply humanist author who's not really focused on good guys or bad guys but rather just understanding the characters involved.

So to show just how well Tsukihime humanizes Kohaku as both victim and villain of the story, I'm going to compare it to one of the worst revenge stories I've read in fiction. Both of these stories are tragedies that kill their main character, a victim who just wanted revenge for the long abuses they'd suffered in life. However, one of these is Tsukihime, and the other one sucks. So without further ado under the cut.

ORESTES THE FIRST REVENGE STORY

So Yun is a character from a spinoff novel prequel of Avatar the Last Aribender, focusing on the life of Avatar Kyoshi. In a lot of ways Yun is like Noel. He's a completely new character, thrown into the backstory of an already established character. He also steals the show because he's allowed to be a lot more flawed and act as a villainous foil to the main character, Yun even acts as a Jungian shadow the second novel is literally called the shadow of Kyoshi.

However, there's one major difference Noel's character greatly enhances Ciel's even if she is fridged for Ciel's character development. Whereas Yun's character and the eventual ending the story gave him ruined any kind of enjoyment I could have had from the story for Kyoshi's character. In fact, I think Yun's death made the whole story fall apart thematically.

Which is ironic because it was the exact same ending. Noel's character ends with her dying by Ciel's hands. Kyoshi kills Yun with her own two hands in order to stop his revenge. In both stories the victim dies so why does one frustrate me to no end and the other ending elevates Tsukihime to one of my favorite pieces of fiction?

The devil is in the details.

Revenge stories are by their nature tragedies. It makes sense for them to, for the most part with a few hopeful exceptions have bad endings. Taking personal revenge against every single person who's hurt you grievously no matter how deserved that revenge might be does not solve the problem. In fact it creates several new problems.

This is pretty well explored tragedy in fiction, all the way back to The Oresteia. Orestes is the son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra. If you know anything about the trojan war you should recognize those names.

The story begins like this, King Agamemnon of Mycenae offends the goddess Artemis by killing one of her stags. So, in retaliation she prevents the greek troops from reaching troy by taking the wind out of their sails, unless Agamemmnon kills his oldest daughter Iphigenia. Agammemnon drags his daughter away from his wife Clytemnestra who was crying and begging him not to and offers her as human sacrifice. Ten years later when Agamemnon returns home he finds his wife sleeping with another man, and the two of them together butcher him to avenge iphigenia.

Then in order to avenge her father's death, elektra urges her brother Orestes to kill their mother and the man she committed adultery with. Orestes eventually goes through with it out of duty to his father, but because he's committed the clan of kin slaying the gods send the furies after him to chase him down and torment him.

The revenge just continues to cycle. Orestes doesn't right a wrong by avenging his father's murderer, he just commits kin slaying a taboo among the gods. Even though he felt he had an obligation too because he couldn't let his father's murderer live, the gods don't let him live in peace. Orestes would have been chased by the Furies for the rest of his life if Athena didn't intervene and basically hold the first court case in order to rule if it was really just to punish Orestes like this.

The point of my long foray into greek mythology is that no matter how entitled each person in the revenge cycle might have felt to their revenge, in the end they were committing a horrible act. Clytemnestra was avenging her daughter against the man who killed him, but she alienated her other two children. Orestes was duty bound to avenge his father, but he still killed his own mother with his two hands. At each link in the chain there's no real innocent parties, and the moment you take revenge you become a perpetrator in this cycle of abuse as well.

That is I think a central concept that the greeks understood but many modern authors fail to grasp, that revenge is a cycle during which any time a person can become a victim of it, and also a perpetrator of it. It's not a matter of internal goodness or badness but rather an uncontrollable cycle of violence that people get caught up in.

What revenge stories should be about is escaping the cycle. When the character manages to escape like Orestes and live for something other than revenge that's a happy ending, but when the character fails to escape that's a tragedy. Whether or not a character actually accomplishes their revenge is a footnote.

The Count of Monte Cristo accomplishes most of his revenge but the act of revenge isn't what saves him, but rather the faithful love of Haydee who had always been by his side and the words "wait and hope." The Count isn't saved by the revenge he took on all the people who hurt him, but by the strength he had to wait through a terrible situation until it got better and then live on to the better future. Carrie accomplishes her revenge in burning down the school gymnasium and all of her bullies, then goes home and dies a few minutes after killing her mom the last of her abusers unable to escape the cycle.

While their endings are opposites, in both cases completing their revenge didn't give them any measure of peace at all. In fact, the Count almost in the course of his revenge committed a sin far worse than anyone had done to him by killing a newborn infant. No, any good revenge story should know that in the words of percy from Critical Role you can't murder your way to peace.

"There was nothing I could’ve done to save my family, yet I still sold my soul in search of vengeance. Later I allowed Ripley to leave, knowing full well she was a greater threat to the world than the Briarwoods would ever be. I traded the world’s safety for the belief that I could murder my way to peace; that if I could be a greater horror, it would bring my family back. And once this lie was shattered I scrambled to find a solution, to make a deal, to undo my mistakes and balance the scales. I now understand that there are no scales, there is no redemption, and no ledger that judges me good or evil. I am free to simply be myself and live with the terrible mistakes I’ve made." -Percy's Death Letter, Critical Role

In most revenge stories I've noticed that revenge is the main character motivator for the character taking revenge. Therefore the conflict becomes whether or not they can find something new to live for by the end of the story. The characters seeking revenge often make that revenge their entire reason for living, but then what next?

This quote from Oldboy a modern adaptation of the Count of Monte Cristo is relevant.

Seeking revenge is the best cure for someone who got hurt Try it The loss of 15 years the pain of losing your wife and child you can forget all this Once again revenge is good for your health But... What happens after you've revenged yourself?

What happens after you've revenged yourself should be the central question to these revenge arcs. The ones who don't have an answer to that question and are unable to free themselves from the cycle are the ones who end in tragedy.

YUN VS KOHAKU

Yun and Kohaku are characters from a western animated series that adopts eastern themes and a Japanese visual novel about vampires. These two characters come from very different genres of stories, an adventure story about magical warriors using martial arts to bend the elements and a horror story about vampires and serial killers respectively.

However, because both Yun and Kohaku are the central figures of a revenge tragedy they end up having a lot in common. The largest common thread between them is that both of them is that they are child abuse victims, specifically the victims of long term grooming.

They are children who were adopted and then groomed by their father figure for years. In Kohaku's case, it was sexual grooming, whereas in Yun's case it was grooming him into a child soldier. The official definition of child grooming works for both of these cases, it is when an adult forms a relationship with a child to sexually assault them or induce them into doing something dangerous or harmful to them.

Kohaku and Yun are more obscure characters though so for the sake of people who haven't read one or both of these series I'm going to go more into depth on their individual circumstances.

Kohaku is an empath, born with the ability to transfer energy to other people through sexual intercourse. She and her sister were brought into the Tohno Clan, because Makihisa Tohno the elder had demon blood in his veins. This demon blood made him at risk of going through a process called inversion, where he would slowly lose all his mind, all reason, and violently attack everyone around him until he was finally put down. In order to mitigate that risk, Makishisa engaged in regular sexual intercourse with a young Kohaku and made use of her abilities as an empath to control his demon side.

As the elder of twin sisters Kohaku made a deal with Makihisa that she'd let him use her whenever she needed as long as he never touched her sister. Since he kept his word to her, she found it hard to resent him in the long term. Also, because she was constantly high on drugs that made it impossible for her to feel pain.

"So, I took in everything Makihisa-sama wanted to do. I asked him not to touch Hisui-chan because I would take everything myself. He was probably ashamed and agreed to my request. He probably also thought it was better that as few people knew about this secret as possible."

Kohaku is eventually sent to take care of Makihisa's son who also inverted, but when he loses control and rapes her too that's when she loses her last bit of humanity and starts to think of revenge.

At this point she starts to think of herself as an unthinking doll who cannot move for herself, and can only move for revenge. She eventually starts to move against Makishia, first by informing Akiha and Hisui of the abuse she's suffered. She's surprised when Akiha immediately protests what he farther was doing right away, and the sexual liason ends and Kohaku becomes a normal servant. However, even after the abuse ends Kohaku decides to continue living for revenge leading to the main plot of the Far Side of Tsukihime.

Yun is the false avatar. If you've heard of Avatar then I'm sure you at least vaguely know of the concept of the avatar, spiritual guide in the world of avatar that reincarnates over and over again to guide both humanity and the spirits.

In the avatar prequel novels it's established each nation has its own way of tracking down the avatar, but because Kuruk died early and under mysterious circumstances the earth nation was in a panic to find the next avatar. Instead of waiting for more sure confirmation, they picked one random kid on the side of the road on what was basically a hunch that he was Kuruk's reincarnation. This kid was named Yun, a nameless but smart kid with no parents who was conning people by playing Pai Sho really really well. While all along the next avatar Kyoshi was right next to them as one of Yun's servants.

Yun is trained as the avatar through years, and is put through the kind of training that only the Zoldyck family from Hunter x Hunter would approve in. Including being forced to walk on spiked caltrops to learn bending, and being forced to microdose on poison to gain an immunity. Like, this is literally what Killua's parents did to him in HXH.

"I'm surprised you can move," Jianzhu said to him, more impressed than anything else. "Poison training," Yun spat through clenched jaws. "With Sifu Amak, remember? Or did you forget every darker exercise you put me through?"

Yun is a genius earth bender, a brilliant statesman, he works all around the clock to become the avatar everyone is telling him he's destined to be but he's not physically capable of bending any element other than earth. To the point where after a year of failing to learn fire, his bending teachers frequently lambast him as being lazy and not trying hard enough.

"Your situation isn't unique" Hei-Ran went on. "History is full of Avatars like you who tried to coast on their talents. You're not the only one who wanted to take it easy." Yun slipped. An event rare enough to notice. His motion took him too far outside his center of gravity, and he stumbled on his knees. Sweat stung his eyes, ran into the corner of his mouth. Take it easy? Take it easy? Was she ignoring the fact he spent sleepless nights poring over scholarly analyses of Yanghcen's political decisions? That he'd extensively memorized the names of every Earth Kingdom noble, Fire Nation commander, and Water Tribe Chieftan back three generations on the living and the dead? The forgotten texts he'd used to map the ancient sacred sites of the Air Nomads to such a degree that Kelsang was surprised about a few of them? That's who he was when no one was looking. Someone who dedicated his whole being to his Avatarhood. Yun wanted to make up for the lost time he'd squandered by being discovered so late. He wanted to express gratitude to Jianzhu and the entire world for giving him the greatest gift in existence. Taking it easy was the last thing on his mind. [Literally a few seconds later...] "In the old days, masters used to maim their students for insubordination," she said horsely. Yun restrained himself from flinching, "What wonderful modern times we live in."

So Yun is physically and emotionally abused by all of his teachers, Jianzhu, Hei-Ran and several other adults who were complicit with it to train him up into being the avatar. Then, when it turns out Yun isn't the avatar, he's immediately abandoned and left for dead.

Yun gets dragged into the spirit world as a human sacrifice to a horrifying spirit known as Father Glow Worm. He is abandoned by his master who makes no attempt to save him the moment he learned that he wasn't the avatar. Then, in the spirit world he fights Father Glow Worm for days and eventually has to eat him in order to escape home.

After getting to a random village he asks for water. Yun is mocked by a man he saved earlier fo rasking for a single glass of water. When the man throws the water on the ground and tells him to water bend it, Yun snaps and then kills the man who mocked him, the city guard, and everyone who was sitting in the teashouse and has his Geto moment. He decides to start living for revenge against all of the teachers who abused him.

"Well," he said out loud to no one. "It looks like I've been fired." Perhaps it was for the best. He would need the free time, because he had a losit of things to do. lots of personal business to take care of. And at the top of the list was paying his respects to Jianzhu. Filled with new purpose, Yun took off down the road, whistling as he went.

Both of these characters decide to make revenge their reason for living. To quote Oldboy, "Seeking revenge is the best cure for someone who got hurt. Try it." They also face the same fundamental issue, now that they're only living for revenge then what happens after they've revenged themselves?

These characters are also similar in a couple of other ways. They are schemers who mainly work through manipulating others. Yun fakes a political conflict between the fire nation royal family and another noble family in order to bring one of his abusers into the crossfire. Kohaku manipulates both SHIKI and Shiki through the use of drugs to orchestrate her revenge in the Far Side Routes.

They're also both trickster characters. Yun refers to himself as a clown and constantly hides everything behind a smile. "He added that smirk that everyone said reminded them of Kuruk's. After all, a clown needed his makeup." A major part of Kohaku's character is that after Hisui learned about how her sister was being abused she stopped smiling. Kohaku wanting her sister to be happy, started to fake a smile and goof around the way Hisui used to because she wants to see her sister smile again.

One more similarity before I begin dissecting their differences and the way these two characters are handled is that if Kohaku and Yun were the main characters of the story their revenge would undoubtably be framed as one hundred percent justified. If they were the main characters it would definitely be a kill bill situation.

I don't think they are justified, because straightforward revenge is boring. The fact that they are antagonists is the point of each story. I'm just making an underlying point on how a lot of revenge stories suffer from protagonist centered morality. It's alright if Maki Zen'in, or The Bride kills upwards of a hundred people in retaliation for the harm that was done to them and we're supposed to root for them without thinking too deeply on it because they're the protagonists of the story. Protagonist centered morality is bad, because it makes things too centered on the protagonist and therefore if the morality of a piece of based on the protagonist it will make things too easy and the protagonist will go unchallenged.

In fact, in the story of Tsukihime itself, the entire Tohno family thinks that Kohaku 100% has the right to take revenge against them. Akiha is fully aware of Kohaku's revenge scheme. She lets Kohaku get away with her revenge every step of the way, including taking what is essentially a bullet on purpose and dying for Kohaku's revenge scheme because she believes her family deserves it.

However, because they are not the protagonists they don't get the easy route of taking their revenge against the people who deserve it and then riding off into the sunset happily. No, Kohaku practically gets her revenge handed to her on a silver platter and still revenge doesn't fix anything.

Once again, revenge is good for your health, but...

WHAT HAPPENS AFTER YOU'VE REVENGED YOURSELF?

Yun and Kohaku are both characters who either lost everything, or had no reason to live to begin with and decided to make revenge a reason for living. Both of them were unable to keep living for revenge because revenge is unsustainable. It's not something you do once and you're done, it's a cycle. The act of participating in it continues to perpetuate the cycle. As a result both of them met their tragic end.

However, Kohaku's tragedy surpassed Count of Monte Cristo for my favorite revenge story in all of fiction, whereas Yun's ending made me want to rip his book in half.

There are some differences in how their revenge stories play out. Kohaku is a very unique character. In spite of being an emotionless doll, she takes her revenge not out of anger or hate but empathy. I can't word it better than Comun so I'll just quote their post:

Hisui route ends with the reveal that Kohaku masterminded the demise of the Toono family and her motives are pretty obvious but I never expect the way she felt about it. Kohaku describes herself as not as a human, but as Makihisa’s emotionless doll. Kohaku had to constantly intake pain-removing drugs in order to endure Makihisa’s (and latter SHIKI’s) abuse and this state of not feeling anything disconnected her from her emotions. Kohaku admits that, to some extent, she did all of this because it made her feel human a little. What you would expect from this premise? Kohaku channelling her remnants of humanity into hatred for the Toono family and orchestrating her revenge. Was that what really was on her mind? Nope, Kohaku (and Kinoko himself, as Fate/Grand Order is a great evidence of) has a much more positive definition of what it means to be human. Kohaku expresses her humanity through fairness, empathy and a desire to make the situation better. Even though, Makihisa singlehandedly completely ruined her life, she acknowledges that he didn’t do it out of sadism or perversion, he did because he really had no other choice in order to keep himself from inverting and causing even bigger harm to everyone. Kohaku sees Makihisa as much of a victim of this tragedy as herself. 

Kohaku's revenge actually takes a twisted form of empathy. Kohaku doesn't have the standard revenge motivation of just wanting to hurt the people who hurt her, because she can objectively see the points of view of almost everyone involved in the tragedy.

It's a bit like Orestes where there's no true beginning or end point. Makihisa is a sick pervert and the instigator, but he also didn't choose to be born with demon blood that made him liable to turn insane at any moment. SHIKI is kind of helpless in all of this, as another person with demon blood he couldn't help inverting at nine years old and going completely insane, he's not really in control of his actions. Hisui is an innocent, and while Akiha is a part of the same family the moment she learned what Kohaku was suffering she stood up for Kohaku and made it stop.

"But, there wasn't anything else I could do. Without a purpose like that, I couldn't live. A doll cannot move on its own. Without anything to guide it, it can't move." "But still--" ...... That is unforgivable.

Comun frames Kohaku's motivations as genuinely believing the world would be better off without the Tohno bloodline, because it only has caused everyone involved with it suffering. Therefoer she makes a plan to kill every member of the family, except for Hisui and Shiki who are technically innocents, and then herself finally so Hisui can run off into the sunset together with Shiki who she'd always loved.

I'd also add that on top of empathy there's also a certain justice in her actions. Not justice in the sense that she has to hurt the people who hurt her, more like justice in the sense of fairness? Like, Kohaku isn't driven by personal hatred but rather a desire to make things fair and balance the scales. A family like the Tohno who cause misery to everyone shouldn't exist, because people shouldn't have mixed their blood with demons in the first place. There has to be a consequence to Makihisa's actions because you can't get away with child rape and the only one who could enforce it was her. The same way that Kohaku considers everyone's opinion equally and considers everyone equal victims in this twisted family cycle of revenge, Kohaku also acts to make things more fair.

To quote Percy again, it's like she's trying to balance the ledgers.

"And once this lie was shattered I scrambled to find a solution, to make a deal, to undo my mistakes and balance the scales. I now understand that there are no scales, there is no redemption, and no ledger that judges me good or evil."

Kohaku's also constructing a narrative around her pain. She needs a reason to keep living, and that reason is the narrative she's constructed, the story she told herself that she only half believes that everyone would be better off if everyone associated with the Tohnos, herself included, except for Hisui and Shiki died off.

Of course this is just a narrative. A lie she is telling herself to justify her actions. Because Kohaku acts out of fairness, and empathy, but she also acts for the sake of acting. She wants a reason to move, because otherwise she would just be a doll, passively enduring suffering. The story she tells herself is in the end a lie, like all stories are. Kohaku ignores the feelings of two people in her assumption that everyone would be better off without the Tohnos, that is her own personal feelings towards Akiha, and Hisui's feelings towards her. Kohaku understands that the reason Hisui can't smile any more is that she's too horrified at all the things her sister endured to protect her. However, she can't grasp that killing herself in front of Hisui would just make Hisui live with that guilt forever. That Hisui would rather be miserable with her sister alive than happy with her dead.

(From the good ending)

"Nee-san......? Nee-san, hold on......!!" A desperate cry. Seeing that, the girl smiles like a child. "...... Huh? ...... Don't do that, Hisui-chan. Crying like that, it feels...... like back then." "What---Nee-san, why----" "...... Yeah, because if I, don't do, so, you won't be, able to return, to the way, you were." Her words in pieces, and with glazed eyes, she speaks to Hisui. "---------Nee, san." Hisui's face contorts in grief. Her tears flood her face. "...... Why? That's fine. I was okay with the way I was. If you were happy, then I was happy. I---I was always protected by you, so---" I was always happy. Painfully, she swallows her last words.

Yun is in comparison less magnanimous towards his abusers. He wants more straightforward revenge against his teachers and all the people who "lied" to him by promoting him as the false avatar.

This is the biggest area where he differs from Kohaku. Rather than Kohaku, I'd say he's more like Geto, someone with a savior complex who genuinely put their all into being good because they believed they had the responsibility to save people, only to be then betrayed by those same people they were working so hard to save.

I do still think empathy is the central motivation for both characters. Kohaku commits revenge out of a twisted sense of empathy to see the perspectives of everyone involved and decides the only way to fix everything is to destroy it all and wipe the board clean and give the two innocents in the Tohno Household a fresh start.

Geto and Yun are both high empathy individuals whose empathy for other people twists them so much when they're confronted by human ugliness and selfishness, that they end up turning on the same people they wanted to save. They feel a bone deep empathy that twists them into monsters because they're not able to exist in an unfair or imperfect world that isn't the way they imagined it to be.

'...no matter what, I hate non-sorcerers. But it's not like I hate everyone at Jujutsu Tech. It's just...' It's just that it was what Geto had to do. In some ways, Geto and Yuuta were the same. Geto was too sincere. To someone like him, the reality that the world of sorcerers presented to him was just too cruel. '...that in a world like this, I couldn't be truly happy from the bottom of my heart.' To live for the purpose of being yourself. And for that goal, Geto could only continue to pursue his twisted dream, drowning himself in the curse that lies in the gap between ideal and reality. This was the final confession of a man who could only choose to warp himself, who had erased himself in pursuit of his goals. The only person who could bear such a curse was Gojo Satoru. JUJUTSU KAISEN ZERO LIGHT NOVEL

Geto is broken by the idea that all of his comrades and himself are considered expendable, and they're all meant to sacrifice themselves for an ignorant public. Yun is broken by the fact he broke his body and mind trying to be a great avatar because he wanted to help people, only to learn that it was all for nothing because he was discarded the moment it turned out he wasn't the avatar.

(Yun is more Morgan Coded but that's a different post).

It was too late. "I dedicated my life to people like you." Yun said. He couldn't tell if he was laughing, crying, croaking out beastial sounds of fury. "I wanted you to thrive. I wanted you to prosper. I tried so hard."

However, I'd say both of them Kohaku and Yun are driven by an underlying idea of fairness. They're not taking bloody violent revenge for personal gratitude, but because they can't cope with the unfairness of the world they're living in and are trying to find some ways to balance the scales.

Yun is so driven by fairness that he doesn't want to punish Kyoshi even though she technically stole the title of avatar from him. He considers her innocent of the whole thing, and even sympathizes with her and the struggles she carries right now as avatar.

"I can't believe you think I would ever hurt you." He gently tugged the closed fan out of her right hand. "You, the one innocent party in this whole affair! I would never hurt you, Kyoshi! For Yanghcen's sake, I used to be your whole life.!" He dropped the weapon and it pinged against the ground. "I know what's happening here. Your duties have gotten to you haven't they? I remember what it was like, carrying the weight of Four nations on my shoulders. Jianzhu used to liken them to unruly students in a classroom, requiring the guidance of a strong hand." He paused and chuckled, "I used to believe it meant showing the wya, leading my example. Now I know better. The world is a child refusing to listen, creaming in a tantrum. It needs to be slapped a few times until it learns to be quiet."

I think this is essentially the difference that makes one narrative and breaks the other. Nasu is fully aware of Kohaku's humanity even as she calls herself a doll. He goes to great length to demonstrate Kohaku's humanity in all the ways I pointed out above, by showing how much she sympathizes with others, by how she protected her sister, by how she's guided by principles.

More than anything, it sympathizes with Kohaku by making us as the reader understand that while she did bad things it was in retaliation to an even more horrible evil done to her. Also, that Kohaku only did these things because revenge was the only way she could think of to live, Kohaku was just a victim coping in the worst way imaginable. I think Nasu really nails down the hopelessness of someone who's clinging to revenge because they can't think of any other reason to live.

Whereas so much effort is put into Yun's backstory and detailing all of his suffering, only for him to be treated like a very standard villain. Like, honestly, Geto is a genocidal maniac and he's framed way more nicely by the story he's in than Yun. All Yun really wants to do is kill his abusers and that is apparently a sin too deep to continue living with.

Geto who does way worse things than Yun, and who is also killed by his former best friend is shown way more love and acceptance in his ending than Yun is.

This was the final confession of a man who could only choose to warp himself, who had erased himself in pursuit of his goals. The only person who could bear such a curse was Gojo Satoru. Where did it go wrong? And how could they start over again? The answer was left in their far-away, far-away youth. And even considering everything that had happened until now, it was clear that this story was about to end. But, there was one thing that was concrete. Even if everything was different now, there was still one thing that - from the very moment it all started - had never changed. Gojo knelt down, meeting Geto's eyes as he sat there. '...Suguru.' '...?' Geto Suguru. It was a named that the Jujutsu Tech organization feared: one of the four special grade sorcerers, who had killed over a hundred ordinary people, who had been named and exiled as the most evil curse use. But to Gojo Satoru, he was —— '————, ————' '...ha.' When he heard the words Gojo blurted out, Geto couldn't help but laugh. Such embarrassing (t/n: makes you self-conscious) words. Even why they were students, those words had never been said before. 'You should've at least cursed me a little before the end.'

In the actual manga of JJK too, Gojo tells a teenage ghost of Geto that if his adult self was there he was the only one who could have satisfied him. Gojo thinks about how he has to finally catch up to Geto after being left behind that day, when he moves on to kill the higher ups. Gojo's dream of protecting the youth came about because he never wanted someone to suffer alone like Geto did again.

Whereas, this is basically the only thing Yun gets told from his best friend and the hero of the story who is supposed to be the chosen spiritual guide of humanity chosen by the gods.

“It’s time to let go.” Kyoshi lowered her hands. “Whether you kill me here today or not, you have to let go of what happened.” “And it didn’t brting me peace. It was wrong that you were lied to, Yun. It was wrong for Jainzhu to do what he did, but he’s gone. Whatever pain and anger you have left - you have to live with it. You can’t put it on anyone else.”

Have you tried, uhhhhhh getting over it?

The "you have to live with it" is just particulary insensitive because as I went to great lengths to demonstate above, Yun was TRYING to live with it. Just like Kohaku, revenge was the only reason he could come up with to keep living.

It's fine if the heroes cannot find a way to reach out to save Yun in time and he dies because living for revenge is unsustainable. That's what happens to Kohaku, that's what happens to Geto. There's just a cruel lack of empathy in the way that Yun's death is framed. It's framed as a mercy killing, because Yun, a like eighteen year old boy who was retialiating against his abusers was just apparently so beyond hope. Not to mention that Kyohsi deliberately sides with one of the abusers and gives Hei - Ran a chance to redeem herself, but doesn't give that same chance to Yun her victim.

It's just this way that they characterize violence as bad but don't analyze at all where the violence came from or why they'd want to retaliate in that way. Gojo mercy killed his best friend Geto, but he also realized that the problem didn't begin with Geto and sought to create change in Jujutsu Society after Geto's death in order to try to break that cycle.

"I'm sorry for saying you have to live with your pain." Kyoshi put her palm into his chest in a gesture of comfort. "Because you won't." The cold she sent through his body formed a tunnel of ice between his ribs. It happened so fast, and with so much force, the air behind him turned to frost. With his heart and lungs frozen solid, Yun fell to the side.

Kyoshi kills Yun by freezing his heart. She specifically uses a technique that was taught to her to heal people, to murder him and put him out of his misery.

In the aftermath Kyoshi buries him and then lets the entire world remember him as a boy who went crazy and tried to kill the avatar. She doesn't even like... tell the whole story. That he was abused and lied to his whole life to clear his name.

Like, what a great friend.

This is what happened with Noel and Ciel too, but as I said in my Noel / Ciel post, Ciel killing Noel is meant to make her look like a terrible person. Noel is a victim caught up in circumstances, and Ciel could have saved her much earlier by lifting a finger and now that it's too late all Ciel can do is coldly put her out of her misery because Ciel isn't a hero. Shiki, a character who chops women into tiny little pieces has the opportunity to kill Noel a couple of times and doesn't do it, because he knows that killing her would be wrong and leaves it up to Ciel to decide.

Noel is fridged and dies a miserable death as a victim but it serves the greater story purpose of pointing out what a terrible hero that Ciel is. However, in avatar, the story still wants me to believe that Kyoshi is the hero so the only way they can accomplish that is by villainizing Yun and giving him an unsympathetic death.

if you wanted Yun's life to be some great tragedy, then you should let Kyoshi look bad. Let Yun died because Kyoshi completely failed to save him, have it be her wrongdoing. If you don't want Kyoshi to look bad, if you want her to be a hero then have her save Yun. You can only have it one way or the other. If the only way you can make Kyoshi still look like a hero is by victim blaming a victim of long term child abuse for not just getting over it then I don't know what kind of story you're writing there.

The writing just needs Yun to be a straightforward twist villain in the end for Kyoshi to defeat, so they downplay all of these good points and his status as the victim to make him fit into a more two dimensional role. If Yun is wrong because violence against his abusers won't solve his problem, then why is the solution for Kyoshi to just put him down with violence? Why is Kyoshi's violence sanctioned but Yun's violence not sanctioned? Kyoshi is allowed to kill Yun and put him out of his misery, but Yun can't kill his abusers? It's justice when Kysohi does it, but revenge when Yun does it? Kyoshi preaches that you can't stop the cycle with violence you have to let go then proceeds to end the cycle... by murdering Yun.

You can't preach this empty revenge bad message unless you're willing to look into why a character like Yun would want revenge in the first place, and how the world has failed him in ways that he thinks the only way to keep living is for revenge. You can't just tell him to let go without showing both him and the audience what letting go would look like.

This is exactly what Tsukhime did right with one of the most beautiful scenes in all of fiction, by showing that the cycle didn't end with Kohaku killing her abuser, and it didn't even end with Kohaku killing herself because each time she tried to enact revenge all she succesfully did was bring more pain into the world.

"But----" "Eh?" "But, there was just one strange thing." Really just a little bit. She said that as her eyes trailed off into the distance. "Akiha-sama protected me in the end. I knew there was a fifty-fifty chance she would do that. I stayed close to her for that reason. Revealing Makihisa-sama's abuse and devotedly helping Akiha-sama who was slowly turning nonhuman. ---Yes that's right. Really, I knew she would die protecting me." That smile. Even though she is smiling, she looks really sad, as if she's-- "But----I was really surprised at the time. Why is she protecting me? Why is she protecting me, risking her life?" ---She looks like she might burst into tears. "I still don't actually understand if I was actually happy or sad when Akiha-sama died. But when I wake up in the morning, I take tea to her room even though I know she is gone. Isn't this strange? Even though there's no one in that room anymore."

Kohaku thought she was relieving everyone of pain by killing the Tohno, that everyone would be better off, but the moment she succesfully kills Akiha she regrets it. It's all so hollow that she goes to Akiha's room every day for like a month leaving tea in front of her door.

Kohaku's identity is so wrapped up in pain, she forgets that in spite of the pain caused by those bonds there's also love. Hisui might not be able to smile because she feels constant guilt over how much Kohaku endured for her sake, but that doesn't mean Kohaku disappearing would fix that because she loves her sister.

Kohaku may think that Akiha is better off dead, that they're both better off dead because they only cause each other pain through their twisted connection but once Akiha is dead she goes to her door and leaves tea there every. single. day. because she valued her connection to Akiha so much.

Then she kills herself by gauging her knife out with a heart, mirroring Akiha who was pierced by the heart protecting Kohaku. "Hang in there...! Why, why did you do that...!" "Because revenge was the only thing I could do----I can only disappear when it's all over. I tried to find new springs, but I could never find one, and time ran out." She smiles. That... for no reason at all---- "What the hell is that? What are you saying...!" I look at the wound like I did to Akiha. ---She won't make it. It has pierced her heart. "........." Why? There was no reason---I just can't bear the sadness.

Revenge was unsustainable but because she couldn't be her genuine self in front of others, because she couldn't get in touch with her genuine feelings of affection for people like Akiha tshe couldn't find any other reason to live in time.

Even after Kohaku has just confessed to orchestrating the murder of Shiki's sister and terrorizing him for weeks on end, Shiki still begs for her to live though.

"...... Right? You're a normal girl who liked Akiha, was always worried about Hisui, and laughed when we talked about stupid things. So----" Even if she wished it and caused the deaths of Akiha and SHIKI... "--Kohaku, there was no reason for you to die." Increasing my grip, I say these words from the bottom of my heart.

I think that's ultimately what makes Kohaku's story superior, because it is at its heart a story about an abuse victim who couldn't find any better way of living. The story bends over backwards to show us all of Kohaku's good qualities, and how it's those good qualities that led to her fall, not any internal badness on her part. Even if Kohaku is someone who's capable of doing bad things and got a whole bunch of unrelated people serial killed by SHIKI. The tragedy is also on the onus of the main character. That's what the story of the ribbon is for, the whole thing could have been prevented if Shiki could give the ribbon to the proper girl in time. The whole thing is written with the premise that Shiki could have saved her, and he does in her route. It's as much of the main character's failure as Kohaku's.

On the other hand, the tragedy in Yun's story isn't that Yun is a longterm victim who didn't get the help he needed in time. It's that Kyoshi is sad because she has to put down her childhood friend like a mad dog. All of Yun's good traits are invalidated and he's painted as a villain to make the story simpler and as a result it's far more boring and doesn't have anything to say about abuse, or the human condition and how it survives terrible abuse like Nasu's writing does.

That's why Nasu is the goat.

At least until Tsukihime Remake comes out and Kohaku's route gets padded out with filler and turned into a giant extended boss fight that didn't need to exist at all that takes like five hours to finish NO I'M NOT BITTER ABOUT CIEL ROUTE'S TRUE END IN THE REMAKE AT ALL.

[travispilledmartinezcel]

You Hit Travis with a Plate and He Dies

Summary: You and Travis have a rare moment of peace, and then he fucks it up. Your reaction is definitely proportionate and reasonable.

600~ words. Second person. Gender neutral reader.

A dog bark. Uneven breathing. A leaky faucet. Fingers drumming on wood. Electricity buzzes in unsteady waves in the Martinez house.

Two people sit at a table, hunched over and whispering amongst themselves. You lift your head a little and see Travis staring back. You can feel the electricity under your feet.

It's become ritual to sit in the living room whenever the rest of his family is gone, a nebulous event that happens 'whenever.' When it happens, he's... less. Sometimes he cuts off his usual bullshit. He decides to count the gouges in the wood instead of holding eye contact. He's just calmer.

Right now, 'whenever' is an hour or two after lunchtime. It's a rare weekday where you don't have school and everyone else has work. The two of you are grazing, taking a bit of this and that out of the cupboards and eating whatever is appealing to you. 'Whatever,' if you're curious, is grapes– and a sandwich, but mostly grapes.

Travis reaches his hand across the table and swipes one of the grapes off your plate. It's green, just barely overripe, and you can see the way it squishes between his fingers.

"You want it?" He asks the question while still pressing down on it. You see its flesh begin to herniate.

"Not... Really." Is he really going to mess around with it and then pop it in his mouth?

Travis looks between it, and you, and back at it again. You can sense a thought brewing between his ears. He's squinting as he stares at the thing, calculating some variable you can't deduce, before drawing his arm back and tossing it right at you. It bounces off your forehead and lands back on the table. "Seriously?" The grape's blood drips down towards your eyebrows, drying out as it goes.

What a waste of a perfectly mediocre grape.

You pick it up off the table and throw it right back, only for it to whizz past his ear and fall to the ground behind him. He starts smiling.

Embarrassment burns hot in your chest and on your cheeks, and Travis's shit-eating grin does nothing to help you. It nearly splits his face in two. You want to say it's unnatural.

(He just doesn't usually smile... it's a good smile, otherwise. It's pretty.)

If you give him enough time to respond, he's going to say something as obtuse as it is grating. Something about him being, objectively, better. He starts laughing. Your mind whites out. You need to prove yourself. You need to do better than him.

He starts doing something else, maybe grabbing another grape, but you can't see. Your heart is hammering against your ribcage.

Panic does strange things to people.

You grab the plate in front of you, still full of grapes and a half-eaten sandwich. The grapes start rolling off the edge. The sandwich slides but doesn't fall. The weight of the plate is solid on your fingers. Some unnamed neurons or ancient reptilian instinct tells your arm to draw back and feel the potential energy coursing through your muscle. Another instinct tells you to push forward and let go.

You throw the plate right at him. It's sloppy, but the shot rings true. His laughter cuts off right before impact, and his jaw drops at the sight of his mother's (probably, maybe) expensive plate soaring in the air. It shatters, and Travis falls to the floor with a thud.

It's a perfect throw.

You killed him.

His body hits the floor at an uncomfortable angle, surrounded by a halo of ceramic, grapes, and a half eaten sandwich. Your blood freezes at the sight.

Upon closer inspection, you can see the faintest trail of blood on his cheek. His chest doesn't seem to move. Or, maybe the whole room is moving with him.

"Fuck."

You threw a plate at him.

"Fuck."

You threw a plate at his miserable head and he's gone and died.

"Shit!"

Travis's body doesn't respond. Not a squeak. It continues to lay on the floor with you hunched over it.

[alwaysshallow]

divorced simon...... or still in the court, your husband (almost ex) that doesn't want to let you go.

not only because he loves you (and in his mind, it should be clear; no matter if he says it or not) but because he owns you. he said "till death do us part" and as a person who almost died, multiple ways, it has a meaning to him.

it means that no matter what, you're gonna be here. and he's gonna be here too—crawling to you from the deepest, darkest depths of hell just to lay in the same bed as you, in his home, and you’re gonna be in his arms.

simon’s always been possessive, not only when you two got married, but when you two were dating too, so that’s not a surprise he doesn’t let go things easily. he gives your attorney dirty looks, provoking him whenever he feels like it, checking if he doesn’t have funny business with you. if he’s only your attorney. 

it’s only right that he got himself one; the best he probably could find here, a shark who definitely wants too much money, but simon ain’t gonna go cheap on you. if it means he’ll get you back—this way or another, but he prefers to do it in a civilized way—he’s gonna spend every penny chasing you.

and it feels pretty good after a few months of battling in court. your pissed glances at him only get him worked up more, and the two of you can feel exactly like when you were just fresh into your relationship. 

you’re not really one for the arguments, never were—his good girl knows better than that, knows how to talk to him rather than argue. an art he didn’t learn even to this day—so it’s not a surprise he eventually corners you in the women’s bathroom. locks the door so your mother or anyone else won’t interrupt you two. 

“what are you—”

“—sssh.” it’s probably the first situation in months that only the two of you are alone. completely alone. without all of the judges, attorneys, and family. it’s no surprise he wants to talk to you in private, but you know exactly why you avoided him.

his brown eyes; hands, full of scars, full of blood of his enemies, caressing your waist and his body that press against you when he wants something badly. just like it does right now, when he whispers something to your ear, and you’re not sure what because you can only focus on his cock pressing against your ass.

“—so, let’s go home.”

“it’s my house, simon,” you try to reason with him, clearing your throat out of all the saliva that’s been building up. “the court—”

“—built it with our money, with my own fuckin’ hands, ‘m not gonna listen to some guy that knows better.” his hand travels down, right under your skirt. “my favourite color, and you expect me to just watch you?”

yeah. yeah, maybe it was a moment of weakness, maybe longing, but when you leave the bathroom with disheveled hair, a wolfish grin on simon’s lips, you know you’re fucked with the divorce.

quite literally.

[katskitoshi]

"W-WAIT, YOU'RE NOT A BOY?" with TWISTED WONDERLAND

synopsis: he's gotten to the point where he thinks he knows everything about you, until you (accidentally) spring on him that you're not even a guy.

characters: riddle, trey, cater, ace, deuce, leona, ruggie, jack, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, vil, rook, epel, idia, ortho, malleus, lilia, silver, & sebek x fem! reader

includes: mutual crush relationships (everyone -ortho), cursing, mentions panties and bras, slightly suggestive in some parts.

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if not for an unbirthday party where you needed an outfit that accommodated your body more, riddle rosehearts would have never noticed unless you outwardly told him. only now did he realize your more feminine features, and he turns as red as his hair. after realizing, he does treat you slightly more respectful because he was raised to treat women respectfully. besides being more respectful, flustered, and in love with you, not much changed in you two's friendship.

trey clover would have found out sooner or later even if his hand never touched your bra on accident while tying your apron. he straight up asks if you're a girl, and when you tell him you are he acts surprised and flustered. honestly, not much changes. he acts the exact same but gets slightly more protective of you.

when cater diamond found out over magicam that you were a a girl, he nearly died. he just though you were one of the guys that were more naturally feminine, only to find out you're actually a female. honestly, he's not mad. he still loves you! he'll help you keep it a secret if you wish, but if you don't want to, there probably won't be a student in the school who doesn't know you're a girl. but don't worry, he'll keep all those icky pervs away!

okay, okay. because he's a little shit, he wanted to prank you and it just happened to involve you dressing yourself. so ace trappola waited until he knew you were changing to barge into your room, only to be face to face with you in just a bra and panties. he screams, like a girl, more girly than you, and rushed out the dorm with his face red. the next day is awkward, but at least he knows his crush is a girl, and that you have a really cute body under the clothes that convinces others you're a boy.

it's just so strange, the feelings deuce spade has. he even calls his mom and tells her all about his little crush. but by the way he was describing you, ms. spade didn't think you were a guy. so deuce builds up the courage to ask you if you're actually a guy. to his surprise when you tell him you're not, he dies of embarrassment. queue delinquent deuce whenever someone makes some pervy comment (or generally speaks) to you.

honestly, leona kingscholar probably knew already. he could probably sense or smell the female hormones on your or something. i don't know, all i know is that leona knows. he doesn't really have to ask or anything. he just knows. and you think he knows because he treats you better than any other male in the school. his attitude towards you doesn't ever really change but he's definitely flirty with you.

ruggie bucchi is in the same boat is leona. they both can just tell you're not a guy. however, he fears you. male hyenas usually listen to their female counterpart, so ruggie usually just listens. however, when he realizes he has control and that you aren't a threat, he's definitely becomes more friendly around you. no matter how much he fears you, his crush never ever leaves.

i won't lie, but every person in savanaclaw probably knows you're a girl. jack howl included. he won't make it painfully obvious that he knows but he definitely lets you know subtly know he knows. he shows you great amounts of respect and sometimes can't help but feel absolutely vile for thinking of you in some... not so respectful ways.

look, you're gonna give the poor octopus a heart attack once he finds out! you're filling out a contract and you inform azul ashengrotto that you're a girl and ask for certain things to be changed. he simply dies on the spot from shock and is a blushy little octopus. he thinks of using you to convince more people to the monstro lounge, but he can't do that to his crush!

just as expected, jade leech finds out rather quickly. one walk in the forrest on a hot day and a crop top with some sweat soaking through was enough to spill the beans. of course he had his suspicions, but you confirmed them for him! he finds you somehow cuter with your secret revealed. don't worry, your secret is safe with him!

floyd leech always thought you were just so cute! so, he just has to squeeze you to show you his love, right? when he squeezed you, he felt something push against him. he realized what he felt was what all the female merfolk had. "oh, shrimpy! you have boobs!" and he enjoys squeezing your boobs more than you. it doesn't matter if they're big or small, he just can't stop squeezing them!

this shouldn't come as a surprise, but it takes kalim al-asim a long time to find out. i mean, he can quite literally see you naked and be like "wow! you're very female-bodied for a guy!" of course, he didn't find out that way, but he could have. he actually found out by spilling water on you and seeing your bra. anyways, he's surprisingly calm about it. he still treats you like a friend that he has an obvious crush on, so yeah!

jamil viper is surprisingly shocked at what he found out. a little cooking mishap caused you to take off your oversized hoodie and make jamil realize your more... feminine features on your upper body. of course, he's a lot more over protective of you, and oh! he just can't stop staring! he tries his best, but his crush is just a bit more apparent!

he had always had his suspicions. vil schoenheit always thought your more feminine appearance had been more than some accidental blessing. apparently, he was proven right when on a shopping spree he got a little look of your breasts while trying on some clothes. he'll bring you all sorts of clothes that he thinks will suit you, enjoying getting to see you try on the clothes. you can tell he knows your little secret by the more.. risky.. clothes, if you can even call them that, he requests you in.

rook hunt knew from the first second he saw you. you come into night raven and expect not to be observed by the hunter? how cute. he gets actual confirmation when he was watching you change one night. of course he looked away while you were naked (maybe not), but he saw your bra and completely knew. the next day, he obviously hugged you more to try and egg you on that he knows (and feel you), but don't worry, it doesn't take to long to find out.

okay, so epel felmier though you two were on the same boat. two really pretty men cursed by genetics somehow. but, after he takes you on a magic wheel ride and feels you against him, he realizes he is alone. he's obviously flustered but he feels more manly somehow? he protects you and comes off as manly as possible. surely other guys will see how manly he is if his crush, and the only girl on campus, sees it, right?

when idia shroud found out, he was more than surprised and honestly didn't even think he could face you ever again! with a bit of convincing from his dear little brother, he could face you again. although with pink tinted hair and a red face, he'll still see you! how did he find out exactly? well, he accidentally touched you boob when aiming to punch your shoulder after a won game.

(platonic) a simple body scan gave ortho shroud the answers he needed. ortho is the biggest idia x [name] shipper on the planet! he'll call you 'big sister', and probably lock you in a room with idia if it'll help speed up the love-i-fication process. eventually he'll break the news to his brother, but he loves playing the waiting game with him. is idia getting any closer to finding out? no- wait, yes, wait-!

malleus draconia is an intelligent man. however, to crack this mystery, he'll need every clue and sign laid before him. once he pieces the picture together, he still might need to to clarify that you are in fact a woman. and don't forget, malleus is a gentleman. he'll treat you with love and respect as he courts you, beds you, and makes you his queen.

at some age, you just realize what everyone is, y'know? lilia vanrouge just knows that you're a girl. it probably started out at a gut feeling that ended up true. and maybe he'll let you know that he knows by giving you a cutely wrapped box of matching black and pink panty and bra set! maybe with a rose and a note that says 'be my girl?'

sleepyhead silver realizes completely by accident when he just wanted to lay on your shoulder. next thing you know, you've pulled his head to your thighs and when he tries to look up, he's meet with a new type of pillow. he's conflicted between staying awake or going to sleep upon this newfound discovery. either way, don't think that his sleepiness will prevent him from wanting to be as knightly as possible for you.

sebek zigvolt accidentally unhooks your bra when trying to fix your posture. it's an awkward moment and sebek is surprisingly quiet when he asks you your gender. his loudness returns as he begins yelling about how informal he's been to you. as a servant of his dear master malleus, he promises to treat you with the utmost respect!

[candysunoo]

ೋ◦ ❀❀ enhypen as a

bridgerton story ❀❀ ◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

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ೋ◦dearest gentle-reader ◦ೋ•

❀my name is lady whistledown. you do not know me, and rest assured, you never shall. but be forewarned dear reader, I certainly know you.❀

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❀ now, before we shall begin dear gentle-reader there is something you must know. this author has no rights to the Bridgerton stories/ series. thus all of the following are loosely based on them. this author also does not know any of the boys personally; and thus this is not an accurate portrayal or representation of them and their lively hood. thank you in advance dearest gentle-reader. please enjoy. sincerely, your lady whistledown (aka kei ;D) ❀

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ Lee Heeseung - Queen Charlotte ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

❀❀❀ King Lee Heeseung, 3rd of his name, the ruler of Great Britain and Ireland, your new husband.

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❀❀❀ When your tiny island kingdom falls apart under the scrutiny of the large countries around it your brother has no choice but to marry you off. Marry you off to none other than the King of Great Britain and Ireland. Lee Heesesung ascended the throne young after his father tragically died. Years after finally coming of age, his mother decides it’s time for him to marry and produce the next heir, despite his covertly concealed mental illness. When you arrive it seems as nothing can go your way. From mistakingly talking down to the king after being caught trying to run away, to what was supposed to be your honeymoon night your ladies maid explained. But must you know dearest reader, that love does indeed conquer all and secrets don’t stay secrets for long.

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: may 22nd, 2024❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: strangers - to kinda friends- to lovers, traditional gender roles, 1700’s societal expectations, arranged/ forced marriage, bitchy mother-in-law, mentions of parental death, mentions of mental health and feeling like an outsider, medical malpractice, mention of feeling unloved and trapped in a marriage, SMUT, sex (lots of it), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, put that wiener in a blanket), breeding kink , praise, mention of pregnancy and birth, angst and fluff, idiots in love, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: 11.8k ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

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♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Park Jongseong - The Duke & I ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

❀❀❀ Park Jongseong aka Jay, first of his name, The Duke of Hastings.

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Dearest gentle reader, haven’t you heard? The honorable l/n family is finally debuting the oldest daughter. A vision of beauty, just as her mother was, any young man would be happy to have her on his arm.

That being said being the eldest daughter of eight children can be tough. Especially as you are now of age to enter society. It was exhausting really, the trips to the modieste for the hours of standing for the dropping of hems and the countless arguments between your eldest brother, the head of the family, and your mother. After your father died your brother had become especially protective of you and your other siblings; much to the dismay of your mother. The protectiveness only gets worse when you catch the eye of not only the queen but also a certain Duke who is determined to stay out of the clawing hands of desperate mamas and their daughters.

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: June 08th, 2024 ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: fake dating- to true love, traditional gender roles, 1700’s/1800’s societal expectations, mention of childhood trauma, mention of parental death, small mention of attempted assault (nothing graphic y/n gets forcibly kissed, it does not go into detail), retired manwhore jay, anxiety, traditional courting, mention of fighting/ light violence, forced to married - destined to stay, mention of having children, lies of omission, SMUT, corruption kink, virgin y/n, jay talking you through it, wet dreams, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ Sim Jaeyun - Romancing Mr. Bridgerton ❀❀◦ೋ•

❀❀❀ Sim Jaeyun aka Jake, first of his name, 3rd eldest son of his family, and your longtime friend and crush.

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Dearest gentle-reader, ever since the successful seasons of not only his older brothers but sisters as well all eyes have fallen on the 3rd eldest son of the Sim family. Will this be the season he finds a presentable young lady to hold him down to the mainland; or will he end up on yet another voyage across the sea?

Ever since you can remember you have been friends Sim Hyunjin, the middle daughter of the Sim family. Also since you can remember you have had a massive crush on her younger brother Jaeyun, or as he liked to be called Jake. Everyone who knew you knew that you were nothing less than a soft, quiet, wallflower. Always sticking close to the edge of the room, alone and watching the courting couples dance the night away. Jake was always so kind in that regard; pulling you away from the wall and to the dance floor but never letting it get further. Never officially courting you or even giving you the curtesy of signing your dance card. However when you overhear a conversation not meant for you everything changes. Will Jake be too late to fix what he had broken?

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: ft. Loossemble/ Loona’s Kim Hyunjin as his sister (they share the same birthday lol), friends- to strangers/ acquaintances- to friends again- to lovers, traditional gender roles, 1700’s-1800’s societal expectations, mentions of hard family situations, mentions of feeling alone and like an outsider, reader gets called names (by Jake he doesn’t really mean it?), flirting, jealousy, heartbreak, fights between friends, POSSIBLE SMUT I HAVEN’T DECIDED YET, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Park Sunghoon - The Viscount who Loved Me ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

❀❀❀ Park Sunghoon, first of his name, eldest child of his family, The Viscount. The bane of your existence.

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Dearest gentle-reader, after the ever successful season of his younger sister last year Park Sunghoon has declared himself available to be wed. Making him the most desirable young gentleman of this season. May we wish luck to the other young men, as the nagging mamas and their equally difficult daughters shall be all over the Viscount.

Being the eldest son of a prestigious family was no walk in the park. Especially for Park Sunghoon who had taken over as the head of his family after his father’s tragic death. After the past year his mama had been insistent on him marring. Especially after she found out about a certain opera singer and the way he funded her lifestyle. Entering the marriage market his wasn’t looking for love. He was looking for a woman with at least half a head on her shoulders and child- bearing hips. No need for anything else. He just needed a wife. You and your sister had just arrived in town, sponsored by an old family friend to join this marriage season. Staying with Lady Lee Chae-rin was nothing less than a dream. She was kind and understanding towards you, your sister and your mother. Strong willed and outspoken you were determined to find someone for your sister to wed, if not for her, for your entire family. However what happens when alls not fair in love and war?

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: enemies- to lovers, mention of parental death, traditional gender roles, 1700’s-1800’s societal expectations, arguments, extortion(not by Sunghoon or reader), mentions of family issues, shitty grandparents, rushed engagement, technical cheating (Sunghoon is with readers sister), angst to fluff, Sunghoon is a world class rake, breaking off an engagement SMUT, hate sex, light degradation, some praise, public sex (in a private garden no one else is there)❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ���˚⊹

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Kim Sunoo - An offer from a Gentleman ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

❀❀❀ Kim Sunoo, first of his name, the 2nd son of his prestigious family, an artist, and perhaps your Prince Charming?

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Dearest gentle-reader, love has a funny way of finding its way around the ‘ton. Of course, when there are so many eligible young men and women how could it not? This author happens to think that one of the eligible young men of the ‘ton may find love where he least expects it. Or rather with whom unexpected love comes with.

When your mother died it felt as if the warmth of the universe had gone with her. The flowers no longer grew and the wind no longer sang a tune as it blew. As you approached the age of your debute into society you had some hope. However it was all crushed into small bits when your father married Seo Minhae. The literal devil in disguise. After that her and her ill-mannered daughter moved into and made you a servant in your own home. Pushed out of your room and into the basement, forced to do housework and cook you were treated as nothing. Finally reaching your breaking point you snuck out of the house. Finding yourself at a masquerade ball and in the arms of a tall, slim, dark haired man. Feeling like royalty and like you were on top of the world you had the night of your life. That is until the clock struck midnight.

───── · · ୨୧ · · ─────

ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: strangers- to lovers, Cinderella type content, traditional gender roles, 1700’s - 1800’s societal expectations, mention of parental death, awful evil stepmother and step sisters, running away, slight escapism, mention of depression and slight religious imagery, masquerade ball, reader is implied to be shorter than Sunoo, abrupt abandonment, angst and fluff, SMUT, soft sex, unprotected sex( wrap it before you tap it, put that wiener in a blanket), praise, dirty talk, overall sweet and fluffy, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Yang Jungwon - It’s in His Kiss ❀❀◦ೋ•

❀❀❀ Yang Jungwon, first of his name, an entitled aristocrat just like the rest; but could there possibly be more lurking underneath his greed for inheritance?

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Dearest gentle-reader, the time has come for the youngest daughter of the l/n family to make her debut into society. Though between you and I founder has it that the youngest of the l/n family is too much to handle when it comes to romance. Loud and outspoken one can only hope the youngest will find someone suitable for her.

Yang Jungwon was the eldest child in his family. He was born for greatness. He planned his whole life as he seen fit on the promise of his inheritance. You however were the youngest daughter, loud, outspoken, intelligent and brash. Yang Jungwon could hardly stand you. That is until he needs your help of course. After his father has taken over the family’s business and title he didn’t seem to want to give it up. Yang Jungwon didn’t know what to do with himself. After all what grounds does his father have to deny him his birthright? Finding a journal from his long dead grandfather, Jungwon finds himself in a bind; the journal is written in an entirely different language and could possibly hold the solution for his predicament. However, the only person he knows who can remotely translate it, even if it’s not perfect, is you. The one person his calm and quiet self can not stand to be around for long periods of time.

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: acquaintances- to friends- to lovers, shitty parents, mention of parental death, Jungwon is technically an orphan, threats of disinheriting, mean comments (towards reader not by jungwon), reader is a bit much for Jungwon at times, overall fluffy, heavy petting, make out session, LIGHT SMUT( nothing too in depth just an after scene) MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Nishimura Riki - On the way to the Wedding ❀❀◦ೋ•

❀❀❀ Nishimura Riki aka Niki, first of his name, the youngest son in his family, trapped between the glamorous dream of love at first sight and the harshness of reality.

───── · · ୨୧ · · ─────

Dearest gentle-reader, do you know that true love conquers all? Well this season we are in for a treat, the youngest of the Nishimura family finally has plans on marrying. This old author can’t help but wonder what shenanigans this season will hold.

Nishimura Riki was the youngest of eight children. He had grown up watching all of his sibling find true and meaningful relationships. That was all he wanted for himself. Riki believed in love at first sight. Especially when he saw her Danielle Marsh, your best friend. When his gaze first saw her it was as if he had been struck with Cupid’s arrow. It went so deep in his heart he couldn’t breathe, the entire world was stopped as he watched her from afar. However that didn’t last for long as he witnessed her approach another man, fluttering her eyelashes and giggling at him.

───── · · ୨୧ · · ─────

ೋ◦ ❀❀ expected release date: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: love triangle, love at first sight, unrequited love- to true love, idiots in love, “let me help you help her”, breaking up engagements, mentions of family issues, love confessions in a garden, heavy petting make out session, ‼️NO SMUT‼️, angst with happy ending, MORE TO BE ADDED ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: TBD ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to read here! ❀❀◦ೋ•

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

❀ i hope you all look forward to reading the stories! i‘ll update the content warnings as i finish the stories! please ignore any mistakes i may have made as i will start to go through and correct them! also ignore the bad formatting i did it on mobile 😭 - kei ❀

❀ a taglist has been created you can find that post here! that is the current standing of who will be tagged in the first post. feel free to ask to be added by commenting or sending an ask/ message! ❀

‼️‼️ ©️ @candysunoo 2024 DO NOT copy, repost or translate without permission ‼️‼️

[iceunhie]

latibule.

premise. in which all too many intrusions come in the form of one particular shadow guard. (or, moze always looks to you to patch him up. inexplicably, you let him do so anyway.)

warnings: gn!reader, pining moze but he's too edgy to know, one kimi ni todoke inspired (?) scene, treating injuries, banter (obviously), probably ooc, feixiao cameo, based off of the new quest, kinda mid writing

notes: not proofread i have no excuse i just like him okay???? inspired by @luvether's mozeqiu/reader fic (i love ur works ☹️) ty @lowkeyren for the chinese help!

“You're here again, Moze.”

In the wee hours between 1AM to 3AM, it has become a daily occurence for you to tend to Moze's injuries.

He nods. “I'm here.”

Despite having a perfectly (super) capable healer who attends to even the Lady General personally at her behest, you do not know why Moze always ends up at your window of all things during the ungodly hours of the moon's turn, complete with stupid, easily treatable cuts all across his body.

As General Feixiao's Representative Proxy, such work is not your forte—and rarely do you ever employ your few practiced arts in healing; the result often clumsy and sloppy, just enough to treat the few cuts Moze sports.

Still, it has since become routine to patch Moze up, and despite your insistence that he take care of himself more, the ashy haired man never listens, instead ending up at your home. You wonder if he does this on purpose.

Next time, you think, you're never going to open the windowsill for him again.

You open the windowsill further to let him in. Hypocrite, your mind echoes unhelpfully. Great, you must be losing your mind.

“Got into trouble again, hm?”

His expression tells you that whoever he fought wasn't all that—show-off—internally, you roll your eyes. “...Will you patch me up?”

No, your mind tells you, the words are at the tip of your tongue; you're always sneaking in here at night, and making me go through all this trouble.

(Your actions betray a different tune altogether.)

You don't know when Moze started to make you his personal healer despite Jiaoqiu in the vicinity; a moment of worry led to one thing, and now here you are, Moze's budget Jiaoqiu at home. The thought makes you laugh to yourself. Compared to the foxian, your skills could be described as subpar at best.

(Complaining to your own Lady General was no use. Incredulously, Feixiao believed that it was because—

“You're special.” Feixiao says with a grin. “Is it not obvious that it is because he wishes to see you?”

“What?” Looking at her, your voice is a tired drawl of resignation. “....My Lady, it seems your recent exposure to the Luofu's romance novels have dulled your judgement. Shall I call for Jiaoqiu?”

“Wha- Hey, don't call me senile!” Your Lady General deadpans, “Anyway, I'm telling you, Moze likes you!”)

“Why is it always me?” you grumble under your breath, though it doesn't escape Moze's ears.

It's good that you don't expect an answer; if Moze had to be honest, he doesn't know why he always goes to you either.

“Why wouldn't it be you?” Moze says, not missing a beat.

Your cheeks warm, the heat crawling up your neck from his audacious words. Jeez, he really doesn't know his effect on people, did he?

“...Not to mention, Jiaoqiu is asleep.”

Never mind. “Know the shame.”

“I don't wish to disturb Jiaoqiu as well.”

“Oh, so you see it fit to bother me but don't bother with Jiao-gege?”

“You'll live.” Moze blinks. Frowns. “Wait, did you just call him... gege?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Yes, what about it?”

“Since when were you two so close?”

“Mm, since a certain guard stops by my home at twilight hour?”

“....”

Sighing, your hands are nimble against the bandages, looping the white cloth in your palm and dabbing at the corners of Moze's face, gentle. Up close, his face is all sharp edges and harsh lines. Whether he notices how you gulp when you approach closer, swiping the cloth along his lower lip, he holds his tongue, for fear of disturbing whatever it was, permeating between the two of you like a thick haze, afraid of destroying the peaceful silence.

He watches, instead, as you scrub away the little bit of blood on his cheek.

You're talking; something about him being too reckless, taking care of himself more, yet he finds that he can't catch a word of what you're saying, focusing only on one thing.

Your hands are warm.

Heat creeps up to his neck like coiling vines, twisting his stomach, all because of you. Moze's heart thrums, breath stolen away—you're so close, it's unbearable—and he fights to keep himself even remotely neutral. All because of you.

“Moze?”

What are you doing to him? Why does he always come back to you? Is he sick?

“You're burning up.” You press your hand against his neck; and funnily enough, the thought of leaning into your touch crosses Moze's mind—it's maddening how much he wants to do so.

Blinking once, Moze looks to find you pulling away, and before he can think of it, his fingers wrap around your wrist in an iron grip, carefully maintained distance discarded.

“...?”

“Ah, wait, it's fine— Just—” don't pull away.

What?

Moze coughs. “Just continue.”

The night's breeze flows throughout your home; the chuang kou is wide open, with Moze looking less like General Feixiao's most trusted aide and more akin to an obedient dog. It's humiliation, Moze thinks—but when it was you, his dignity could be in tatters for all he cares.

Your eyes soften, just a bit, “If you say so.”

Inexplicably, relief assaults Moze's senses like a balm to his soul. Because the idea of being perceived, heard—by you—affects him in a dizzying, confounding way, and he knows not how to cure such an ailment whose only cure is your presence.

And maybe, just maybe, it's why he can never stop returning to you. Let you think him a fool, an idiot—so as long as he ends up at your window, by your side, it's a small price to pay.

“Okay.” he affirms, loosening his grip, (never you, though) finally letting you finish patching him up as you plaster what remains of the white bandages upon his face.

Noticeably, he doesn't let go of your hand.

“Okay.” you echo, and finally, you're finished with your work. The sight of Moze all bandaged up perfectly and finally getting to sleep makes you happier than you should be, the prospect of sleep way too enticing.

“There, all done. Take care of yourself better next time, 'kay?”

He hums, “I'll keep that in mind.”

“You sure you will?”

“Yes.” Moze looks at you, and he looks at you like it would be a sin of the greatest kind to take his eyes of off you; holding your presence in his irises, emulating you deeply onto his pupils, his tendons and his limbs. “I will.”

(How could he ever not listen to you?)

You release him, much to Moze's reluctance—opening the closed chuang kou. The night breeze welcomes Moze, kissing his skin, with the colors of the rising sun beginning to rise, vibrancy in the darkness of the inky night.

“...Moze?” you call, in the corner of your eye, seeing him already putting a foot on the rooftop.

“Jeez, if you wanted to see me that much, just tell me instead of going through all this trouble, really....” you mumble, glad that your back is turned from him, lest he sees the heat dusting your cheeks. You know Moze has probably left, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Well, you'll bring it up another time, then. Something tells you he'll listen, this time.

This time, you don't ignore the flutter of the butterflies in your stomach.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(“Jeez, if you wanted to see me that much, just tell me instead of going through all this trouble, really....”

In the darkened corner of shadow, a figure slumps disgracefully with a loud thud. Using a hand to grip the side of the wall, nothing can compare to the burning heat crawling up Moze's skin, positively flushed.

Moze puts a hand to his face, slumping further to a near kneel.

It's warm—just like the ghostly feeling of your hands upon his skin minutes prior.

Maybe he'll take you up on your offer.)

a/n: sorry for the long sporadic activity :,D this is what a chuang kou looks like btw

[scientia-rex]

I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.

I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.

You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)

I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)

Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.

The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

suguru’s knuckles are tainted with blood.

oftentimes, you think of yourself as supportive — supportive of him, his passions, supportive of the career he chose. you’d really, really like to think so. 

moments like these make it difficult to say that with conviction.

(he won, of course. suguru always wins.)

but his knuckles are bruised, splotches of purple and blue seeping into the skin, split and dripping with droplets of red. it smudges your palms, when you reach out to take his hand into yours; warm, trickling slowly down the valley between your fingers.

your brows furrow, in badly concealed worry. suguru notices, because he always does.

“don’t worry,” he says, voice a soothing salve to your heart. honeyed, like a coo is resting at the tip of his tongue, waiting to be let out. “it doesn’t hurt.”

he’s lying. you know he’s lying. wounds like these hurt, no matter who you are — even if you’re 6’3, all muscle, a professional boxer with several trophies under your belt. even if your hands are big enough to cover your lover’s like a warm blanket, envelop them wholly, the way he’s doing now; wiping the bloodtrail away with his thumb. even then, it hurts to bleed.

(don’t worry.)

”… how could i not?”

suguru softens. his eyes, still gleaming with the afterglory of victory, crumble with warmth, with fondness. it makes him look a bit like an angel.

his hands, meant to ground you, withdraw for a moment — one of them slipping down to capture your wrist. he leans forward, and presses his lips against your fingers, your knuckles, right up to the center of your hand. softly, chastely.

(he always does this, bends down to reach you. there’s never any need to chase him.)

”i’m sorry,” he murmurs, breath hot against your skin. forehead still damp with sweat, glistening under the dim lights of the locker room. you tuck a sticky strand of raven hair behind his ear, and he smiles. ”that was a mean thing to say.”

”it was,” you agree, gaze still stuck on the bruising.

a raspy chuckle leaves his lips. “forgive me, sweetheart,” he exhales a softened breath, leaving the ridges of your knuckles. ”i won’t tell you how to feel. just don’t want you anxious, you know that.”

”… of course i’d be anxious,” you can’t help but mutter, struggling to keep your spite at bay; lips curling down into a frown. ”you’re hurt.”

”barely,” he soothes you, massaging your hands with his big palms. you should tell him to stop, to just let his busted hands rest, but it feels too good. ”i’ll be fine. and i gave you a good show, didn’t i?”

you snort. ”a little too good…”

suguru breathes out a chuckle, and you can’t help but smile. remembering his form, his punches and jabs, the fire in his low-lidded eyes — it’s always a treat to see him in the zone, even if it leaves you sick with worry. and when he gets truly heated, sweat running down his abs, heavy pants leaving his lips in time with his dodges…

well.

it’s hard to hate it. hard not to enjoy it. even though you have to close your eyes, every time he takes a hit. 

”made you proud?” he asks, awfully polite for a plea. leaning closer, a magnet to your touch, bare thigh brushing against your own. tilting his head, with a softness the average person wouldn’t think him capable of. he’s anything but gentle, in the ring.

he’s silly for asking.

”of course,” you whisper, letting him come as close as he wants. his lips are inching closer to yours, and you say the words without thinking. it’s instinct, muscle memory, you don’t have to try. ”always. you did so well, suguru...”

a hum. low, pleased, buzzing at the base of his throat. his eyes flutter shut, smile creeping up his lips, and you know it does more for him than you’ll ever know — living up to your expectations.

”did you think i was cool?”

a breathy giggle spills from your lips. he cracks a single eye open, pouting, leaning closer still; as if the distance between you could kill him. breath ghosting against your teeth, a shiver trailing down your spine.

”’m serious.”

”of course i did,” you huff, eyes bright with laughter, lips melting into a grin. ”of course you are. pretty sure my knees buckled, once or twice.”

now he’s laughing, and it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard — breathy and raspy, like a trail of smoke, going straight into your lungs. he closes the distance between you, then, still chuckling slightly. grinning, teeth against teeth, stars lighting up his eyes. 

your bruised up angel. 

(yours to patch.)

”let me see,” you mumble, pulling away from the clumsy kiss, fleeing from his hands at the same time. wrapping yours around his, instead; the warmth doesn’t have time to leave him. you examine his purple knuckles, once more, still leaking crimson. ”does it hurt when you move your fingers?”

he tries to close his fist, testing the limits, not quite making the cut. unfurling his fingers, one by one, with a low hum. ”just a bit… feels more numb, really.”

a crease forms between your brows. two sharp teeth digging into the skin of your bottom lip, as you mutter. “… did you already take painkillers?”

”coach gave me some,” he nods, untangling his fingers from yours — lifting just one hand up, bringing his thumb to your forehead, to smooth away the worried crease. ”i barely feel it, anymore. really.”

you wish it was enough to put your heart at ease. but it’s still restless, still trembling, puppeteered by the anxious thread that keeps it tethered to your veins. 

”… and you know i’m used to it,” he adds, smiling sweetly, hand slipping down to cup your cheek. tugging a little at your lip, silently urging you not to bite down on the tender flesh. ”you don’t care, though… do you? my little sweetheart.”

(… uh oh. he’s shifting into mother hen mode.)

you breathe out a sigh, standing up from the bench, before he can start babying you properly. unfurling your fingers from his, reluctantly, not really wanting to let go. ”i’ll clean it. c’mon.”

suguru simply smiles, tilting his head to the right, disheveled bangs following along. fully aware of his own charm, when he’s like this, sweaty and tuckered out — chest exposed, droplets dripping down his stomach, stopping near the trail of hair just below his belly button. you could do without the injuries, but he’s still lethal like this. eyes gleaming with pride, something pleased, when he notices your lingering gaze. you clear your throat, and his smile grows.

when you step away, suguru gets up too. trailing after you, like an overgrown puppy, all the way to the sink, dirty with rust — this venue is older than what you’re used to from his sponsors. but it’s fully functional, cold water spurting out the tap and running through the gaps between your fingers.

you adjust it, until it’s almost lukewarm, and put your hand out towards suguru.

he places his palm over yours.

then you bring it right under the tap. both of them, eventually, watching as the blood gets washed off his fingers and trickles down the drain — a murky spiral, muddying the clear water. you clean the wound as thoroughly as you can, with a wet cloth, without putting too much pressure on the bruising.

suguru gazes at you all the while. waiting.

he’s always been good at it.

”… there,” you exhale, a gust of anxiety leaving your lungs. the pressure on your chest feels lighter, but it’s not enough; your hands start digging through your pockets, through band-aids adorned with sunflowers, a blister pack of paracetamol, fingers curling around a roll of bandages. his very own first-aid kit, always within reach.

without you having to ask, he holds his hands out. letting you work in silence, wrap the bandage around his hand — beginning at the inside of his wrist, twice around, moving up diagonally to the bottom of his ring finger. around, around, making sure it’s not too tight, but firm enough to help. before long, both his hands are covered in cotton gauze, the bruising nowhere to be seen. you can’t help but feel better, even though you know it’s still there.

when you look up, into your fiancé’s eyes, his eyes are crinkled at the edges. he looks terribly fond.

”… thank you, honey.”

(your angel, the inside of your mind repeats. your precious boy.)

his hands radiate warmth, gently cradled by your own. his heart pumping fiercely, hot blood flowing through his veins, even below the coverage. you let out something like a coo, a caring little noise, leaning forward — tipping your head down. you press your lips against his patched-up knuckles, all of them, and you can practically hear the hitch of his breath.

you kiss him with all the care you can muster. like the wounds will disappear, if you cover them in love.

suguru can’t bear it.

”angel,” he musters, and you want to correct him, but you know he wouldn’t pay it any mind. ”look at me?”

you do. drawn to him, a flicker of light, gazing up at him through lidded eyes. he cups the right side of your jaw, and leans in close — one kiss to your cheek.

then another.

”you’re too sweet,” he murmurs, almost agonized. ”too sweet to me, i don’t deserve it.”

you should smack him for that. you won’t, though.

”… you do,” is all you say, shoulders slumping just a little, a breathy exhale slipping past your pursed lips. ”you deserve it. and your knuckles do, too.”

an amused huff of air, ghosting against the skin of your neck as he travels down. leaving a trail of butterfly kisses behind him. ”do they? after they made you all worried…”

”because someone doesn’t look after them properly,” you scoff, smiling all the while, squirming when his lips meet your pulse-point. ”don’t blame your poor hands for your career choice, they didn’t ask for this.”

suguru laughs, and you can practically feel it; his chest rumbling along, like a joyous thunderstorm.

”sorry,” he murmurs, pulling back to look you in the eye, his own sparkling with delight. ”you’re right… good thing they have you to look after them, hm?”

”mhm.”

another little breath of a laugh. he reaches for your head, fingers threading through your locks, ruffling your tousled hair with a cotton-clad hand. gently.

”well, i’m sure they’re very grateful, too.” he gives you a smile, and it burns straight through your lungs — almost piercing, in this dim corner of the room. ”we’re lucky to have you, sweetheart.”

a small grin tugs at your lips. at his praise, his attention, just the way he looks at you. suguru has a way of burning brighter than anyone else, even in a crowded room, a turbulent boxing ring. your eyes remain on him, him, him, and it isn’t just his stature, his broad shoulders. it’s his charisma, blinding, a bullet in a loaded gun — the click just before your finger meets the trigger. it demands attention.

(you couldn’t look away, even if you wanted to.)

silence stretches, unwinds, settles somewhere in the space between you. it’s comfortable, being in the same space as him, just resting idly, with his hand falling down to rest at your back. your heart at ease, safe and protected. both of you.

before long, you’re reaching for his face. peaceful, but still gleaming with something like pride, a little sticky with the residue of sweat. his chest moves, the fat of his pecs lifted up, and down, in tandem with his steady breathing. the back of your fingers meet his skin, running against the apple of his cheek. 

”… congratulations,” you whisper, soft with pride, even fiercer than what he must be feeling. ”… on another victory, suguru.”

and his eyes soften, again — inevitable, bleeding heart between battered ribs. he smiles, looking at you like you’re the prize he’s bringing home. 

”for you,” he croons. ”always for you.”

(he’s too sweet; but you already know. he always looks right at you, after the finishing blow.)

suguru leans into your touch, and puts his hand over yours, and you think to yourself that he hasn’t changed at all — in all the years you’ve known him. he’s still that bright-eyed, fire-in-his-veins kinda guy, still just as tender as he’s always been. bruised knuckles, bloodied hands, and all. when he asked you out, he made a promise to protect you — your knight in shining armour, always there to keep you safe.

you’d thought him a bit of an idealist. a romantic. 

but that’s the thing, about suguru, about everything he does. he doesn’t know how to sweep memories under the rug, how to love people without wanting to bleed for them, without tearing himself open and letting them see inside. he doesn’t know how to love in a way that doesn’t feel a little like a blow, and he keeps his promises the same way he catches a swinging fist with his palm; without trying.

you don’t think there’s a language that could hold his love. that could translate it properly.

(maybe boxing is all there really is.)

“… are you tired?” you ask him, after a brief pause, lightly pinching the fat of his cheek between your fingers. watching his nose scrunch up. “wanna go home and sleep?”

“yes, please,” he mutters, a weak smile and a soft groan. “feels like my knees are about to buckle.”

you let out a laugh, raspy with the same fatigue he must be feeling, only tenfold. “oh? what happened to the tough guy act, all of a sudden?”

“i’m always your tough guy,” he tuts, but it doesn’t sound very confident when he has to stifle a yawn in the same breath. nuzzling into your palm, like a sleepy kitten. “tough guys need their rest, too…”

a soft, sleepy grin. “especially tough guys who have been throwing their fists around all day, huh?”

“especially those, yes,” he hums, eyes fluttering shut. “those guys need some extra care.”

“i’ll have to pamper you, won’t i?” you wouldn’t mind at all. he only gives you the chance when he’s a little too exhausted to pretend he doesn’t need it. “make you tea, tuck you into bed? kiss you goodnight?”

at that, he lets out a weak scoff. cracking an eye open, a single slice of amber dye, gleaming with amusement. “extra care. not coddling, angel.”

“oh, don’t be like that,” you coo, almost letting a bout of laughter slip between your teeth. pinching his cheek, again, while he feigns a little frown. “you’re my tough guy, aren’t you? you can take it.”

a breath bubbles up from his throat, too sleepy to be a proper giggle, but dangerously close. dangerous for your heart, the adoration already urging you to pinch his cheek again, maybe bite his exposed chest a bit. he’s so cute it makes you angry. the cutest, most gentle boxer in the world.

“if you say so,” he hums, and you know he craves some pampering if he’s already relenting this early. “what the baby wants, the baby gets.”

“exactly.” your smile is so big it’s hurting your cheeks, but you can’t help it when you look at him. “and my baby wants to go home, doesn’t he?”

a huff. he can’t hide a smile, either. “ah, now you’re just upsetting me on purpose, aren’t you?”

he says that, but his hand still finds yours, fumbles for it in the dark. cotton gauze on warm skin. he squeezes it, gently, and then it’s moving again — curling around your waist, guiding you towards the exit, his jacket hanging on the coat rack. made of wool, a little oversized, even on him. he drapes it over his shoulders, dragging the zipper up to his neck.

then his hand finds your waist, again. 

when you pull the door open, cold air flows into your lungs — a tingle down your spine, the tips of your fingers, cool and crispy autumn air. the dark sky greets you, suguru’s car parked just outside. before you can even shiver, he’s tugging you closer.

“don’t worry,” he whispers, squeezing you against him, eyes rich with care. “i’ll warm you up, sweetheart. just stay close.”

he gives you another blinding smile, the lamp post above you like a halo over his head. breathtaking. your angel, your protector — your big, wooly wolf. 

suguru keeps his promises. he holds your hand, all the way through the car ride home, bandaged skin on top of yours. he melts the cold around your heart, melts all your worries away. supportive, always.

you want to be the same, for him. a pillar of support, something to lean on — a hand to hold, a roll of bandages, a rock to ground his unsteady feet. you want to be there for him, watching him shine. there to meet his eyes, when they search for yours after a narrow victory. there to give him the love he needs.

if he’s the bruise, then you’re the disinfectant.

(you’ll be there, to patch him up.)

[everyonewooeverywhere]

MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing ✭ bf!mingi x afab!reader

synopsis ✭ facesitting w/ pinkgi

content/genre ✭ smut 18+ MDNI

word count ✭ 853

note ✭ the voices won

warnings ✭ none really. a lot of talk about thighs (mingi loves thighs 🙂‍↕️), facesitting, multiple orgasms, ambiguous ending

✭ ✭ ✭

Mingi loved staying over at your place. He loved seeing the little items you had on your shelves that showed off your personality and interests. He loved lounging in your bed, breathing in your distinct scent from your sheets. And he fucking loved watching you walk out of the bathroom with damp hair and your body wrapped in a fluffy towel. Your skin, still slightly damp, reflecting the dim light from the lamp on your nightstand.

He watched from your bed as you rummaged through the dresser looking for a sleep shirt, shamelessly palming his dick through his sweats and biting his lip when you dropped the towel to slip the shirt over your head. 

When you moved over to the nightstand to grab underwear, he rolled from the middle of the bed to your side, swinging his legs off the edge.

Before you could even grab a pair of panties though, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you between his legs. 

“Hi,” you giggled at his eager attitude.

He hummed, “Hi baby.” His fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

You ran a hand through his hair, freshly dyed. “I like the new color.”

“Yeah?” He looked up at you with big eyes, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Well, I like you in any color,” His eyelids fluttered when you scratched his scalp, “But pink does suit you really well.”

“Thank you,” He was no longer looking up into your eye, though. You watched as he admired your thighs. Palming at them and massaging them with his hands.

You smiled and bit your lip, “Mingi.”

He only gave you a little hum of acknowledgement.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Will you let me sit on your face?”

That caught his attention. He brought his eye back to yours. “Really?”

You nodded.

“Fuuuck, baby,” He groaned, “Yeah. Please.”

—--

Being between your thighs was a fucking dream. In fact from the moment he took you out on your first date, he couldn’t help but imagine himself between those thighs. The way they’d looked under that black miny dress had his mind spinning.

He just never thought you’d ask him for this. He’d dreamt about it over and over and over again, but absolutely nothing could compare to the way you dripped all over his mouth and chin. You tasted fucking heavenly on his tongue.

The groan he let out when you pulled at his pink strands pulsed through you, causing you to whimper and grind down harder on his face. 

Even when you tried to lift yourself up off of him to give him a breath, he wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you back down. Your control over your legs dwindled as he kept pleasuring you with his tongue. He took full advantage of that and held you in place so he could have full uninterrupted access to your pussy. 

He fucking loved how vocal you were too. Whining and begging for more. Not even fully aware of what sounds came out of your mouth. He had you on his face for so long that you lost control of your words. Just needlessly begging for yet another orgasm. 

Neither of you knew how many times you’d come, but he fucking died every time your legs clenched up as squeezed his head as you came. And then you’d fall back onto his mouth where his tongue was waiting to toy with your swollen clit. 

And he’d do it over and over again. Your pleasure was his pleasure. Every whimper you made went straight through his ear and to his dick. And every time you came he got closer and closer to heaven. And each time he got closer the less controlled he became. He went from meticulously switching between sucking your clit and fucking you with his tongue to aimlessly grinding you over his face hoping that you’d come all over him (and you did).

For one last orgasm, he brought a thumb to your clit, so desperately rubbing your clit one final time. When you came, your thighs engulfed his head, pressing his ears and nearly crushing his skull. After you’d ridden his tongue through your high, you sat back on his chest, holding yourself up slightly with a hand beside his head.

Both of your breaths were heavy and erratic. Trying to make up for the loss of oxygen on both sides. 

“I think–fuck,” He still could hardly breath, “Shit.” He reached a hand behind you and palmed his, now softening, dick. 

“Holy shit,” you laughed breathlessly, “You came untouched.”

He nodded. “I don’t think you understand how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Yeah?” You teased, “So, if I asked you for another round tomorrow, you wouldn’t be opposed?”

“Fuck baby,” he groaned. “Not at all.”

“Ok, perfect. Because there’s something else I wanna try.”

He bit his lip at the suspense, but, fuck, he’d let you do anything you ever wanted to him. So it didn’t matter what little ideas you had floating in your head. He was ready for all of them.

[smutinlove]

ᴊᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴛᴏᴅᴅ—ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ

—You know what this is. For my fellow Jason Todd lovers, this is for you.

✯A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

This man can either be rough or soft. But most of the time, he is rough. But he also loves taking care of you. After sex, he'd run a bath for you or give you a well-deserved massage while whispering something along the lines of, "You did so good, love."

✯B = Body part (His favorite body part of yours)

He is a total thigh man. He loves your thighs. Jason loves seeing you wear short shorts that show off your thighs. He also loves it when you sit down and your thighs quadruple in size. It always gets him in the mood.

✯C = Consent (He's a gentleman)

He will NEVER do anything to you without asking first. Jason would hate to see you hurt, especially if he hurt you. He couldn't live with himself if he were the one that hurt you.

✯D = Dirty secret (Very obvious)

Whenever you're out or not around, he'll raid your closet and masturbate using a piece of your clothing. (He is a major horndog)

✯E = Experience (How experienced is he?)

He's had a few flings and hookups before he died. He's experimented with a few things. (Toys etc..) He's a very experienced person. Jason's a quick learner when it comes to you as well. He knows what you feel uncomfortable and comfortable with.

He's occasionally asked Dick or Bruce for advice as well. (Bruce would probably avoid the question and say he needs to go on patrol or something. But Dick would definitely answer and questions from Jason.)

✯F = Favorite position

Missionary. He loves seeing you squirm and moan beneath him while he fucks you until you can't walk straight. And if he's in an extra special mood (jealous/angry) his hands suddenly find their way to your neck, giving you a rough squeeze and ramming into you like it's his last day on earth.

✯G = Goofy (Is Jason more serious or just goofy?)

It depends on Jason's mood. Sometimes he'll make jokes and tease you. But mostly, he's serious and into the moment. And when he's angry or frustrated, he always feels better when he hears you scream his name and moan.

✯H = Hair (Does the carpet match the drapes?)

Jason keeps himself neat. He occasionally has a bit of facial stubble. And he may or may not have a bush down there. But if you want him to shave, he will. He's good like that.

✯I = Intimacy (How is he during the moment? Romantic aspect)

I feel like Jason would get a bit uncomfortable when he feels vulnerable. But during sex, he's definitely more rough and does his best to ask how you are.

Jason struggles with showing his emotions and expressing his feelings, but it's something he's working on.

But when you're not having sex, he knows you. Jason is great at reading your feelings. He knows what you want and don't want. He will always want to make you happy and remind you that you're loved.

✯J = Jacking off

(Mentioned in dirty secrets) He really only does it when you're not around. Most of the time, you are the number one thing on Jason's mind, causing him to get hard and have to do something about it.

✯K = Kinks

Size kink - He has a major size kink. He's around 6 feet and he loves the feeling of being bigger than you. He loves towering over you and randomly picking you up, feeling your figure against his chest.

Choking - After he was thrown into the lazarus pit, his grew. A lot. He became stronger as well. He loves the feeling of having control over you. The way you squirm under his grasp makes him feel powerful.

Orgasm denial - He loves to see you beg. Jason wants you begging for even the slightest bit of release. It makes him

✯L = Location (Fav place)

He isn't picky. He will bend you over a sink at your local Arby's if it meant he could fuck you. But Jason loves fucking you in the shower. Him seeing you squirming and moaning under him as he fucks you in a tight secluded space does something to him in so many ways.

✯ M = Motivation (What turns him on)

Jealousy. He absolutely hates it when you talk to other men. He's very possessive over you. The idea of you even taking a small liking to ANYONE pisses him off.

Arguing/bickering. This man loves chaos. It's his natural home. And whenever you two fight, it gets him hard. And that leads to angry makeup sex.

✯N = No (Turns offs)

Gun/knife play - NEVER. He would hate to put you under that kind of thing. Jason would never dream of hurting you. And he grew up in one of Gotham's crime alleys. He knows all the disgusting things that happen.

Threesomes are a no. He hates sharing, especially when it comes to you. The slightest thought of it angers him. He also does not want anyone else to look at you.

✯O = Oral (Preferences in giving receiving, skill, etc..)

This man knows how to eat pussy. He'd eat you out like it's his last meal. He's good at it. He knows what makes you scream. But Jason also doesn't mind being given head. He teases you, calling you a "good girl" and he praises you when you swallow his come.

✯P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and gentle?)

It'd depend on his mode really. But he likes to fuck you hard, but he knows how much you can take. He'll definitely hold your hand. And later on, he'll run you a bath and take care of you.

✯Q = Quickie (his opinion, how often etc..)

He'll never say no to a quickie if you two are down bad. But Jason prefers to take his time with you. He wants you screaming and begging for release. He just loves to tease and make fun of you.

✯R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's not much of a risk-taker. (He def can't be an entrepreneur.) If you want him to try something new, you'd have to beg. And it would take a long time for him to actually warm up to it. He'd be okay to use restraints if it's okay with you. But he would never put himself in a submissive position.

✯S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go? how long?)

It would depend on his mood, really. He could definitely go for a round or two if it's just casual sex. But if he's angry or jealous? You will not be able to walk for a few days minimum.

✯T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them? do they use them on their partner?)

Jason would NEVER use them on himself. He hates feeling submissive and losing control. But on you? Definitely. I feel like he would definitely use handcuffs on you just to stop you from moving your hands so much when he's devouring your cunt.

✯U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Jason motherfucking Todd is the biggest tease ever. He will touch you everywhere but where you want him too. He wants you begging for him. Jason wants you screaming his name, begging him to touch you where you want him too.

✯V = Volume (how loud they are, etc...)

Jason isn't really loud. You'll hear an occasional grunt or low moan coming from him. But he will definitely pull your hair and give you an occasional reminder that HE is the one pounding into you.

✯W = Wild card (random headcanon for character)

Jason wants to dominate you. Period.

✯X = X-ray (what's happening under those clothes?)

his cock is def 8-9 inches. no explanation needed.

✯Y = Yearning (sex drive)

Jason definitely has a high sex drive. He would definitely fuck you all day.

✯Z = Zzz (sleep)

He doesn't fall asleep until you do. He wants to make you feel comfortable and protected. He's a gentleman (most of the time) frr.

»»————<3———-««

im def going back into my jason todd phase. maybe i'll do one for dick and bruce. <3

anyway this took so long to write and im tired. VERY TIRED. maybe jason can tuck me into bed and give me a kiss?

[hotpotatopotat]

Why I don't think Shigaraki or his legacy is over.

I don't normally do canon delves but I am compelled as a Tomura fan to dissect the final battle. This isn't a post on whether it's good or bad, but observations on what's been told.

Shigaraki's crux has always been that he feels like no one can possibly understand what he is trying to accomplish, that his message and suffering is pushed under the rug, and that society is so rotten there's nothing to be done. Deku's goal is to try and understand this.

When Deku breaks through in mha417, Tomura challenges him on this. What would even change if you saw what happened to me? What would you even DO about it? Deku declares to the one person that needs it most: To reach out and give you peace, and "that is why...I am here"

But... When given the chance to go back to a time when he was happy, Tenko chooses not to. "Nah." he says. I think this is often overlooked, but Tomura didn't WANT to leave behind everything he's done.

Tomura says, even if you got rid of my hatred, even if you succeed in "saving me", it doesn't change the fact that I still believe in the future I'm fighting for, to destroy. The villains need a hero, the suffering needs to end, and things need to change.

Hang on to that for a moment. All for One shows up. He mocks him, his dream, his goals, claiming that they weren't real, that they weren't his, that his heart doesn't matter, that none of it does. He's evil.

All for One does kill Tomura here... or at least he would have....

With Deku's final blow, he ignites any remaining embers, Shigaraki, included. They land the final blow to All for One. Without that spark, and without Nana having saved Tomura from fading away, he wouldn't have been able to do this. Tomura would have died before.

Tomura's vestige is still decaying away, and he laments the fact that maybe...he wasn't more than the crying kid Deku said he was. He couldn't do anything. He didn't even destroy Deku's hands. His dreams are over.

Izuku says that he wanted to stop the cycle of grief and suffering. Tomura gives him a soft "hah..." This is such a cathartic moment for them, because I believe that Tomura finally feels understood. He's actually quite relieved.

Strangely, Tomura is soft here. He's not decaying away anymore, he's solid, he's wearing his old shirt. He's NOT the same. He declares how he wants to be remembered, as the one who never stopped fighting to change the world. Izuku says, it's already been...but...

In mha424, Tomura instantly challenges this. With a giant smirk, he tells Deku that he better do his damn best to make sure that things change. It depends on the choices that he continues to make, not the conclusion of one battle.

424 feels like a giant wink wink nudge nudge for the reader. Deku is dissatisfied with not getting that instant gratification of "saving" Tenko, just like after a final battle, he won't get the instant gratification of changing the world. We don't get the gratification either.

But honestly, I really do believe that Deku will carry on Shigaraki's legacy and internalize it just like All Might's.

One final thing... You see his hair change textures. Left to right, It's decaying like in the final form, it's defined and stringy like in his early days, and it's airy and blocked like in his liberation days. This is such guardian angel energy, I swear.

I don't think this is the last we will see of him. And if it is, at least physically the last we see of him, I'm happy Deku will carry on what was truly in Tomura's heart.

[traumxrei-archive]

【 death scares 】

prompt #6: Oh, Great Seven, he thought they were going to die. Please don’t ever scare him like that again (ft. sebek zigvolt, jade leech, leona kingscholar)

gn! prefect (you/yours), drabbles, word count: 1.6k

a/n: hello, i finished my research proposal so i have time before my next deadline to post this >:DD it's angsty asf, but i made sure that it was hurt/comfort so dw i gotchu guys ^^

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek wasn't someone who usually got scared. He knew better than to succumb to such feelings that all but interfered with one's ability to act. It was one of the things he learned when he was training to be one of the Young Master's guards.

But when he saw you dangling from a broom midair, Sebek felt all the hairs on his arms raise. You were barely holding on, and he could see everyone shouting in alarm from where you were.

If you fell, then you would...

Sebek gritted his teeth, "Give me one of your brooms, humans!" His voice boomed over all the commotion, turning heads.

The person nearest to him stuttered, "But brooms are only meant to hold one perso—"

"Does that matter?" Sebek grabbed the broom out of the other's hands. "If you don't do anything, that human is going to fall!"

He hopped onto the broom, flying to where you were before shouting, "Human! You need to let go and get on my broom!"

"I can't!" You cried, your arms shaking with effort. "You'll get hurt, Sebek!"

"Human, I am ten times more durable than you," Sebek said as calmly as he could, bringing his broom closer to yours. "If I fell from this height and got hurt, it'd be an insult to the Young Master!"

"Sebek!"

"What is it?"

"Promise you won't get mad?"

"I can't," Sebek watched as your fingers started to slip. "But I'll promise we won't fall."

It was at that moment when you fell. He felt his broom shift under your weight, and he strained to reinforce it with magic.

But you were here.

You were safe, and that was all that mattered to Sebek. He could feel the pounding of your heart against his back where you clutched onto his uniform.

"What were you thinking?" Sebek ranted, his anger finally surfacing as they made their way to the ground. "Human, I'll have you know that you could've died or been seriously injured!"

"Not only that," Sebek turned to face you. "The fact that— You're...crying...?"

You held on to one of his sleeves, the tears dripping onto the grass below, "I'm s-sorry, Sebek, I didn't mean to...to do that, it just—"

Sebek sighed, resting a hand on your shoulder, "It is alright. You are safe now, human, I was just—" Worried...? Worried? The Sebek Zigvolt, worried about a mere human? But really, who was he kidding? You weren't just a mere human to Sebek, were you?

"I didn't want to see you hurt, is all," He finished lamely. And he could see your eyes sparkling— this time not with unshed tears. Great Sevens, what kind of feeling was currently strangling his heart? Was it...fondness?

Sebek felt his ears warm, quickly brushing off the blooming feelings in his heart, "I-It would be best to get your hands checked out, I shall take you to the nurse!"

You smiled at that. A small smile, but to Sebek it meant the world. He continued on, rambling about broom safety as he led you to the infirmary. If it meant that you were smiling and not crying anymore, then Sebek would more than gladly fill up the silence with his voice.

Jade Leech

Of all the things to happen today, he didn't think watching you put yourself in mortal peril was going to be one of them. Jade swallowed, trying to clear the stuffy feeling that seemed to sufuse his whole body.

He was waiting for you outside of the infirmary, the initial shock after the accident having finally subsided. Still, he couldn't get the picture of your body lying prone on the ground out of his mind.

"It was due to incorrect ratios," The nurse had said. "The alchemy potion had turned into a potent airborne poison. And if you had arrived any later..."

Jade didn't want to think about that part.

But soon enough, the nurse called him in. As he walked up to your bed, he couldn't bring himself to speak first. You weren't watching him, clearly focused on trying to open your water bottle.

"Let me," Jade's voice escaped him, and he saw your eyes widen when you saw him. He opened the bottle, handing it back to you without another word.

"Thank you."

Jade didn't know what else to say, his eyes following you as you drank. His mind brought back the image of you being unnaturally still. It was morbid. The thought made him sick, yet he couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Jade-senpai," You met his gaze and he felt his throat constrict. "Are you...mad at me?"

Jade felt his lips twitch, "Why, pray tell, would I be mad?"

"I...I'm sorry, I wasn't being careful enough," You bit your lip, and he couldn't bear to be upset with you any longer. He sighed, taking a seat beside you.

He very slowly slipped off his glove, talking all the while, "Next time you find yourself having to do an alchemy assignment alone, do invite me."

"But you're busy," There was clear hesitation in your voice, even as his hand tentatively held yours.

"Kind to a fault," Jade said shakily, feeling unsteady now that he could feel the warmth of your skin against his own. "There's no need for that. Your safety is more important, and I would gladly spend time with you. At least next time take one of your friends with you just...just in case." Jade pressed his lips together. He didn't mean to nag. He didn't mean to talk much at all, but the sight of you pried all his feelings out him so effortlessly. He really couldn't win against you.

And like you knew exactly what he wanted to hear, you smiled, "I'm okay now. See?" Your palm cupped over his, bringing his fingers to rest against your neck. And sure enough, he could feel your pulse thrumming under his fingers.

Jade closed his eyes before opening them again, "Right. Now then, I will be overseeing your recovery from now on." He clapped, his magic swirling through the air to tug your blankets into a more acceptable state.

"Wait, what–"

"I'll contact your friends to let you rest for now."

"No, senpai, wait–"

"Surely you aren't objecting to rest, Prefect?" Jade smiled as politely as he could and he watched as you shuddered. "After all you almost di–"

"I'll be in your care then," You huffed, before patting his arm. "Just make sure you don't over do it."

"I won't. I'll be taking very good care of you."

Leona Kingscholar

"The Prefect got into an accident."

Leona couldn't understand how those words filled him with such dread. He couldn't even wait for Ruggie to finish, he was already rushing to the infirmary.

What did Ruggie mean by you got into an accident? What kind of accident was it? Were you okay? Sevens forbid that you were...

Leona gritted his teeth as he arrived. Irrational anger and worry wasn't like him. He took a deep breath, schooling his emotions before knocking on the door.

"Kingscholar," The nurse acknowledged. "To what do I–"

"The Prefect."

"...Right," They nodded before leading him toward where you were. The curtains were drawn and he couldn't...see you. "Don't do anything too rash."

Leona nodded, drawing back the curtain. His stomach dropped at the sight of you, your head wrapped up in bandages, and plasters covering your arms and legs.

You were awake, and you blinked as he stood there, "Leona-senpai..."

Leona heaved out a harsh breath, sitting at the edge of the bed. He didn't know what to do. Not when that ugly mix of anger and worry was bubbling at the base of his throat. Instead all he did was stare, as if any second an ugly red would mar the bandage on your head.

"I, uhm," You spoke first, your head turned downward. "It wasn't anyone's fault. We...had some rain at Ramshackle, and it leaked inside... The staircase, it... Ramshackle's old, so..."

"You're telling me the staircase fell in on you?" There was a surprised look on your face as he spoke. Even he couldn't understand the flatness of his voice.

"I...yeah," You clenched your fists. "Grim's okay, he was at the foyer when it happened, but..."

"So you almost died," At your nod, Leona felt the anger morph straight into fear. Died? The herbivore? You almost died?

He scowled at the thought as he pried your hands from the sheets, "Stop that. You're gonna make your injuries worse." His eyes met yours, and he could see the fear there too— in the way you trembled despite the day being warm.

"Herbivore..." He muttered before moving closer to you. He was mindful of your bandages as he held you, trying to ease your shaking.

"I was scared," You murmured into his shoulder. "I thought that it was the end, and—"

"You're here now," Leona soothed, and he wasn't sure who he was trying to comfort. "You'll be alright, herbivore." You pulled away with a weak smile and it took all of Leona's self control not to pull you back to him.

He sighed, hanging his head, "You...you drive me crazy. Really, do I have to cast protective spells on you to keep you safe?"

Your hand settled over his, "I won't object if you do. It might come in handy sometime."

"That's not the point. And you should sleep," Leona gently pushed you against the pillows. "How are you gonna get better enough to ask Crowley for more budget if you don't rest?"

"And..." Your voice was quiet; inquisitive. "You'll stay?"

"I wasn't planning on leaving," Leona braced his head against his arm. "Now sleep." That seemed to appease you, and soon enough, he could hear the steady sound of your breathing fill the room. And in the quiet of the room, Leona vowed never to let you fall into danger again. Not if he could do something about it.

ty for reading the hurt/comfort !! i hope that it uh, appeased your angst chasing for now, and if you'd like to read more of my stuff, check out my masterlist <3

[h-harleybaby]

this might be slightly boring but i saw it on another blog and it’s been plaguing my mind ever since

making out hcs w with Butters, Kyle and Kenny pls? 🥺 it does something feral to me man idk

Making out hcs with Butters, Kyle, and Kenny

Butters

• Butters kisses are usually really soft and gentle, y'all don't often make out because he gets too embarrassed

• He's pretty nervous but that's probably just because you're the first girl he's ever made out with and he wants to get it right for you

• He loves making out with you tho, whenever y'all do he swears sparks fly

• Turns out it just wasn't a good idea to make out in abandon building with bad wiring because sparks actually DID fly. Technically he was right tho

• He doesn't often take the lead with making out, he prefers to leave it up to you

• Butters is probably the type to accidentally moan in the kiss and feel really embarrassed about it and hope to god you didn't hear it

• You did. But you also really liked it and you encouraged him to do it more often/not hold back. He practically melted when you said that-

• He really likes it when you bite his lip while you're making out but he'll never admit that, he's scared you would think it's weird

• He's really physical, he just needs to have his hands on you. So often times he'll cup your cheeks or have his hands slightly under your shirt (only to hold your hips, he wouldn't dare go any farther without your permission)

• He also really likes it when tug on his hair a lil while y'all make out, he can't explain it for the life of him it just feels really good

Kyle

• Making out with Kyle is really sweet, I swear! He's just really awkward about it

• But it's honestly really cute <33

• He gets so scared because he's thinking "What if I kiss weirdly?? What if they don't like my kisses?? WHERE DO I PUT MY HANDS-"

• Ya know, that kinda stuff. You probably have to guide his hands to your waist or something so he'll stop mentally freaking out and sweating

• Hear me out, Kyle probably gets so nervous that his hands start shaking, and when you put his hands on your waist his finger literally will not stop tapping you. It's a nervous habit he has, like tapping your fingers on a desk

• Once he gets in the hang of it and stops freaking out he probably thinks he died and went to heaven. You gotta be an angel, right?!

• He's probably the type to smile into a kiss and whenever y'all separate he looks at you with heart eyes

• Although at first, kissing made him really nervous once he gets used to it, it probably calms him down and makes him act like a complete simp

• The world around him disappears because now all he can think of is you and your kisses

• He just can't get enough of you <3333

Kenny

• Kenny's really passionate when making out, and tbh he's always trying to make out with you

• He can't keep his hands to himself either, so they're gonna be everywhere

• He's also the kind of person who smirks into a kiss and literally grabs your waist to pull you in closer

• He loves when you have your hands in his hair when y'all make out, it just makes him more eager

• Y'all are probably a little light headed at the end of at least one kiss because he doesn't wanna let go

• Most of the time kisses between y'all end in making out, no matter where you are, even if it's just a lil peck

• Can you really blame him for wanting more?

• Hear me out on this, Kenny probably smokes and he accidentally got you addicted to his kisses because of the nicotine in the cigarettes he smokes

• Kenny feels really bad about it and he tries to quit smoking

• But he isn't complaining too much, it also means more making out for him

[buckyarchives]

second, first meeting | chishiya shuntarou

spoiler warning for ending of aib season 2

after the meteor, chishiya notices the all too familiar person. their a pull towards you - like maybe you’ve met somewhere? (gn reader)

words - 1.1k

a/n: WOW AIB 2 FINALLY OUT AND THE ENDING WAS REALLY GOOD I THINK. anyways arisu and usagis ending was so cute and i needed literally the “have we met?” scenario with ALL of them. and i’m a weak so i made this, very shoot, not beta’d, just a small and sweet drabble. enjoy reading!!!

—

Chishiya is alive.

He sure as hell didn't feel like it, but he was. The meteorite took a lot out of him, physically and mentally. Waking up in the beeping hospital room with a sudden new look on life, and he was going to do something about it. No more being a messenger for bad news, slowly tearing down people's hope one referral after another.

Dozens of people just experienced the same pain and trauma as he walked around him, some looking better than others. A girl with an amputated leg, a man in a coma as he passed by his room, and a girl and boy walking hand in hand with injuries littered over them. Humanity– always finding love in terrible suitaions.

Chishiya stood in one of the hospital common rooms, people-watching as he always does. God– it feels like a lifetime had passed since the meteorite. Chishiya was familiar with the whirring and beeping sounds of hospitals, people chatting and crying, and the strong smell of disinfectants and bleach. He was a doctor, all these things filled his life to the brim, it was familiar.

Even you.

You, who stood across the room; tucked into a corner (like chishiya), people-watching, snacking on crackers, and keeping yourself comfortably hidden. Yes, you’d caught his eyes. But something felt off deep inside his stomach, something was off about you. Almost like you were too familiar, chishiya could see a lifetime in your eyes and this is the only time he's ever seen you. Maybe, it wasn't?

Chishiya knew better than to laser focus on one person in the room, because your head perked up. Right into his direction, but chishiya’s gaze didn't falter– he couldn't even if he wanted to. The pull towards you was too intense, it made him dizzy. shock, confusion, remembrance? Flashed across your face, similar to him.

A small, sweet smile grew on your face. Fuck, what medication did they put him on? That meteorite really did a deal on him because suddenly he can’t breathe. For a moment he thought maybe his stitched came undone, half expecting to see blood soaking his scrubs when he looked down. But no– it was just you. Chishiya’s has never seen a smile so familiar, yet foreign.

Your eyes narrowed in his direction, like you were trying to read him. Something many people found difficult in the past, Chishiya didn’t put up a fight or a stone-cold face. Chishiya narrowed his eyes back, like a challenge.

So wrapped up in you that he didn't see the teenage boy wheeling a little too close to his toes in a wheelchair. “Ow!” chishiya yelped.

“Ah! I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” the boy began to spew out a plethora of apologies, frantically bowing his head to the elder.

“It's okay!” chishiya reassure, the sting in his toe had already been subdued– an easy injury compared to the bandaged and stitched-up ones he gained a few days ago. “Seriously, it’s okay.”

The boys' apologies slowed and he wheeled off, practically still bowing. Chishiya chuckled under his breath at the gesture. Looking back up to find you again, weird– what's got into him? Your spot ghosted empty and chishiya’s eyes frantically searched for you, only to find your back now turned to him and trudging down the hallways. Right as his eyes landed on you, your neck turned and you glanced back at chishiya.

A challenge indeed.

Chishiya curiously cocked his head, looking something like a cat. And then one foot in front of another, chishiya was following you down the hallway. He wasn't sure why, maybe he didn’t need a reason. I mean, he almost died, chishiya felt like he didn’t need a solid reason to do anything anymore besides what he wanted. And he wanted to follow the beautiful, mysterious, and weirdly familiar person around in a hospital. Like cat and mouse.

And that's how chishiya ended up in a quieter, more intimate area. Middle of a hallway, near a set of tables and a vending machine. Usually, where loved one would sit weary-eyed and waiting for good news. You came to a halt, chishiya stopped. You turned around slowly, that sweet smile that made chishiya’s stomach feel weird (apart from the wounds.)

“You're following me.”

Something that would so usually sound like a question, was a statement. Because it was meant to be, because you knew he was from the beginning. You intended on it. Chishiya already likes you. And hell– your voice almost gave him whiplash, so silk and sweet. Echoing distantly in his head, like he's heard it a million times before.

“And you wanted me too,” chishiya replied coyly. His voice felt so scratching and his throat burned as he spoke, being without water and unconscious for too long. Shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning back slightly. Even half dead he must keep up his cool-guy image.

You didn’t reply, only a wider grin growing on your face. And chishiya found it hard to bite back one of his own. How so uncharacteristic of him – he felt so warm.

“Maybe.” you finally said.

Chishiya hummed, beginning to close the distance – one foot in front of another – between the two of you.

You watched him intently, chishiya knew it. Normally he’d perceive this as someone sizing him up, but your eyes told a different story as they trailed up his body. Something that'd make his ears hot and red.

“Meteor?” you asked, gesturing to his wounds. Chishiya nodded. “Me too.”

It was awkward for a moment, but not uncomfortable. The silence was deafening as if it wasn't meant for the two of you. Like there were so many words only on the tip of his tongue, words unsaid, words he didn’t even know – but they were begging to be spoken.

You were the first to break the silence, stepping closer. Now only 2 or 3 feet in front of him. “Have I, sorry, this is weird– but, have we met before? Like even passed each other on the streets.”

“Not to my knowledge.”

You hummed, looking around to avoid the intense eye contact that tugged you closer, and closer and–

“Would you like to know me?” chishiya said, his eyes not leaving yours. A weird sense of home lay in your eyes, chishiya was ready to jump fully in.

You tried to cover the eagerness in you, waiting a moment. Dramatically tapping a finger to your chin as you thought. “I think that’d be nice.”

Chishiyas lip quirked up, following yours.

He may not know you the way he feels, but he will.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Hi! I’d like to request hcs for Vox (HH) with a fem sugar baby s/o ^^ (sfw and nsfw pls!)

A/n: Ugh, I love you sm 🫶 I feel like everybody needs a man like Vox in our lives yk

Warnings: Sugar Daddy- Sugar Baby relationship! Brief mentions of Alastor because I live for that man, mentions of jealousy, smut at the end, headcannon - story format, vox is needy per usual, LMK if I missed anything! NSFW Under the cut!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

Vox is probably one of the best sugar daddies out there

like he will drop PAYCHECKS on you for no actual reason

he loves spoiling you, like he genuinely finds so much happiness in spending money on you

I feel like he died before he could have a real relationship with someone, so even something like this is good for him

he’s definitely the first one to catch feelings, because of that fact he’s never been with anyone seriously

he’s had fuck buddies and one night stands but never something real, even if what you two have is more of a bank transaction

He really does care for you, round the clock security, nice apartment, lavish clothes and accessories

he really spares no expense, whatever his baby wants, whatever baby gets

however, he doesn’t pay for you to have sex with him

he truly doesn’t feel right doing it, at that point he might as well hire an escort

he does take you on lovely dates though, so much so you feel like your actually dating

he’ll send you pretty flowers with little notes, telling you what outfit to wear for your dinner that night

NSFW BELOW

back onto that telling you what to wear that night, he definitely buys you pretty clothes to wear just so he can take them off

he loves buying you dresses to show off your ass, more specifically anything that covers just enough, may the angels bless you that you don’t need to bend over

his favorite thing about you is your tits personality

yes i headcannon vox is a boob guy so what get over it

truthfully though, he loves everything, so there’s not much to worry about there

he doesn’t care what you wear, he can fight and will if anyone even THINKS about trying to take you home & if he sees you giving anyone else the time of day it’s over

“I saw you, giving those stupid fuck me eyes to that radio bastard. Think I didn’t notice?”

He asks, though it’s not like you can really speak. He’s been upset the entire car ride home. You don’t answer, too annoyed to say anything. “We’re just friends.” Is all you reply with, and he scoffs.

“Just friends? Just friends don’t eye fuck each other y/n.”

He says almost as if it proves a point. “Yeah well, you know our kind of relationship. I’m not exactly tied down to you.” You reply nonchalantly. It bothers him how much this hurts his feelings, because he knows your right. Truthfully, he couldn’t be more wrong. You weren’t his to get jealous over. You weren’t his to love that way. You weren’t his emotionally.

But financially you were. That was enough for him before, but was it now?

“You’re right.”

He says, pulling into the driveway of his house, which is large in itself.

“Come inside.”

He says, getting out of the driver seat and walking around the car to open your door. You get out with a sigh and follow him into his home. It was always nice, black and white tiles with hints of blue. The foyer was anything but small, quite large. It had a fountain in the center with a chandelier above it. He truly was living the life. All he needed was you.

“Y/n, I need to ask you something.”

He said, taking you by the hand and leading you to his bedroom, which you’d seen multiple times. You feel nervous, stomach doing backflips of uneasiness as you walk with him. “Yes?” You ask, and when he opens the door to his room you feel a bit better. He probably just wants sex, nothing new right?

“Do you think…”

He pauses, and he thinks for a moment. You can tell he’s nervous too.

“ Do you think I could make you happy? More than with my money?”

His question takes you aback. You had always liked Vox, but for anything more? It was almost like a trick question. What did he mean? “Possibly. If I got to know the real you.” You reply, and he looks to you almost shocked.

“Real me?”

He asks in disbelief. You laugh and walk to his bed laying on it, you begin to take your heels off. “Yes, the real you. Not the Vox everyone else sees and knows. The one you keep to yourself.” You explain, and he feels his dead heart beat quicken.

“Would you like to know the real me?”

He asks reluctantly. You two stare at each other for a second, before you inhale. “Yes… yes I would.” You say, and he’s slower in his walk towards you. As gently as possible, as soft as he can, he reaches for you, gently pulling your face towards him to kiss you and he does. It’s a soft kiss, tender, and passionate. His hands are slow traveling down your arms to rest on your waist.

The real him is soft. Calm. Well-mannered. He tries his hardest not to be like his friend, it bothers him the way his escorts leave in tears. His hands caress you softly, moving to undo the zipper of your dress as he deepens the kiss. The zipper slides down easily, and his kisses trail from your cheek to your neck, leaving hickies wherever he can. The dress drops and pools at your feet, and he takes a moment to admire you.

“You’re gorgeous. You’re perfect.”

He says, and he means it. He truly does. Because he’s fallen in love with you. He moves closer to you, kissing you again while his hands go to undo the back of your bra, letting it slide down your arms. He doesn’t pool away as his hands cup your breasts, and he feels proud when he hears your moan.

“You’re so pretty, so perfect. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He kisses into your shoulder. He pushes you back onto the bed, laying you down carefully before moving his hands down your sides.

“Let me show you how ‘real’ I can get.”

[luveline]

Spencer coming home from a long case only to find reader has unexpectedly adopted a bunny? ("Look Spence!! This is Doctor Bunny Reid :)")

thank u for ur request ♡ gn!reader

Your apartment smells strangely like straw. 

Spencer creeps inside quietly. It's five AM, too early for him to feel good about waking you up, but he hasn't seen you in eight long days, so he had to come over. He's hoping he can dump his stuff and slide into bed beside you without waking you, content to be close to you, assured that you're alright. 

He shucks off his jacket and his bag of dirty clothes by the door and unlaces his shoes. Hand pressed to the wall, Spencer walks down the short hall, past your living room and kitchen, to your bedroom door. 

"No, Doctor!" you say in a hushed shout from behind the door. "You can't eat that, that's one of his favourites. Woah, that tickles." 

Honestly, the first thing Spencer thinks is that you've gotten so bored you've found yourself enacting odd role play. The second thing he thinks is that you've found someone to do it with, and he quickly backtracks the first thing. He doesn't like the sounds of it, but he can be into it if you're into it. Probably. 

"Y/N?" he asks, pulling down the handle and opening the door.

You're sitting on the floor by your bed in strange attire. His t-shirt (that, while he appreciates the sentiment, does not fit you even slightly) under an old soft sweater with a huge hole in the collar. Black sweatpants, one sock, and a pair of white bunny ears perched in your hair. 

"You're not supposed to be back until seven," you say, shocked.

"That was my seven, not your seven… Surprise?" 

"Spence, I'd totally run at you right now, but," —you point at your lap— "I'm occupied." 

Spencer is disappointed, doubly confused by what you're pointing at. The soft lump at your abdomen isn't your tummy after all, but a moving grey creature of the same colour. 

"A rabbit?" he asks, eyes widening as the bunny in question nuzzles your sweater for petting. 

"Doctor Bunny Reid," you say, avoiding Spencer's eyes, a sheepish tinge to your admission. "To be precise."

"Your sock?" he asks, moving down onto his knees adjacent to your own. 

"He took it. I don't know where it went." 

Spencer quirks a smile. "He's cute. I don't think I can compete, really." 

You put your hand on the bunny's back and lean forward. "You compete," you say, pouting gently, "you're adorable." 

His smile turns to pleased surprise as you kiss him. Twice in quick succession, before you arm curls behind his back for a loose hug over your new pet.

Spencer breathes in your smell. Or, attempts to. "The hay and ammonia is a lot." 

"I know. I'll figure it out, I promise… I missed you, Spence." 

"I can sort of tell." Spencer isn't sure he needs to be a profiler to realise that adopting a bunny and naming it after him while he was gone is the sort of thing only a very lonely person would do. "How's he so calm?" 

"He's, um, four years old, he's used to handling. I got him at the pound. His owner died last week." 

"You have all the stuff for him?" 

"Of course I do," you say, leaning back to meet his eyes. "I didn't mean to get him just 'cos I was lonely, I promise I actually read up on it before I decided. He's handsome, isn't he? You wanna feel how silky his ears are?" 

Spencer doesn't doubt you care, or that you're responsible, he's just surprised. You hadn't mentioned wanting a rabbit before. Petting the rabbits ears softly, he asks, "You know they live for eight to twelve years? Sometimes longer? The oldest rabbit ever documented was eighteen years old." 

You frown. "I know, Spence, it's a commitment. I should've asked you first, but I–" 

"No, I mean. It's not about that, I hope we get longer than eighteen years together. But are you sure Doctor Bunny Reid is the name you want to choose?" 

Your face floods with relief. "Well, his real name was Mr. Patterson. Which one do you like better?" 

The bunny has enough of your lap, hopping down onto the floor and bolting for what appears to be a big wooden house you've set up for him. There are black partitions for an enclosure leaned up against the wall. Spencer can guess exactly how he'll be spending the day, and it involves less cuddling than he thought. 

Spencer takes your empty lap as an opportunity to hug you again, a protective hand cupped behind your head. "Definitely Mr. Patterson," he says, resting his nose against your cheek. 

You laugh infectiously, leaning back under his weight.

"I missed you. I'm glad to be home," he murmurs. 

You hug him tighter. "I missed you, too."