#and then THAT makes me stressed because of course i don't want to feel emotionally threatened by the thing i like

[soldier--poet--queen]

man i really wish i could enjoy things without my ocd making me insane

[neverendingford]

.

[doppel-doodles]

A normal post a about Kevin Barnes from Poppy Playtime.

I genuinely feel so bad for Kevin…

Like that was a kid who clearly had a lot of issues from the start, instead of getting the help he needed all that happened was him being marked off as a „problem child“.

And then he was turned into a toy:/

Read more of my full thoughts and a sorta character analysis/ramblings below cut!

Like honestly no wonder he is seething if he wasn’t troubled before he definitely is now-

Obviously he has no trust in anyone, almost every adult he ever knew screwed him over in some way, hell even the kids he shares a body with would go against what he would do.

(Great example: When Doey chases us in his monster form, it's the arms of Matthew and Jack that are trying to keep his mouth from biting us, Kevin's are trying to grab for us.)

He was hurt over and over again, clearly he wasn’t aggressive just because he wanted to be but because this was his only way of making sure he wouldn’t get hurt.

It was how he had a semblance of control, a sense of protection.

But of course the irony is: That coping mechanism brought him more pain, it was what got him killed.

Sure, maybe he could've just "calmed down", but why would he? He was hurt again, he lost everything AGAIN.

All because he listened to their judgement over his own. Kevin could've killed the player and Poppy on sight, clearly his emotions easily overpowered the other two, but he didn't.

Instead he agreed to trust them as well.

He was still willing to do that, surely if he were just a mindless monster he wouldn't be.

And you know what? I believe he blames himself just as much if not more for what happened than he blames us and Poppy and projects it tenfold.

Because maybe, JUST MAYBE-

If he didn't allow himself to trust again, then everyone would still be alive.

But he did...now see what that got him?

In his mind he's proven right.

So what's an emotionally unstable child to do? After being hurt AGAIN?

That's right.

He lashes out at the first thing he sees that had something to do with his pain:

Us.

Is he in the right? Hell nah- bro we didn't mean for that to happen! But do you seriously think this kid is thinking rationally right now??? NO! He is seeing red right now, he is in fight mode! All emotions and must I reiterate that the only way he knows how to express them is through anger and violence?

There is NO reasoning with wrath try as you might! And that hurts because yeah maybe you could've dealt with that if he was still a gradeschooler but he isn't! He is 900 pounds of living dough with a thirst for blood!

It's either our life or his now. And we already know what the outcome of that is.

Honestly I think it's better that we only hear Matthew and Jack apologise for what happened, I do not think Kevin would even if he did feel bad for what he had done.

Because why would someone who has been scorned so many times be vulnerable all of the sudden? When his main character trait is biting at those who bark at him?Why would all that rage suddenly disappear? If anything the stress of dying only causes him to lash out more.

You don't need an apology from him to feel bad for him.

He is hurting anyone with two eyes can see that and for what it's worth, I do believe deep down he knew what he was doing was wrong but it was too late for him to see any other alternatives and even if he didn't and thought he was right for doing what he did it doesn't take away from the fact that he was fucked over by life.

Kevin is not the worst part of Doey, he is just a part of him.

And that part is not just a violent hunk of playdough.

It’s a scared, confused little boy that cared just as much about every toy in safe haven as his other two components did.

Because if he didn’t why would he get so angry about their death?

Anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk-

Also feel free to agree or disagree with my take, those are just my thoughts so let me hear yours, I like discussions:}

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Sanemi Shinazugawa NSFW Profile

Yandere! Sanemi Shinazugawa x fem! reader

Tw: stalking, kidnapping, mentions of non-con and dub-con, public masturbation, voyeurism/non-consensual voyeurism, exhibitionism, spitting (m and f receiving), dick slapping, cumplay, possessiveness, mild gore, mentions of death, Stockholm Syndrome/reader is implied to start liking him, Sanemi is kind of a hot mess approaching sex so hopefully that has been conveyed, I hc hard that Sanemi is a virgin so don't bother fighting me on it, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 15K

HABITS:

Intimacy is very much not something that Sanemi is familiar with. He’s never even considered taking a partner, staunchly ignoring his fellow Hashira’s taunts (almost exclusively from Tengen and the odd, poorly-timed comment from Giyuu) about how he’d just ‘calm down’ a bit if he had a pretty woman to relieve his stress onto.

And while he’s mature enough to admit there’s probably some truth to that, he’s still rejecting the very few advances that come his way. He’s not only entirely uninterested in dealing with the intricacies and expectations of a relationship, but he’s also convinced that due to his traumatic past and the way he deals he interacts with those he loves, he’s unfit to be a partner.

He doesn’t think he has the capability to properly commit himself to someone, to become emotionally dependent on them – and frankly he doesn’t want them to become emotionally attached to him, either. It’s just too risky considering his job and his habits in battle – every night is a question of survival, missions leaving him so bloody and battered that it’s a miracle he pulls through, a miracle that Shinobu doesn’t just kill him herself with how often he winds up in her infirmary.

It’s just wildly unpractical – and it’s not like he chooses to become so horribly, deeply obsessed with you. He’s angry in the beginning, genuinely trying to hate you and distance himself from you in every possible way, but you’re like some irritating, persistent bug that manages to crawl back to him every time he thinks he’s shaken you off.

(A mindset that makes him feel incredibly guilty later on, ashamed of himself for having thought of you in such a derogatory, rude way. This is particularly true because now he’d be absolutely devastated if you were to leave his life, panic and terror engulfing him because no no no you’re not allowed to leave him.)

But once the feelings have been cemented and Sanemi finally, finally accepts that he can do nothing to change him, that outlook on intimacy being unavailable begins to change. Of course, he’s not immediately grabbing and groping at you, nor is he fantasizing about the way you’d look underneath him whimpering and writhing as he fucks into you.

(Wet dreams aside, of course. He doesn’t often wake up to messy, sticky sheets, but the shame that swallows him when he does is so palpable that even his fellow Hashira notice. Rengoku will ask in a much-too-loud voice if he’d slept well, if he’s okay, why there’s still a slight flush on his face, leaving Sanemi to only snap at him and storm out of whatever area they’re in.)

No, his fantasies are genuinely more innocent in the beginning – virginal, really, with the way he blushes a light pink at the thought of wrapping you in his arms, the simple idea of hugging you being enough to get him covering his mouth with his palm, too flustered to function. The mere concept of you pressing a kiss to his cheek – not even his fucking lips – gets him feeling hot under the collar, body too warm for him to sit still, needing to blow off the steam and refocus himself before he embarrasses himself in front of you.

It makes him feel weak, really, how these simplistic, easy forms of intimacy and affection are able to affect him in such a profound way, and as time passes it’s really only natural for his imagination to start turning lewder. It’s not something that he thinks of on his own necessarily, if only because there’s a large mental block there where he tries to separate the thought of you from anything he deems disrespectful or dirty.

He tells himself that you’re pretty, not sexy. (But oh god does he think you’re sexy, everything from your voice to your hair to your skin making him drool like some sort of perverted old man, blood rushing between his legs when he sees you bite your lip or flick your hair, having to quickly excuse himself for fear that you’ll see the way his pants are growing sinfully tight.)

You’re sweet, not naughty. (But oh, Sanemi wouldn’t mind if you were a bit bratty in bed, if you had a rebellious streak to you and made him work for it, made him put in every ounce of effort just to get you creaming on his fingers or tugging on his hair or letting him spill every last drop of cum he has to give you inside that tight little cunt of yours.)

It’s a strict boundary for him, but all it takes is a single seed to be planted that ultimately breaks his moral high ground. Perhaps it’s Rengoku noticing off-hand that Sanemi seems to be a bit quieter these days, the former laughing loudly and congratulating Sanemi on finding that beautiful woman Tengen was talking about – tell me, does she satisfy you in all the ways you require? It makes Sanemi sputter and cough slightly, shocked at both Rengoku’s observational accuracy and the insinuation of you pleasuring him.

(And also seething in jealousy because how the fuck does Rengoku know about you? Has he met you? Has he fucked you? Is that why he’s thinking about you in a sexual manner?)

He tries to stop it, but it’s too late – there’s a quick, shockingly explicit image of you on your back, knees folded up to your chin and Sanemi’s cock stretching you so widely that you’re crying, nails scraping down his back and moans of yes yes please more ‘Nemi please falling past your lips.

He’s ashamed of himself, training until he nearly blacks out from the exhaustion, Iguro shocked and mildly concerned at just how hard and raggedly he’s pushing himself.

(And, out of respect for the unspoken friendship between them, he ignores the way Sanemi’s been sporting a raging hard-on for the duration of their some three-hour sparring session, cock swollen and not settling down for even an instant. Frankly, he’s amazed Sanemi could fight as well as he did considering his situation.)

It’s shameful, Sanemi thinks, and it leaves him utterly mortified that he's letting his more primal thoughts win, but once the door opens he can’t quite shut it. He still tries – pushing idle thoughts of you on your knees for him out of his mind, cursing under his breath as he follows a few feet behind you, acting as your shadow and trying so, so very desperately to not notice the way your kimono is spread tightly across your ass. It’s commendable, really, just how long he manages to keep himself accountable, but it becomes more difficult the more time he spends watching you, seeing aspects of you that are really much more personal than he has a right to know.

And the final straw comes one sunny afternoon, when you’re walking with him down the rather crowded street of your town. He’s accompanying you because ‘it’s too crowded for you to be out alone’, as he’d told you, and he’s staying close to your side, careful not to touch you but always in your peripheral.

And really, maybe he’d had a point – because all it takes is a single shove from a woman next to you, and suddenly you’re falling forward, arms automatically reaching out to steady yourself but instead slamming into Sanemi’s chest, his noise of shock and the feeling of your thumbs touching his bare skin distracting him enough to leave the two of you tumbling the to the ground.

And of course you land on top of him – directly on top of him, with your kimono slightly askew and your clothed breasts pressed up against the expanse of his exposed chest, able to feel the fullness and softness of them. Your breath’s fanning against his neck as you blink and mutter a quick apology, your ascent ungraceful as you accidentally grind your thigh against his crotch, a small, nearly mute groan falling from his lips at the action.

He’s dazed, cheeks flushing a warm pink color and his eyes wide as they stare at you, even as you stand up and try to help him up. But he just can’t move – the feeling of your skin and body against his is too fresh in his mind, imprinted and replaying over and over as he closes his eyes.

And even the feeling of your hands grasping onto his as you try to lift him to his feet is sending him dangerously close to the edge, already feeling himself growing hard and his breathing getting labored.

He doesn’t say a word of it to you, only grunting at your frenzied apologies, not trusting his voice because he’s sure if he tried all he’d manage to push out would be a weak moan of your name. He takes you back to your home immediately, dropping you off in an uncharacteristically abrupt manner, only stopping to make sure you make it past your front door before he’s practically sprinting off, only able to heave in the deep breaths once he’s a good mile or so away from your home.

It’s only then that he finally lets go of the desperate, difficult breathing techniques he had to employ to keep a check on his cock, stopping himself from getting fully hard and only making the smallest of tents in his pants so as to not catch your attention. But as he heaves, wild eyes staring up at the sky, he’s clutching onto the fabric of his haori, knees slightly weak as he stumbles into the surrounding forest.

He’s in an empty area, and as he ventures deeper into the trees and shrubbery, he finds himself leaning against a nearby trunk. Fuck fuck fuck, all he can think about is the way your body was so warm and how you fit perfectly against him, as if your body was molded to fit his. It’s driving him crazy – everything feels too hot, sweat beading at his temple and his palms clammy. He tries to regain his breathing but it’s still coming out ragged, winded and sloppy, his cock so hard that it hurts, mind swirling with thoughts of you and only you.

And even after ten minutes of trying to calm down, Sanemi eventually curses, eyes squeezed shut and palm slapping the trunk of the tree as he realizes that the only way to get his body under his control again is to deal with the problem. It’s embarrassing, more than anything, and he quickly glances around the thickly forested alcove he’s found himself in, the daylight trickling in through the gaps in the trees and illuminating his chest.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Sanemi undoes his belt, the metal sounding loud in the quiet of the forest but slightly muffled by his breathing. It makes him bite his lip, flushing an ever deeper red color, but he shimmies his uniform pants down slightly, just enough to rest under the curve of his balls, staring with pinched brows at the way his cock is absolutely red – it’s swollen, almost visibly pulsing, so heavy that it only stands at a measly ninety degrees.

After a moment of contemplation Sanemi almost, almost tucks himself back into his pants, the guilt at masturbating to you nearly overwhelming, but then he’s hearing your voice in his head, ringing through and saying Sanemi thank you for catching my fall, Sanemi Sanemi Sanemi…

He’s spitting into his palm before he can stop himself, fingers wrapping deftly around his base and immediately flicking up and down, a mixture of a groan and a sigh of relief slipping from him as he finally, finally gets stimulation. His eyes close and he rests his arm against the tree over his head, leaning his forehead against his forearm.

He’s immediately imagining you – the feeling of your chest pressing against his, and images of times he’s accidentally seen you nude while peeking in through your windows crossing his mind. (And truly, they had been accidental – he’d looked away as soon as he regained his senses, blushing bright and running a hand through his hair, waiting for a good twenty minutes to ensure you were properly clothed before he chanced another glance.)

They’re so fucking perfect – he’s never felt a pair of breasts in his life but he’s sure yours are unbearably soft, that they’d be dense and squishy and perfect to squeeze and paw at. He’s biting his lip as he remembers the way your nipples look, licking his lips and even puckering them slightly as he imagines sucking at them, wondering with a particularly harsh tug of his cock whether you’d keen and sigh and moan.

His fist gets tighter as he thinks of the way your knee had brushed against him, balls clenching a bit at the idea that you’ve touched his cock, even accidentally and through multiple layers of clothing. He can’t help but imagine your hands wrapped around himself, fingers daintier and prettier than his own calloused, scarred ones, and his eyes peel open to watch them run up and down his length, looking crude and barbaric as he fucks into his fist harder, his hips starting to move in tandem with his wrist.

You’d look cute, he decides, when you jerk him off – you’d be such a juxtaposition, with feminine hands and soft skin against his masculine, thick cock, and the thought alone makes him grit his teeth, embarrassment and pleasure creeping up his spine because fuuuck he’s never felt this close so quickly before.

His mind snaps back to right before the fall, and suddenly he’s gasping your name and opening his eyes wide as the phantom touch of your fingers against his bare chest hits him, hips stuttering and sounds that are much too high-pitched for his liking filling the small forest area.

He’s turning around, back slamming against the trunk as he continues his brutal pace, keeping his fist stationary as his hips thrust and pound away, imagining it’s your pretty cunt instead. His free hand comes up to his face, the feeling of you grabbing at it and clutching your fingers against his driving him to press his palm tightly against his nose, deeply inhaling and sliding down the trunk a bit as he catches what he thinks is a very, very faint whiff of you on his skin.

His head tilts back, his thrusts getting sharper and more carnal, unconsciously angling them to brush against the top of his hand, where he knows you like best. He’s inhaling over and over again, smelling his hand like some dog, only pulling away to briefly lap at his palm, tongue lolling out and licking long, fat stripes across the skin, desperate to taste you, too.

He’s breathing hard, panting and chanting your name like some sort of prayer, the pleasure in his navel starting to build and grow. You’re just so fucking perfect, and he just knows you feel soft and warm and god he can’t fucking wait to touch you and feel you and pleasure you and make you moan his name and come for him and oh god oh fuck it’s coming it’s coming –

He nearly yells your name as cum oozes from his swollen tip, biting back the gaspy, airy groans that threaten to spill from his lips as his hips wildly jerk, uneven thrusts complimented by his abs clenching so tightly that his knees go weak, crouching against the base of the tree trunk.

He’s panting still, chest heaving as if he’d just run for hours, his face still flushed as he looks up, trying desperately to regain his senses. He’s still clouded by the smell and taste of you, and he only moves his hand to come clutch at his uniform, grabbing the same spot you’d grabbed earlier, squeezing at the fabric so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

There’s a trail of cum on the forest floor in front of him, white slowly cooling and smearing against the leaves, but Sanemi can’t find it in himself to care. There’s guilt settling deep in his chest as he comes down from his high, cock going pathetically limp against the waistband of his pants. He curses, closing his eyes and covering them with his hand, shame weighing heavily on him.

He’d just masturbated to you and reached the fastest orgasm of his life because of it.

It feels like some sort of selfish defeat, and he’s filled with self-loathing as he makes his way back to the Wind Estate for a change of clothes, berating himself for his weakness and promising to never give into his hormones like that again.

And yet, a mere five days later, he’s got his fist wrapped around himself again, fantasies of you bouncing in his lap like he’s just some toy for you to use racing through his mind, his composure slipping because he’d give absolutely anything to be of use to you, even just as something to get you off and discard afterwards.

It makes him feel pathetic, like a perverted, sorry excuse of an admirer of yours, but he just can’t help himself – how can he, when his every waking thought revolves solely around you?

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your Ass

In general, Sanemi loves the parts of you most that are the softest and the squishiest. He’s all hard lines – plains of muscle that’s rock hard to the touch, scars that are ragged and bumpy against the smoother texture of his skin. He’s all hard edges, but you’re the complete opposite – you’re sweet and soft, and Sanemi naturally gravitates towards areas that really showcase this.

Consequently, he finds his hands edging close to your ass from pretty much the beginning of your sexual relationship. He likes how plump the area is – he adores when you wear shorter skirts around him, or, ideally, just the pretty, lacy panties he buys for you with heat on his cheeks and embarrassment creeping up his spine.

(Of course, he’d bought many of them long before he’d stolen you away, long before he’d ever touched you in any serious capacity. He’d seen them when he was passing through an adult shop on a mission, and while he’d felt like a massive pervert for it, he’d purchased a pair that’s a particularly eye-catching emerald green, white lace trim at the edges and a matching garter belt and bra to go with it. He’d been mortified when he’d returned home and stared at the fabric, the fatigue and adrenaline having finally worn off, but the mere idea of you wearing the pretty fabric was enough to get him breathing heavy. It was enough to get him covering his mouth with his hand, cock painfully hard because even his imagination of how your pretty ass cupped by the cheeky underwear would look is enough to get precum staining his pants.)

When he’s kissing you, his hands are resting on your ass, groping and idly squeezing, playing with the fat and very, very gently slapping at it, kissing you even harder when he feels the way you squirm and yelp.

He prefers positions where you can make eye contact, but the somewhat rare times he has you bent over, Sanemi is absolutely feral – he’s smacking your ass and pounding into you as hard as he can, his grip on your hips tight enough to bruise as he loses himself in the way your ass ricochets against his pelvis, the wet slap slap noise forcing him to get on one knee, mounting you even more, fucking you like an animal.

(And while he’s not the absolute loudest during sex, you’ll hear some of the filthiest, foulest things fall past his lips when he’s fucking you from behind – he'll have you in prone bone, breath hot against your ear as he tells you that ‘s fucking tight, you’re so damn tight, fuck fuck fuuuuck, his voice groaned and strained as his hips punctuate each curse. And his grip on you is tight – fingertips digging into the plush of your hips and lovehandles, gripping hard enough to leave small imprints behind, feeling like he’s clutching onto you, like he’s scared you’ll disappear.)

He’s not picky about your shape, either – you could have perfectly round, full cheeks or very little definition and he’d still be in love, his fingers still twitching and flexing at his side with the urge to reach out and squeeze, to knead at the skin and hear the way you’d yelp and cling onto him.

(Perhaps you’d even smack his hand away, embarrassment creeping up your spine and your flustered expression making him lick his lips, hellbent on making you come so many times the only thing you can think of is him him him. He always has grand plans to tease you, wanting to have you looking at him with glossy eyes and be completely under his thumb, but every time he gets you naked in front of him it’s him who’s at your beck and call, pathetically eager to do whatever you wish.)

He won’t try to touch you until you have a more established sexual relationship in place, which will take several months of being trapped with him to achieve. But once the floodgates are opened he becomes extremely touchy – he’s always got his hands on you, squeezing and groping and touching, and you’ll often even find that when you’re laying on your front, he’ll come lay behind you, shyly at first as he places his cheek against the soft skin, a hand gripping onto your thigh as he relaxes, too embarrassed to make eye contact but basking in the softness of you, in the peace of the moment, in the way you’re really here, with him.

He loves the rest of your body too, of course, but his natural resting place for both his hands and eyes is your ass, and he’s not nearly as subtle as he hopes he is.

(Not at all, but there’s almost something endearing about it – the quick-tempered, serious Hashira so blatantly ogling you, his lips parting and his nostrils flaring as he stares, almost unblinking. It makes you feel good, truly, flattered despite the perverted nature of his staring. And so as time passes you’ll find that you can excuse it, his bashfulness and obvious attraction to you almost flattering the longer you go without other human contact.)

His Abs

By and large, Sanemi desperately wants to impress you.

He lives for your praise, finding that the sweet words slipping from your lips are enough to leave him feeling like he’s floating, a sort of genuine joy he hasn’t felt in years settling into his chest, making him fight off a smile. As such, he’s very, very attentive to your reactions to his body.

Years of pushing himself to become stronger and battling so often have left his body riddled with muscles and scars, leaving him in peak physical health. And you’ll know this from nearly the first moment you meet him – after all, it’s difficult to not notice the little peek-a-boo at his abs in his uniform, the skin defined and often glistening with sweat.

He’s proud of his chest, and he has to swallow very, very hard the first time he catches you glancing at the exposed skin. It makes his ego inflate, something pleasant licking at his chest because oh, were you just checking him out? It doesn’t matter if you were or not – because to Sanemi you were, and that fact doesn’t leave his mind for weeks.

He’s proud of his abs, and quickly grows to love showing them off to you. He elects to keep a shirt on for most of your early time trapped with him, not wanting to scare you or frighten you by being half-undressed. (He doesn’t want you be to feeling pressured into anything, because while he would never force you into anything even remotely sexual, he doesn’t want there to be any sort of dubious fear or doubt motivating you to finally seek out intimacy with him. Aside from your kidnapping and the stalking, of course. And the way his desperation for you is so thick it leaves you squirming in discomfort.)

But once your sexual relationship starts?

Oh – he’s constantly shirtless, purposefully flexing when you’re nearby so that his abs stand out more defined, pectorals looking firmer, the muscles of his back standing out and practically begging for you to run your finger over them. He loves when you trace the lines of his six-pack, your soft finger dipping between the muscles and sending shivers along his skin because fuck, even just your finger is getting him hot under the collar.

Press kisses against the area, murmuring to him that he’s so strong and that you feel so safe with you ‘Nemi, I know you could protect me from anything. He’ll grumble under his breath but the blush sporting his cheeks and neck give him away, as does the way his hips involuntarily and imperceptibly buck.

Kiss further down to the happy trail of silvery hair leading below the waistband of his pants, the skin ticklish and sensitive enough to leave him sucking in a breath, his fists tightening until his knuckles are white because oh, you’re such a damn tease. When you’re perched on top of him, rolling your hips and letting him cup at your ass to help guide you, rest a hand against his abs and he’ll groan, the muscles clenching underneath your palm.

(Often, when he’s getting too close to his orgasm and he doesn’t want the moment to end quite yet, he’ll pull you forward so that you’re straddling his stomach, looking up at you with dazed lilac eyes, telling you in a hoarse, heady voice to grind on me, use me, ‘m all yours. He wants you to touch his abs, to feel your cunt scooping and rubbing against the planes of muscle. He wants to watch the way your face contorts as you catch your clit on a particularly raised section, maybe even on a scar, his orgasm slowly – very slowly – fading off but his cock still remaining starkly at attention. You’re just so damn pretty when you’re smearing slick against his skin, the sight wanton and lewd but feeling so very right. And later that night, when he’s helping you to the bath and diligently washing your body, he’ll scowl before he washes off his own abs, slightly pissed that he has to wash away the trace of you.)

He just likes you to touch what he’s so proud of, and each and every time you have a remotely positive reaction towards them, Sanemi is in heaven. After all, you’re looking at him, and that’s something that makes both his cock and his heart swell.

DRIVE:

Sanemi is, for a lack of a better term, sexually frustrated. He’s never touched anyone before and never been touched himself, and even touching himself is something he rarely partakes in. Every ounce of irritation, anger, anxiety, and stress is taken out via rigorous training and often yelling. When he feels pent-up he finds that a good, quick spar is often a more effective way to quell it rather than jerking off.

Not to mention, there’s something about masturbating that makes Sanemi feel even more lonely and frustrated than before – it hurts slightly to know that he doesn’t have anyone to be thinking of, that while he saves men and women with partners and lovers, he’s not quite like them. Hell, even a few of his fellow Hashira have partners, someone to touch them and hold them, reassuring them and comforting them when the nightmares of screaming family members and demons become too much. It makes him feel pathetic when he feels sorry for himself for being so painfully alone, and this results in Sanemi avoiding pleasuring himself as often as possible.

But of course, biology has other plans for him – he’s in the sexual prime of his life, and when he can’t quite seem to work off the steam with a thorough work-out or eventful patrol, he’ll begrudgingly resort to his hand. It’s typically impersonal, wrapping his fingers around himself and steadily jerking up and down while he closes his eyes and bites back his groans.

He’s not thinking of anything in particular – maybe imagining it’s the hand of some mystery woman replacing his own, but nothing more than that. It’s fast, too, the pleasure slowly mounting and then crashing through him, gritting his teeth as he finishes and promptly cleaning up, wanting to waste no more time with it. It’s all just so very clinical, almost – even when he’s horny, even when the frustration mounts so high that it’s unbearable.

And while he’s slow to warm up to fantasizing about you in a sexual capacity, Sanemi’s irregular indulgences in lust remain. Of course, it’s much, much better now – now that he has someone to actively close his eyes and think about, imagining your voice and your body and your touch. It’s infinitely better because while you’re still not by his side or touching him with your own hands and lips and cunt, he can still fantasize that one day you will, that one day you’ll want him like he wants you.

And it’s enough – his sex drive is still fairly low, and even once he begins actively having sex with you it remains on the lower side. He’d just truly rather hold you or listen to you speak than pin you down and fuck you.

(Or have you pin him down and ride him until he’s shooting blanks and tearing up with red cheeks and fisting the sheets so hard his knuckles are white.)

But of course, he’s only a man and those urges do hit him – enough so that he has a sort of system in place for signaling that he’s feeling hot, that he’s restless, that he’s mentally undressing you and planning out all the positions and ways he can get you creaming on his cock. His signals aren’t particularly graceful, either – it starts with him sitting closer to you, his body completely tense and every muscle clenched.

(He does this unconsciously, both as a way to control himself from just reaching out and snatching you, and also to subconsciously make himself seem bigger, to look stronger and more masculine, to appeal to your more feminine side. He’s not even aware he does it, and if you point it out he’ll vehemently deny it, calling you deluded and making some comment about how you’re projecting your own lewdness onto him, but he knows you’re right, and he also knows he can’t stop it.)

Then he’ll start looking at you with more focus. He’s always staring at you, those wide eyes never leaving your form, but now he’s doing things – again, unconsciously – without realizing that give it all away; licking his lips, adjusting his pants, swallowing audibly.

It’s all things that you’ll notice, and depending on how far along you are in your captivity with him, your response to these signals dictates whether or not you end up with cum smearing the inside of your thighs – if you grimace and shy away from him, Sanemi will clench his jaw, nod slightly and look away. He’ll immediately get up and leave the room both from embarrassment and hurt at your rejection, and to avoid making you feel any sort of pressure or guilt to give him physical intimacy.

But if you scoot in closer, clench your thighs a bit, give him that sultry fucking look you know he loves, then he’s immediately kissing you, big hand cupping your cheek as the other latches onto your breast, kneading and squeezing as he groans against your lips.

And it’s messy – the kiss is all tongue and spit, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he presses his body into you as far as he can, desperation and relief flowing through him because the feeling of your skin against his is satisfying parts of him he didn’t even know existed. If you accept his advances, he’ll maneuver you onto your back, nudging between your thighs and immediately licking and sucking away, the loud suction noises making your cheeks feel hot and making it difficult to not squirm around.

(Something that strokes Sanemi’s ego but also frustrates him because he wants you to lie still so he can properly touch you. He can’t go at the pace and angle you like when you’re wiggling around, so he’ll just take a thigh in each hand and keep you steady, using his strength to pin you down so that you can’t move away from his eager, sloppy mouth. Because he wants absolutely everything to be perfect – he wants you to feel so good that you’re begging for him, associating him with pleasure, knowing that he can and will give you exactly what your body needs.)

He’ll make you finish on his tongue and only then will he start working his pants down, cock already so red and wet with precum that it’s a miracle a single brush against your cunt doesn’t make him immediately release. The sex is eager – that’s really the only word for it, because Sanemi’s grabbing every part of your body he can reach, hands unable to stay still because he wants to feel everything, mapping every inch of your body with his fingers so that if somehow you disappear, he’ll remember everything. He’s handsy, and yet his hips are absolutely brutal – he’s fucking into you like a wild animal, hipbones smacking against your ass in a bruising rhythm that leaves your whole body bouncing, every soft, jiggly bit of you drawing his attention and only making him go harder because he wants to see more more more.

But he’s loud, too – all kinds of curses and rough, uneven praises of the way you feel and how you look are falling past his lips, voice sounding nearly pained with the overwhelming amount of stimulation you’re giving him.

He’s truly pussydrunk in every sense of the word – so when he very unnaturally and awkwardly tries to put his hand on your thigh when he’s signaling he’s feeling hot and needy for you, just know that you’ll have a lot of difficulty walking the next morning.

That said, Sanemi will absolutely never force you into anything sexual without your explicit (and frequent) verbal consent.

Despite his rough-around-the-edges appearance, he’s staunch on his moral beliefs that sex is something intimate that should be reserved for partners who truly care about each other. He believes that it should be something enjoyed, something meaningful, something wanted – and so, to have you actively fighting him or not engaging in what he’s doing to you would leave his skin crawling, disgust and a new, different kind of shame seeping through him.

(Different if only because up until that point, everything he’s done he’s been able to spin as somehow being for your safety – stalking you to make sure no one bothers you, learning all your habits and favorite foods, clothes, and hobbies letting him notice any deviations signifying something is wrong. Hell, even kidnapping you has some benefits for your safety – no demon is stupid enough to enter the Wind Estate, and he’ll be damned before he lets any strangers in with the possibility of coming into contact with you.)

But intimacy is different – he’s not good at being vulnerable, and to be naked with you, to hold you in his arms and feel your hands caress the parts of his body that are deeply scarred and unused to touch is a new level of unguarded that makes him anxious. He’s so used to keeping up a pseudo-façade of being reckless and wild and in these moments all he wants is to let you see him raw, the real Sanemi Shinazugawa that wants you so badly that it physically hurts.

And so, if you don’t want him he’ll respect that – it hurts, of course, and he’ll have trouble facing you for the next few days, but he's man enough to know that your consent is key. But it’s also this crippling fear of rejection and putting himself in a position of possible weakness with you that bars him from trying to progress your sexual relationship for a long, long time.

He’s desiring you in risqué and lewd ways long before he’s stolen you away, but it’s difficult to act on those, to put himself out there and risk your harsh, painful rejection of him.

(And he’s convinced you will reject him, if only because despite his persona, Sanemi harbors insecurities about his ability to be loved. He thinks there’s something deeply wrong with him, something that makes others fearful of him and something that will deter anyone from getting too close. Besides Genya, of course, but the matter is complicated.)

And so, he holds himself back from making any sort of move in your sexual relationship – he wants to either have you bring it up, or to keep everything between you as strictly protector-protectee as possible, even if he craves to touch you and lay with you.

But, like most things in your relationship, Sanemi’s restraint snaps one day. To be fair, it’s not entirely Sanemi’s fault – months of repressing his sex drive and ignoring the tantalizing way you look in the kimonos he hand-picked for you leaves him on the brink of exploding, so pent-up and sexually frustrated that it nearly drives him mad.

The final straw is a particularly brutal, gut-wrenching mission – he’d been tasked to stop a demon in a few towns over, a simple mission that he really, really should’ve been able to fix much quicker. But the demon was smart and seemed to sense his approach, and the carnage was far, far greater than Sanemi was expecting. Small children stained red with parents dismembered a few feet away, visible bite chunks leaving the smell of rot and death heavy in the air. It left his stomach churning, but what truly sent him off the end was hearing a small sob after he’d sliced the demon’s neck, the little boy crying next to what Sanemi could only assume was his dead mother.

That in itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, but the boy’s striking, uncanny resemblance to his own brother Koto makes him stop in his tracks, lips falling open like a gaping fish. He’s frozen, simply staring like some fool, but then everything happens much, much too fast.

The demon’s suddenly swooping in, the boy’s head severed in the blink of an eye, a deranged cackle falling from the creature as a resounding crunchnoise fills the air. Sanemi’s thrown into a state of rage, immediately killing the demon and stabbing at it repeatedly. He’s cutting up each and every part of the monster (careful to avoid touching the boy’s head, though), yelling and cursing at it for what feels like hours.

By the time he’s done there’s tears pricking his eyes, and the walk back to his Estate is blurry and heavy with his own grief. He hasn’t cried in years, but something about the little boy’s face and the weight pressing on his back leave him with wet cheeks, the shoji door quietly sliding open to your room before he can catch himself.

You’re still awake, and he doesn’t even have the right mental state to be angry at you for cutting your sleep. He’s quiet, simply staring at you from the doorway as you wearily approach him, concerned and slightly scared because there’s blood smeared across his uniform and his eyes are bloodshot.

Sanemi? Your voice is weak, and you gently, hesitantly press a hand against his trembling fingers grasping onto the scabbard of his sword.

He swallows harshly, eyes locked onto yours. He whispers your name, voice low and hoarse, but before you can say anything he’s wrapping his arms around you, clutching onto your so tightly that your breathing is restricted. It leaves you yelping, unsure how to respond to the uncharacteristic affection, but the shallow shaking of his shoulders makes you soothingly run a hand through his hair.

Sanemi… You trail off again, but he only hugs you tighter in response. It’s some ten minutes before he finally sniffles, mumbling something against your clothed shoulder that you can’t quite hear.

When you don’t respond, he grips you tighter, pulling his face back just a hair to say again please, I need you to touch me.

It makes you stiffen in his grasp, and that makes him panic. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, I just – he stops, swallowing again and letting his weight sag against you even more. I just can’t be alone right now.

And maybe it’s the vulnerability in his tone, the strange, gentle side of him you so rarely see, or maybe it’s your own longing for human contact and touch that drives you to press a kiss against the crown of his head.

He gasps sharply, his grip loosening ever so slightly. You take the opportunity to gently pull back, grabbing his wrist and leading him over to your bed in the center of the room. He’s staring at you with wide, puffy eyes, shellshocked and unable to say anything as you grasp at the edge of his uniform.

Your voice is still soft as you tell him take this off, no blood on my bed, and he’s only staring for a single, long moment before the fabric is flying over his head, his pants quickly falling suite and leaving him bare aside from a pair of thin undergarments sitting dangerously low on the sharp v-line of his navel. He’s still looking at you, eyes wild and wide, his chest rising and falling so quickly that it almost worries you.

You’re much slower when you peel away your own sleeping clothes, leaving your body in only a thin, light-weight slip that makes Sanemi lick his lips. You’re so fucking pretty – it’s making something in his chest ache, his palms flexing by his sides, brain warring between the extreme emotional distress and arousal at seeing your partially exposed body and your desire for him.

You step forward, palm pressing against his cheek, and slowly pull him to you. Letting your lips ghost against his for a moment, you press a soft, barely-there kiss against the corner of his mouth. Murmuring his name, you feel the way his whole body shivers.

Finally, finally, you press your lips against his, moving slow and trying to let him relax into it. He’s still so tense – he wants this badly, but now that it’s actually happening he’s freezing up a bit. He’s dreamed and fantasized about this moment for months, lying awake and feeling pathetic for imagining that you could want him like this.

But the moment passes and he’s suddenly kissing you back, his movements sloppy and uncooridinated, evidence that he’s never done this before. But you take it in stride and pull back, the sound making his nostrils flare. He moves forward, chasing your lips, but you stop him with a lay down with me, please Sanemi.

And it’s as if he’s some well-trained pet – he’s immediately laying down, body tense and taut over your blankets, and he watches with baited breath as you straddle him, your thighs warm against his skin and oh god oh god –

He can feel it – can feel you.

You’re incredibly warm, the heat permeating through his underclothes as you press against his cock, the sensation forcing something that sounds much too similar to a moan to slip from his lips. It feels surreal – and when you start slowly moving your hips, grinding on him in teasingly slow, agonizingly pleasurable little circles, Sanemi’s gripping at your thighs, his self-restraint nearly buckling.

The evening passes full of slow, tender touches, exploring fingers and tongues covering every inch of your skin and his. The sex is soft, thrusts gentle and deep, rolling and pressing against every spot that makes your toes curl. He’s kissing you the whole time, grasping onto your skin like you’re his life line, a near-growl coming from somewhere deep in his throat when you take even a hand away from holding him. He wants your fingers tunneling through his hair, your leg wrapped around his waist, your nipples brushing against his own.

It's heaven, he thinks, and though he tries to hide his face as he ruts into you, the tears return to his eyes and before he knows it he’s chanting a slurred, choked mantra of your name, timing with his thrusts and begging you in a near-incomprehensible plea of never leave me, you can’t leave me, I won’t let you leave me.

It’s only after his hips stutter, a gasp of your name and his hot breath going ragged in your ear that he finally goes limp. He’s still inside you, the last throbs and bits of his orgasm rocking through him, but he’s carefully maneuvering your bodies so that he’s laying behind you. You’re caged in his arms – a heavy, muscular limb wrapped around your waist, body molded to yours and pulling you flush against him. He falls asleep like that – flaccidly inside you, his breath in your ear, his grip on you remaining deadly tight even as dreams overtake him. And eventually, you fall asleep too – exhausted, confused, and embracing this small, intimate moment even if you’ll regret it.

He’s gone the next morning, the covers wrapped up to your chin, the blankets and sheets on his side perfectly pristine.

He doesn’t mention that night for the foreseeable future, embarrassed and angry at himself for giving into temptation and allowing himself to be so weak in front of you. He’s worried that you might regret it, that you’ll find him disgusting for being so wanton and blatant in his begging for you, and he bars himself from engaging with you sexually again. (Out of embarrassment, out of shame, out of fear because god, he’s never been as desperate and depraved as he was the moment he slipped inside of you, and how would he react the second time? The third? The tenth?)

He won’t acknowledge that it happened, but you’ll notice the glances he starts throwing your way, the way his gaze lingers on your body, how he stiffens up the moment you get even remotely close to him. It’s a stark contrast to the man who’d been groaning out your name like salvation the night before, but just know that if you were to approach him, Sanemi will be putty in your hands.

If you were to kiss him or touch him or tell him how badly you need him, he’ll fold. He’ll get onto his knees, mouthing at your cunt and struggling to mutter out how he’d thought you’d never ask, fuck.

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Cumplay

While Sanemi will bend to your whims almost always in bed, there are a few very, very specific things that he won’t compromise on.

That is, he absolutely must finish either inside you, down your throat, or on your body. It’s a possessiveness thing for him – he’s in ecstasy and still slightly shocked that you’re touching him (and letting him touch you), but it’s still not quite enough. He’s licking and sucking at your neck, leaving marks and hickies and the imprint of his fingertips lightly against your skin, trying to mark you up as his his his. He wants to leave a physical imprint of his possession over you, because while it feels dehumanizing to think of you as his, he can’t help the way it makes something in his chest twist in just the right way, nor can he help the way his cock stands up at attention, growing hard just at the mere idea of physically making you his.

And Sanemi quickly finds the quickest, easiest way to claim you as his is to leave you absolutely dripping with his cum. He’s territorial, completely believing that you’re his woman and he is your man. It’s this possessiveness mixed with his obsession over being your protector that drive his compulsive need to fill you with every last drop he can give you – it feels better this way, more natural. It’s like he’s giving you what you desire – he’s giving you everything he can, the most intimate, sacred part of him, something he made for you and you alone.

And so, every time he’s got hic cock out and your kissing, sucking, touching, or fucking it, Sanemi’s throwing his head back and groaning, all sorts of filthy, dirty promises about how he’s going to finish for you falling past his lips.

He’ll have you on your knees, his thighs tense and his abs clenching, his hand in your hair and fighting very, very hard to not pull you down until his cock’s in the back of your throat, choking and gagging you. (He wants to – god does he want to, but he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’ll stop himself. A mind-numbing orgasm with your hot little tongue pressed against his underside isn’t worth you being angry or hurt.) He's groaning your name and telling you that that you’re gonna – fuck, gonna take it all, yeah? Gonna swallow every last fucking drop, o-oh fucky baby, god wanna see you swallow ngh –

Your hand is wrapped around his girth, wrist flicking up and down so quickly that it makes him pant, your free hand delicately groping and squeezing at his balls. He’s bucking up against your tugs, a red flush on the bridge of his nose as he grunts, rushing forward to kiss you with way too much tongue, pulling back only when he starts shuddering, breath ragged as he tells you that he wants to finish on your chest, voice getting slurred and strained as he tells you he’s gonna come on your tits, god so fucking pretty fuck fuck fuck –

(He’ll stare with this sort of boyish look in his eye and something feral, predatory at his handiwork once he does, white smeared across your skin and leaving a film that he rubs at with his thumb, pinching your nipple and licking his lips when you squirm.)

He’s got you pressed into a tight, suffocating mating press, his forehead pressed against yours and his hands holding your knees up, the angle and feeling of you making teeter on the edge. ‘M gonna, ‘m gonna come soon, where do you want it? He’ll ask, eyes fluttering shut as you clench down on him, only to open wide when you whine out to finish inside ‘Nemi, please please please want your cum!

And it’s lewd and dirty and it gets him fucking into you deeper, hips snapping into yours so hard that you’re physically moving up the length of the bed, his voice a growl as he grins, groaning yeah? Want me to come in this tight – fuck, tight little pussy? So damn greedy, fuuuuck, you better take it, don’t let any drip out or I’ll have to fill you again. He’ll press kisses against your lips, jaw, and neck, his voice growing louder as he growl again between each kiss.

And when he’s right on the edge, his thrusts growing uneven and choppy, his eyes are meeting yours again as he gasps take it take it take it, cum spurting from his tip and leaving you feeling warm and so very, very full. He produces a lot with each orgasm, seeming to never stop as it oozes from his hyper-sensitive tip, and Sanemi uses it to his advantage.

He’s obsessed with looking at the product of his orgasm – he’ll kneel between your legs so that your cunt’s eyelevel and simply stare as his cum slowly leaks out, down the grooves of your folds and over your pert hole, dripping onto the floor below you and making him scoff. He’ll scoop it up with a single finger, pushing it back inside of you and kissing you to muffle the sound of your surprise, slightly embarrassed because he absolutely can’t let even the smallest amount not end up inside you.

When you’ve convinced him to be a tad bit rougher as you bob your head between his legs, Sanemi will grant your wish and finish on your face, groaning and biting his lip at the way you look, his cum dribbling down from your lips to your chin, dripping down to land on your nipples, thighs, other parts of your body.

 (And as disrespectful as it felt to finish there, Sanemi secretly loves it – he won’t request it because he doesn’t think you’d enjoy it, but he’s nursing a fantasy that you’ll let him smear his cum all over your lips and cheeks, and then simply not clean it for the rest of the day. He wants the physical evidence of his intimacy with you to be constantly visible, so that every glance reminders him that you wanted him, that you were practically begging him for his cock like some common whore. You aren’t, or course, but the possessive, animalistic part of him that desires rough, carnal sex with you is satisfied by the idea, something primal about the idea of leaving a mark of him him him against your pretty face. He’ll never bring it up, simply stewing on it in silence, but if you were to mention the idea, or tell him that you want to keep his cum really anywhere against your skin, you’ll witness something that absolutely mortifies him – a dry orgasm paired with a sad, shocked little whimper, the embarrassment and unexpected pleasure making him too ashamed to even look at you for a few hours afterwards.)

He just really likes the concept of leaving you stuffed full of him. (And there’s a small part of him that hopes desperately with every load he gives you that it’ll finally take. He’s always fantasized about having a family with you, but with each time he stuffs you full, he can only get closer and closer to the dream, the mere idea of you pregnant enough to get him hot under the collar and desperate to get his hands on you.)

And to his credit, this kink goes both ways – he’ll gladly let you cover every inch of his skin in your spit and slick, rubbing yourself against his body and licking at him until you’ve had your fill.

(And fuck, if you squirt? He’s wearing it like a badge of honor, pride and arousal coursing through him in such potent amounts that he’s nearly dizzy, nearly unable to function because god he needs to fuck you and make you do that over and over again until you can’t anymore.)

He’s just possessive, and while you might initially be rather disgusted simply by his eagerness and fixation on it, eventually you might even find it hot, too. Because really, he may be deranged, a stalker, horribly and uncomfortably dependent on you for his emotional stability and health, but isn’t there something so very sexy about a grown man moaning in your ear and begging you to please let him finish inside you?

Voyeurism

Perhaps it’s a remnant of having stalked you for so long, but there’s something that gets Sanemi so fucking hard about watching you pleasure yourself.

There’s layers to it – of course he loves the physical sight of you with your fingers stuffed into your cunt, tits spilling out of your lounging shirt, thighs quivering and your lips parting into that pretty ‘o’ shape that Sanemi wants to fill with his fingers. He loves the way you look all fucked out, pretty and writhing and gasping, letting all your natural sounds out because there’s not a soul around to hear you and you can be truly free. So yes, from a purely carnal, sexual standpoint, Sanemi very much enjoys the sight of you touching yourself.

But even beyond that, there’s something morbidly fascinating and addicting about it – there’s something indescribably intimate about watching you at your most vulnerable, those lilac eyes widening and staying transfixed on every aspect of you that he can. He’s watching like a hawk as you squeeze at your breast, watching to see if you pinch at your nipple or roll it, if you squeeze hard and hold it there or opt for weaker but more frequent squeezes.

He’s carefully watching your fingers, analyzing the patterns and shapes you’re drawing against your clit, how fast you’re going and whether you vary anything or keep it all consistent.

(He’ll even press his fingers against the expanse of his forearm as he watches, mimicking your motions against his own skin in an effort to practice, to learn by muscle memory exactly how you like to be touched so that once he gets you naked and spread out for him, he can be exactly what you want and give you exactly what you need. He’ll do this with the way you finger yourself, too, guessing at the particular angles you’re reaching for based on the way your wrist flexes, how your knuckles move. He’ll go home and practice this, too, using his pillow as a poor stand-in for your body and practicing thrusting in the pattern you seem to like, angling his hips to brush against the spot that always gets you gasping, buffing up his stamina because he’ll be damned if the first time he gets you naked underneath him is thwarted by his own physical inabilities.)

It helps him feel connected to you like this – easier to pretend that he’s the one making you moan and curl your toes rather than your own hand or the toy you’d purchased for yourself.

(A toy that he absolutely fucking hates, always glaring at it and scoffing because he’s sure that he could fuck you so much better – he’d get the angle right, he’d get the depth perfect, and he’d do all the damn work – you just need to lay there and look pretty, grasp onto him and moan his name and he’ll take care of the rest. He'll always take care of you, after all, and he wants the sex to be absolutely perfect, for you to crave him even a fraction as much as he craves you.)

And even once he’s forced to steal you away, these habits of peeping in on you while you’re lost in your own little world don’t magically disappear. It’s more difficult now, sure, because standing and peering through your window was always easier, always less risky, but Sanemi becomes too desperate and in withdrawal to stop himself.

His lucidity leaves him feeling guilty every time, but he’ll crack the door into your room open ever so slightly, having returned home from a mission or an errand earlier than he’d told you. He’ll peek in, doing his best to move slowly and silently to avoid grabbing your attention, and he’s immediately got his hand in his pants, gripping himself so tightly and harshly that it nearly brings tears to his eyes.

His orgasms are always stronger when he’s got you in his sight, and as he times his strokes with your thrusts inside yourself, he’s clenching his abs and shaking, hips coming up to thrust and rut against his fist. He’s staying deathly quiet, intent on hearing the sound of your moans and the wet squelching of your cunt sucking your fingers in again and again. And when he comes, he’s praying that you’ll finish at the same time, forcing himself to stop and endlessly edging himself just so that you can come together, to have something romantic and sweet like a simultaneous release.

(Of course, the aftermath of cum staining the front of his trousers and his upper thighs is less sweet, but Sanemi can’t quite care – even as it dries and grows cold, feeling slimy and sticky against his skin. He’s too transfixed watching the way your chest slowly stops heaving, how you relax and bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, how you idly play with your nipples and smile up at the ceiling, and if he tries harder enough - pretends hard enough, really - he can even hear you murmur his name.)

The intention is relatively sweet, no matter how deranged and creepy he may feel for actively spying on you as you undress, but he’s just a man, and how can a man be expected to deny himself the viewing pleasure of the woman he’s so madly, pathetically obsessed with?

But unfortunately for Sanemi, you’re not as oblivious as he hopes – you’ll notice the way he lingers at your door, his occasional soft, shuddering gasps not going unheard even over the sound of your own moans. You’ll see his shadow against the door panels, even seeing the shadow of his cock when he pulls it out of his pants, the mere sight making your orgasm hurtle closer and closer, even despite your shame at finding your kidnapper’s cock arousing.

You’re not blind, and it’s almost therapeutic to watch how easily he falls apart for you, the shadow of his back hunching over slightly as you both near your ends, the wet squelching sounds of his fist going up and down just barely audible if you strain yourself hard enough. It’s endearing, in a fucked-up sort of way, but if you were to ever mention something about it, Sanemi will immediately bristle, embarrassment crawling up his spine and his cheeks glowing a soft, subtle pink, entirely caught off guard and unsure of what to say.

(He’s mortified that you know, that he’d been caught, if only because now he’s absolutely convinced you must think of him as a pervert, as a monster, and it kills him to know that it’s true. And yet, there’s some small, masochistic part of him that’s almost glad, finding the whole situation so, so very hot because now he can’t help but wonder if you’d started touching yourself on purpose, perhaps wanting to draw him out, perhaps wanting to listen to him losing his fucking mind over your naked body. You naughty, naughty thing.)

And so, once your consensual sexual relationship begins, Sanemi is using every piece of knowledge he’d gathered from watching you to his advantage – he’s not wasting any time putting all that practice into use, curling his fingers and rubbing and kneading just how you like it, watching with wide, almost nervous eyes to see how you react, hoping that he’s doing good and making you enjoy it, enjoy him.

He wants you to tell him how it feels, to hear you say that it’s good, that you love it when you touch me ‘Nemi, and that alone gets him doubling in his efforts, frantic to get you to orgasm for him and only him, filled with a sort of crazed need to be the one to finally, finally bring you your high.

And as time passes, you’ll notice that Sanemi tends to bring this kink into the bedroom, too, even when you’re fully aware of his presence – he’ll tell you to touch yourself, settling across the bed, and slowly fisting at his cock, licking his lips and watching with rapt attention as you spread your legs, playing with yourself and humming his name.

But it’s not quite the same as when you were alone, though, and Sanemi will tell you to act like I’m not here, don’t make shit up or fake your moans. He wants the authenticity, the rawness, the realness of you fully indulging in yourself.

It’s in these moments that you’ll see the more submissive side of Sanemi – the small part of him that absolutely loves when you ignore his existence, pretending he’s not fisting his cock like a madman simply to the sight, smell, and sound of you. He likes the way that you’re not paying him any mind, completely focused on yourself, Sanemi merely a bystander and watching you. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s in these moments that his obsession only further solidifies, his feelings for you growing stronger and latching into him deeper, like claws that make him shiver in pain-tinged pleasure. Because really, he can only consider himself lucky and cruelly blessed for getting to see you like this, for being allowed so close to you as you gush on your fingers and pinch at your nipples. It’s an honor, even if that explanation makes you shift uncomfortably and try to ignore the reverent look in his eye.

You’re just so damn pretty, can he really be blamed for wanting to stare and stare and stare?

Marking

While hyper fixated on your health and safety in every aspect of his obsession, one area where he’s ever so slightly lenient is in bed. He’ll outright refuse to do anything that draws blood or involves hitting you, but there’s something rather tempting about the idea of leaving a trace of himself after he spends hours upon hours getting you to come on his fingers and cock.

He likes the reminder that he’d been able to pleasure you, the feeling enough to get you moaning and clawing at his back and whining his name. And so, Sanemi develops a liking for leaving all sorts of hickeys and love bites all over your body.

He’s passionate when he fucks you, leaving kisses on every inch of skin he can reach and grasping onto you tightly enough that sometimes bruises appear.

(And he feels guilty for it, in the beginning, always scowling when he sees them the next day. But alongside the guilt there’s something good – something that makes him smug, pride settling in his gut because those are his fingermarks on your body, showing that he attends to your more intimate needs. Reminding him that you let him attend to those needs – that you let him kiss and hold you, that you let him squeeze and grope at your skin, that you let him spread your legs and push himself inside until he’s filling every possible inch of you, connected with you in the most raw, natural way. It’s romantic, almost, and it makes Sanemi squirm slightly just thinking about it because oh fuck, now he’s hard again and really you should take some accountability for showing off your collarbone and the barrage of hickeys like that…)

He’s not picky about where or how he does it, either – what you’ll mostly be covered in are hickeys, the dark spots dancing in patterns all along your neck, shoulders, collarbone, inner thighs, and even your stomach and ass. His favorite is your neck, though. He likes the way you get all breathless when he kisses and sucks and licks at the skin, the sensations making your breath go light and airy against his ear, the harsh puffs of air blowing against the tufts of white hair on his head.

And he’ll leave all over your neck – at the juncture at your jaw, sucking a few right below your ear.

(He’ll take a few moments to lightly nibble and bite at your earlobe, liking the way you whine his name and tell him to stop being weird, but it’s endearing, the way you clearly like it and are just saying that to keep up images. Silly girl.)

He’ll flutter kisses along the column of your neck, tracing your windpipe and smiling against your skin when you swallow heavily. He’ll suck dark hickeys into the flesh of your shoulders, the soft slope the perfect canvas for him to leave littered with his marks. Sometimes he’ll randomly pick spots, the final result looking a little unorganized but still enough to make his heart swell and his breathing to get heavier. Other times he’ll very strategically place them – spelling out an ‘s’ character or a heart or something sappy that leaves him feeling a bit embarrassed but he just can’t help it.

Your neck is his favorite because of the intimacy and the difficulty of hiding the particularly high ones, but your inner thighs are a very close second. When he settles onto his stomach and spreads your legs, mouth hovering over your cunt and his warm breath making you twitch, he’ll take his time kissing up the space from your knee to your pelvis, taking the skin between his teeth and lightly nibbling, pressing dark sucks against the area and loving the way you squirm underneath his rather harsh grip on your thighs.

He’s a tease once he grows confident in the fact that you crave intimacy with him, loving the way you get desperate and beg him to give you what he knows you need. (He’d watched you with enough consistency and thoroughness for all those months before stealing you away and now he knows your tells – the way your face looks, how you sound, how your body jerks and shakes, hell, even the way you smell when you get close.)

He’ll push you right up to the edge, fingers working magic in a come hither motion against that spongey spot inside of you that makes your whole body tense in pleasure, all while his thumb is rubbing circles at your clit that leave you bucking your hips and chanting out his name. He’ll get you right there, then pull back, going back to your inner thigh and working on a fresh, new hickey, the loss of stimulation making you pout and whine for him to touch you again.

He’ll only roll his eyes, pulling back with a loud thwap noise as the suction breaks, your slick still visible on his lips, chin, and cheeks. So demanding, he’ll start, sending a sharp brush of his fingers over your clit that gets you gasping.

He’ll hold out for a while longer, milking out the way you plead with him, before he’ll eventually give in and get back to your neglected cunt, bringing you to your high and rutting at the bed below him with the way you writhe and cry out. And for the next few days, every time he sees that particular hickey he’s suddenly way too red, sweaty and panting and growing more desperate by the second to give you more more more, wanting your whole body to be evidence of his presence in both your life and your bed.

And he’ll proudly wear any marks you make on his body, too – leave hickeys and love bites against his skin and he’ll only shiver and let his eyes roll to the back of his head. He’ll encourage you to run your nails down the expanse of his back when he’s got you in missionary or a press, growling your name as his hips fuck into you harder, faster, with more intent and purpose.

(And later, when he’s dressing himself and happens to see himself in a mirror, he can only gulp, thumb tracing along the scratch marks and blemishes left behind from you. It makes him giddy, often absentmindedly running a finger over them while he travels to missions, during pointless conversation, during times when he’s away on a mission and starting to think himself into a panic about how you’re doing, if you’re safe, if you’ve escaped him somehow. It calms him and only kindles his feelings for you, the knowledge of you willingly leaving your mark on him enough to get him licking his lips and palming himself over his pants, trying to restrain himself so that he can get you to leave newer, fresher marks.)

He just likes the idea, and while he’d never bite you hard enough to cause genuine pain or give you a hickey so deep that it hurt, he will be marking you from head to toe so that everyone you come into contact with (no one besides him, really, but that’s besides the point) cannot deny that you are Sanemi Shinazugawa’s woman.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Slapping

But in a very, very specific way – Sanemi treasures you, idolizing and worshipping you to the point of self-loathing, and consequently he’s not terribly mean in bed. Once a steady sexual relationship is established between the two of you, he’ll get more vocal and adventurous, adapting to what you like.

(And he’s willing to do just about anything you want of him sexually – he’ll get on his knees and kiss up your thighs, lapping and sucking at your cunt until you have to physically push him off of you, slick smeared across his lips, cheeks, and chin while he stares up at you, equal parts hazed and irritated that you’d pulled him away. He’ll let you climb on top of him, pinning his wrists above his head and letting you play with his cock until he’s near tears, the edging and phantom touches making him grit and groan, desperation eating away at him because your touch feels so good but oh – it’s the attention you’re giving to him that ultimately makes him paint your fist white.)

And though he’s not naturally inclined to be degrading towards you during sex, there’s one stark exception – that is, there’s something that makes the possessiveness and territorial feelings Sanemi harbors for you flare up when he smacks you with his cock. Nothing too hard, of course – the intention isn’t to hurt you or bruise you, but rather it’s like staking his claim on you.

It’s like showing you that you belong to him – he’ll grip himself at the base, biting his lip and flexing his arm as he shifts his weight, hovering over you and smacking his fat, soaked tip against your pretty, puffy clit, stifling a groan at the way you jerk at the contact.

He’s smacking himself against your folds, the wet and tacky noise making his fingers tighten against the pillow under your head, his breath getting heavier because fuck, you look so damn pretty underneath him like this, reactive to his cock even when it’s not inside of you.

He’s tracing his tip against your lips when you’re on your knees for him, whispered chants of your name falling from his lips as he lightly taps his tip against your cheeks, your lips, your outstretched tongue.

(And, after he smacks himself against your tongue, if you smile and giggle ever so slightly? Well, don’t be surprised when he stiffens up, his orgasm crashing through him after a mere minute of your hot, wet mouth around him. Don’t be surprised when he starts cursing and murmuring things under his breath right on the brink of his high, your name mixing with gravely I love you’s as he gives you rope after rope after rope of his cum, hot and potent and made with only you in mind.)

He just likes the physical action of it, the way that even something so small gives him the slightest bit of acknowledgement that you’re his, that you’re here and touching him and looking at him just as he’s been fantasizing of for so long. It’s hot, he thinks, and while he’d be extremely reluctant to actually hit you during sex, he’s rubbing and smacking his cock against every inch of your body that he can – your face, your ass, your tits (he especially loves to rub his cum-soaked tip against your nipples, watching as they get hard and get glossy in the candlelight), your thighs, hell, even your arms.

He wants to claim every part of you, and so between covering you in his cum and the imprint of his cock, you’ll be fully and utterly his.

Spitting

Again, it’s a possessive thing – tying into his desire to mark you as his and only his, Sanemi grows a penchant for spitting. It’s something he harshly avoids when you first begin your intimate relationship, finding the act too disrespectful and frankly gross to partake in. He’s worried you’ll find it derogatory and that you’ll see him as some misogynistic freak who views you as his property.

(Which is, in some ways, ever so slightly true – he does see you as his, but it’s reciprocal. You’re his just as much as he’s yours, and if you want to think about in such a crude, black-and-white way, then yes – he sees you as his property. But he’s your property, too, if it makes you feel any better.)

And frankly, he won’t bother indulging in the kink unless you initially bring it up – he’s too tied down to this philosophy and he doesn’t want to risk you getting disgusted or turned off when he’s touching you.

But if you bring it up and use a lot of ‘please’ and compliments, Sanemi will cave.

It’s awkward the first few times, hovering over you and perched on his elbows, nose scrunching slightly because he’s not sure how to do this in a way he thinks will be sexy for you. He wants to live up to your fantasy, so he presses his tongue against the roof of his mouth, collecting the saliva, before puckering his lips, letting the glob fall with a rather obnoxious noise.

Your mouth’s already open for him, tongue lightly sticking out and your eyes half-lidded with lust, and the mere sight alone makes Sanemi gulp, scared he might accidentally drool into your mouth.

(Though, perhaps you’d like that – you’re a freak, he thinks, but it still makes his cheeks feel hot, his cock jumping against your thigh, his Adam’s apple harshly bobbing.)

It’s in the moment when he watches his spit land on your tongue, pretty lips closing and the swallowing motion you make exaggerated and loud. He’ll pause, staring down at your lips in a daze, before suddenly telling you to do that again, the sight so strangely erotic that he needs to do it again and again and again.

It strokes something in his ego – some sort of feeling of dominance and claim on you, marking his territory by making sure you’ve got a little piece of him in you. Soon he’s cupping your jaw every time your clothes get stripped off, forcing your lips to open and immediately spitting onto your tongue, watching with hazy eyes and a small smirk as you obediently swallow, the sight never failing to get him even more eager to spread your legs and sink inside of you.

It gets to the point where it even becomes a non-sexual thing sometimes – it feels too good to be showing such an obvious sign of claim on you that he’ll slowly kiss you in the mornings, your soft lips and little sighs making him light-headed. He’ll pull back, his morning voice hoarse and gravely as he tells you to open up, immediately spitting into your open mouth and following it up with a few kisses against your jaw, a murmur of good morning.

He likes to start the day with it because it puts him into a good mood – a light, peaceful one, quelling the jealous, anxious worry that you’ll leave him, that you’ll be snatched up by another man, that you hate him.

And his fixation for spitting doesn’t just end at your mouth – he’ll spit onto your cunt when he’s kneeling between your legs, two thick fingers rubbing the fluid against your pretty folds, taking extra care to let it lubricate his fingertips before he presses quick, steady little circles against your clit.

He’ll spit into his own hand, coating his fingers and slowly pressing them into you, grunting at the way you gasp out and tighten impossibly around them. It’s lubrication, he thinks, and the idea of his saliva being in your pussy makes him shiver, the thought so dirty and taboo and so very good.

And he’d be happy if you wanted to return the favor – he’ll look at you expectantly, irritation evident in his gaze, before he sits down and forces you to stand over him, his own mouth open and awaiting. He likes it for all the same reasons, just reversed – he likes the idea of you wanting to stake your claim on him. He wants to feel wanted and cherished by you, and if you were to spit into his mouth it’d be direct evidence that you want him, at least in a sexual capacity.

It’s thrilling, frankly, and it leaves Sanemi eagerly swallowing, immediately attacking you with passionate, needy kisses and wandering hands that swiftly find purchase in groping at your ass.

He just thinks it’s romantic, and he’ll do everything in his power to win points with you. Anything to get you liking him more, craving him more.

BIGGEST FANTASY:

Despite holding status as both a Hashira and your captor, Sanemi is very, very shy about asking you for any sort of deviation in the bedroom. It’s a combination of things that hold him back – fear of rejection, mainly, but also embarrassment because he’s worried that you’ll think he’s strange for wanting to try certain things.

Namely, Sanemi desperately, desperately wants you to sit on his face.

He has no sexual experience and hadn’t even been aware this was an option until he’d accidentally overheard a conversation between Uzui and a (very uncomfortable) Giyuu, and while he’s ashamed to admit it he’d stuck around, eavesdropping just around the corner as Giyuu asked the older man what exactly that meant (only to very quickly regret it, his cheeks flushing a light pink and not even bothering to make up an excuse as he hurried away).

It’s where the woman sits down on the man’s face, giving him better access to pleasure her with his mouth! It’s quite flashy, and a good view, too.

Sanemi had been flustered at his words, too, but had spent the whole day struggling to get the thought out of his head. Fantasies about eating you out and making you fall apart with just his tongue and fingers had long been circling through his head, keeping him up at night and forcing him to wrap calloused fingers around his cock, holding the scrap of fabric from your kimono he’d managed to snag between his teeth, groaning and growling at the mere thought of what you taste like.

But this?

This is risqué, vulgar, perhaps even crude – and something he grows more and more antsy to try with each passing day, unable to stop his gaze from lingering on your thighs, biting his lip and imagining the way they’d feel around his head.

He generally likes sexual positions and scenarios where you’re getting most of the pleasure, genuinely getting off on the idea of being useful to you in the bedroom. And he finds the idea of being so surrounded by you – his sight, his hearing, his taste, his smell – enticing, loving the idea that he gets to spoil you by working at you for hours and letting you ride his face, all the while getting to indulge himself in all things you.

And he truly wants you to use him – he wants you to grind your hips against the expanse of his tongue, to let your clit press against his nose and hump at it. He wants his entire lips, chin, and cheeks to be smeared with your release, to have it seep into his skin and soak in so that he has a piece of you with him always, a reminder that you let him touch you, pleasure you, that you want him.

“Are you sure about this, ‘Nemi?” You ask, biting your lip and watching as he scowls. He’s laying down in front of you, clothes thrown off to some other part of the room and his cock already half-hard, flushed a deep pink color.

He’s cocking his brow at you, embarrassment creeping up his spine. He knew you’d find this weird – stupid Tengen, giving out stupid advice.

“Yes, hurry up!” He snaps, swallowing and looking away for a moment to collect himself. Excitement and anxiety eat away at his stomach. He’s surprised you’d agreed to this, given the way he’d very haphazardly and defensively presented the idea. He’s pleased, of course, but now there’s that familiar self-imposed pressure to make sure that he preforms perfectly, that you enjoy every minute of it, that you’ll be satisfied and happy with his performance.

When you still don’t move, his scowl morphs into a frown. He opens his mouth to speak, to reluctantly tell you that you don’t have to unless you want to, but your small nod and footsteps towards him snap his jaw back up.

He’s practically brimming with anticipation, fists clenched at his sides.

You step over him, slowly kneeling down and standing on your knees. You’re hesitating, shuffling forward but scared to lower yourself those last few inches, and Sanemi grumbles underneath you.

“I don’t fucking bite,” he starts, hands coming up to grip at the plush of your thighs. He guides you up further, moving you forward and forward until your cunt’s directly above him, a shaky exhale brushing against the sensitive skin of your folds and making you shiver.

“Now just sit down.” He tells you, squeezing his fingers as if imploring you to just do as he says. You lower down but still leave most of your weight on your own legs.

He inhales deeply, the sound filling the room and making you blanche, embarrassment eating away at you. Sanemi groans at the scent of you, the familiar musk making his cock throb even harder against the confines of his pants.

He’s slow when he starts – kitten licks against your clit and large, flat licks along your folds. His eyes are fixed on you’re the whole time, staring and transfixed, trying to note every minute, small change in your expression.

He’s steadily tonguing at your clit now, and a moan rips its way out of you before you can really stop it. Closing your eyes, you focus on the feeling of his tongue against you, his fingers pressing against your thighs, the brush of his hair against your bare skin.

But then he’s suddenly grabbing onto the globes of your ass, pulling you down down down –

“Sanemi!” You gasp, the sensation so much stronger now that you’re flush with his face. He’s using his strength to pull you down – muscles flexing in an effort to keep you still and exactly where he wants you.

Lilac eyes stare up at you half-lidded, the taste of you clouding his senses and leaving him eagerly licking for more, slurping at you with lewd sounds that only serve to get him harder and harder.

Soon your stationary position isn’t enough, though, and he’s guiding your hips in a forwards-backwards motion, effectively grinding you against his lips and noise. Your breath catches as the action and Sanemi swears he sees stars – you’re so damn pretty, and Tengen had been right about the view. He can see your face, feel your thighs around his head, and see your pretty tits from up close.

He’s gripping onto you so tightly that you can’t even try to break the control he has over your movements – he’s pulling you across his face in a rhythm that makes your breath stutter and your hands blindly reach out to steady yourself on anything nearby. It ends up being the wall in front of you, both palms laying flat against the paneling as you pant and sigh his name. His nose is pressing against your clit, the sensation only causing you to shake as he slowly builds up your orgasm.

He pulls away for the smallest moment, licking his lips and squeezing your ass even harder, kneading at your cheeks and spreading them apart from one another. “Use me, ride my face.”

You blanch at his words, doubt settling in your chest, but at the insistent tug of your cunt back down onto his face, you can only shakily sigh, taking his advice and slowly starting to gyrate your hips. The response is immediate – a groan of satisfaction from Sanemi, his tongue efforts doubling as you control the pace, smearing your cunt against his skin and feeling like you’re suffocating him.

He’s in heaven, meanwhile, tasting you with a fervor and lightly bucking his hips, the phantom ghost of your touch through his clothing making his mind spin. You’re so damn pretty and perfect and lovely and when you’re using his face like your own personal pillow to hump and fuck, how can he complain?

He can’t, which is why he’s groaning equally as loudly as you when you reach your high a few minutes later, your shakes and shivers against his skin leaving him drooling at the sight of your back arching, tits jutting out and your thighs clenching even tighter around himself. You’re so attractive like this – all sexy and adorable even when he’s doing such filthy things to you, and it’s the sight and knowledge that he’s the one making you feel this good – that it’s his face and tongue and cheeks and body – that are getting you to violently jerk and moan his name, fresh rounds of slick dripping against his tongue and making him groan tightly against you.

And you’ll be able to tell just how much the mental and physical pictures affected him because once he’s had his share – pulling four or five orgasms out of you with just this method – there’s a distinct wet spot over his trousers, seeping across the fabric and leaving everything thick and warm with cum.

But don’t worry – there’s plenty more where that came from that he’d love to you.

Plenty.

[greeniegirl23]

Alastor As A Father (Son Version)

- 10 hours. You had been in labor for the second time in your life and it lasted 10 fucking hours...

-As the doctors tended to your newborn son, you quickly grabbed Alastor by his throat and growled in his ear. "If you ever put me in this position again I promise I'll throw you out of the hotel so the Angels can erase you during the next extermination!! Are we clear?!"

He gulped, dangerously aware of your seriousness. "Crystal.."

- Back to your newborn. He was similar to his sister when she was a baby. Your son wasn't a crybaby., not even in the slightest. Only whimpering or whining when he wanted something. It took a lot to make him actually cry and when he did you both knew he was hurt or you'd probably have to kill somebody.

- This time around, Alastor had decided to step up his parenting game and started doing some research. Starting out with some baby books that Charlie lent him from her Dad. He became very invested in your child's development and even tried to convince you that your daughter might have been a 'slow' baby in her toddler years.

"Al, for the hundredth time our daughter turned out fine!" You groaned, rinsing off a plate and handing it too him to dry. "You can't believe everything those books say, especially when they're so.. statistic based."

Alastor huffed. "Darling, according to the book she should have started walking earlier than when she did. Assuming that it's true, I don't want the same for our boy. They will have to protect each other when we're no longer around. Which means he's going to have to be a strapping young gentleman and there's no better time to start than now."

- Unfortunately, this started a somewhat heated argument between you. Alastor was frustrated that you couldn't see how important it was to get an early start, while you were pissed at the fact that he thought your very intelligent, very capable 13 year old was slow and that he was putting too much pressure on your 4 month old who still enjoyed chewing on his own feet.

- As much as you fought for him to understand your point, Alastor became an immovable boulder and you were too dull of an axe to crack him open.

- This stressed you out for two reasons. One, the potential for your son to grow up underneath insane amounts of pressure at such a young age was high. Two, you knew Alastor would sneak behind your back to mold this boy into who he believed he should be and unfortunately, there wasn't much you could do about it.

- You had to trust that in time Alastor would learn from mistakes he made. Until he did though, you promised to be there emotionally for your son and to stop your husband from going too far.

-As your boy grew, the fears you had for him began to come to light. Alastor was just as harsh as an old master. Despite your son's grades, physical strength, and domestic skills for a boy, it still was never enough for his father. It was bad enough the point where your son exclaimed that he hated his father.

"He's never happy with me!" Your now six-year-old child cried in your chest after another incident of Alastor's cold hearted nature. "I drew a picture of him today in class, got all A's on my assignments and he just brushed it off! I don't understand.." He sniffled. "Did I..-Did I do something bad?"

"Of course not Sweetie," You said, trying to comfort him. He's tears soaked your shirt as you tried to come up with a plan to put a stop to this madness.

"Then why doesn't he love me..?"

- The sharp pang in your heart that you felt in that moment brought you and your husband back to a pretty foul argument that went unfinished years prior. Giving that man a piece of your mind once again felt good and this time he was going to listen regardless of if he wanted to or not. How dare he make your child feel that way?! Much less make him cry!

"The boy is too sensitive." Alastor groaned, flipping through his news paper. "He's crying over absolute nonsense."

"He's been crying because you've been on his ass like white on rice since he was three months old!" You exclaimed. "All he's trying to do is impress you but you shoot him down and strap him with more work and expectations. He's six, Alastor!"

Alastor growled. "If he's so obsessed with feelings like love and acceptance, then clearly I'm failing at my job as a parent. Do you think the people of Hell care about utter gutter trash like that? I'm making him strong so can protect himself and his sister, to protect you if I should meet my second demise. Why don't you seem to understand that?!"

Sadness took over your features as you realized that Alastor had blinded himself by his own worries. "Your job as a parent is to feed them, cloth them, give them shelter, and to be there for them. That counts being there emotionally!"

Finally Alastor had enough, "He'll be fine, this conversation is over." He grumbled, preparing to walk off to dismiss you again.

"No, it's not!" You yelled, getting right in his face to show you weren't backing down. You knew he'd never lay a hand on you or anything of the sort, but the tensions were high and you needed his full acknowledgement.

"Our jobs as parents are to protect our children, but your so worried about preparing them for this godforsaken place until you can't even save your son from yourself!" You backed away for a second, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"Do you realize what he could become from your neglect? He could be the next fuckin' Jeffery Dahmer or Ted Bundy all because of your efforts to make him "strong"." You sighed, shaking your head in confusion and disappointment as your eyes grew glossy. "Alastor you weren't ever like this with our daughter. Sure you were a bit overprotective of her but you still allowed her to be a child. So why do things have to be different for our son?.."

- Alastor looked at you for what seemed like an eternity. The moment lasts so long as your tongue grows thick in your mouth. With an angry huff after what seems like forever, he just, walked right by you. Grabbing his tail coat and heading out the door.

- To say you were shocked was an understatement. Immediately you fell to your knees and started to cry. Weeping for yourself, for your son, because your husband was too damn stubborn sometimes, and because you weren't strong enough to stop him.

- You came to the conclusion that you needed some space. Quickly you gathered your children and their belongings, made a call, and went back to the place where it all started.

- Charlie welcomed you with open arms, happy to see you once again and offering you a shoulder to cry on if needed.

-You took her up on that offer, as well as Vaggie while the other patrons enjoyed the company of your kids. Angel Dust even recommended a shopping day with everyone, for old times sake. Your daughter agreed happily in her monotoned voice while your baby boy seemed quiet.

- As you ran back the events of the night to your friends, they both seemed equally as concerned as you were for your son's well-being.

-Speaking of which. You hadn't seen or heard from him in a while now. Last you checked, he had gone in the kitchen to get a drink. You asked if anyone had seen him since, only to get a sound of reverberating "No's"

- You panicked. Running to the kitchen only to find the window open and one of the knives on the counter was missing. A note hung on the curtain, quickly you read it.

"Daddy made me cry and he made you cry too. I think it's his turn to cry now. I'm sorry Mama.."

A disturbing chill crawled quickly up your spine as you ran back out into the lobby screaming in fear.

-You gave Husker the note as Charlie demanded the car to be brought around so you could stop your son's psychotic break.

"Don't you think we're overreacting a bit? He's six and like 4'3 he can't have gotten far." The grumpy cat said.

"This is Alastor's kid we're talking about, do you really think he's your typical elementary school boy? She sliced someone's arm off when she was eight!" Vaggie exclaimed, referring to your daughter who was now trying to console you.

"Our Dad was gone before we left home, maybe he's not back yet?" She inquired hopefully.

"Sweetie, I didn't tell him we were leaving. If he's gone out he always comes back around 10:30 to say good night to you and your brother. It's 11:00, so I'm sure he's home by now."

-As you, Charlie, Vaggie, and Husker hopped in the car to speed off to your home. You couldn't help but pray to God that something would stop your son from going through with something so cruel.

- Alastor sighed as he walked back into his home. It was wrong for him to talk out like that and his reprimand from Rosie was finally what helped him understand that.

-He was ready to apologize to you and to his son. Expecting you to appreciate his change of heart and maybe even earn his son's forgiveness.

-What he didn't expect, was an empty house. Nor the note on the fridge explaining where you were. It has a few tear stains on it and he cursed himself for making you cry. As he read it, part of him wanted to go to the hotel and apologize to you there. The other part of him realized he had pushed you away too far and maybe, just maybe you needed some time alone to reel in your thoughts.

- Slowly, he made his way up the stairs into your shared bedroom. Smelling like whiskey and feeling slightly depressed. His smile was maintained of course, though it was small and forced to whoever might see it.

- He flopped into bed. Rather ungracefully but he didn't care, there was no one around. No one to scold him or ask him if he had a hard day.

- The house creaked as the night wind blew through his window. His face was stuffed in a pillow as he smelled the faint scent of your shampoo. Flowery, like his Mother used to wear.

-She was always there for him. Kind of like you were always there for your family as well. Both him and your children looked to you for inspiration, love, and affection. Which made him feel even worse for putting you in such a position earlier. Here you are, giving him children, making time for them and him, while also trying to make time for yourself. Fighting against your own husband just so he could see what was important to you, only for him to brush it all off in a hissy fit because he couldn't handle being told he was doing a bad job at being a good father.

-Now, when you asked him about this at a later time. He told you he's unsure of how it happened. He can't remember if he was so wrapped up in his thoughts to the point he wasn't aware of his surroundings, or if your son may be part snake instead of part deer.

-But what he does remember is turning on his back just in time to stop the butcher knife from impaling him straight through the heart. How the hell this person got into the house and into his bedroom without making a sound is something Alastor would never know.

-Whoever the hell had lost their mind to do such a thing was about to become a stain on the wall because if their was one thing for certain and two things for sure Alastor wasn't in the fucking mood until he realized the familiar figure in the darkness was his own flesh and blood.

-His son. His own son was straddling his waist, struggling against his Dad's 137 year old strength at just six and a half years of existence. Alastor didn't understand what was going on, why was he doing this and where were you?!

"What are you doing?!" Alastor yelled. Trying to figure out what on earth was happening.

The boy stayed silent and screamed out something close to a war cry as he used his entire body weight to push the knife closer to Alastor's chest.

"I'm talking to you boy and you'd better answer me this instant!"

"Shut UP!" He shouted. "You don't get to talk to me! Not after what you did earlier today!"

Alastor's heart stopped a bit after he realized that his son had overheard the argument between the two of you.

"That was a misunderstanding! Your mother and I may have exchanged words but everything will be alright, now put the knife down!"

The child growled something feral. "It's not going to be okay, things between us were never okay! From the moment I started training under you, you've been nothing but a big bully. I'd go crying to Mom when you weren't around because all you ever saw me for was worthless! You never loved me and I was willing to accept that because Mom promised me that you'd change in time, but after today I don't believe that anymore!"

With a swift move, the boy had broken the arm lock he was in and lifted the knife over his head to plunge into the man he called Father. Tears weld in his eyes as he swung forward, his pupils changed similar to Alastor's and his voice became distorted with anger and malice. For the first time, Alastor swore he knew how his victims felt as his own smile grinned mercilessly back at him.

"YOu MaDE my MoTHeR CrY AnD FOR thAT, I'LL mAKE SuRE YoU NEvEr MaKE EIthER oF US cRY AgAIN!!"

- It was like a switch in his head had been flicked on. Alastor watched as his son swung his blade forward in slow motion. Memories of himself and what he had done to his own father came whirling back.

- The past seemed to have repeated itself. What a sick and twisted universe. He remembered the arguments between his parents. The sounds of glass shattering and his mother's begging for the pain to stop. He remembered peaking into her room to see her covering her face with makeup to hide the bruses. The fake smiles she'd give him in the morning while she cleaned up the mess from the night before. The deep silence between him and his Dad when he stabbed him to death in the very same way. He tried to hide the body on his own, he didn't want mother to be mad at him or find out. But she did and may have indirectly set his path down a dark road by justifying his actions at 14 years of age.

"Murder ain't good Alastor," She said, sitting him on her lap as she rocked with him in her rocking chair. Her sweet Southern drawl was like music to his ears. "You shouldn't have killed that man, n' I won't try to pretend what you did was right."

"Yes ma'am..." He replied sadly, on the verge of tears until she spoke again.

"Listen Allie. Anyone who kills another person, just for the sake of making someone else smile, is alright with me. I know the only reason you did what you did, is because you felt like you had to and you couldn't stand to see me gettin hurt no more." she sighed. "I just wish I was strong enough to leave when I had the chance, n maybe' you're lil would have stayed clean from the blood of my mistakes.."

"M'Sorry Mama.."

She smiled. "No Baby, I'm sorry. For makin' you live through that when you shouldn't have. My sins are now yours to bare. N' sadly there ain't much I can do to fix that." Fixing his glasses on his face, she gave him a hug and kissed his forehead. "Promise me you'll stay strong Alastor, bare these sins with a smile and don't add on to them unless you absolutely have to."

"I promise." He replied. Swearing silently to make her proud and for her to keep smiling, no matter what.

-Everything made sense now. Truly it did. Why you were so concerned. How he became so blind. What he buried deep within and how he manifested into the situation he was in now.

-But unlike his father, Alastor had a choice and a chance to do better before it was too late. Quickly, the Radio Demon sat up and snatched the knife out of his son's grip mid swipe. The blade clattered to the ground and gave his child the loving embrace he so desperately needed.

"I'm sorry." He said with sincerity. "I should have never made your Mother cry, nor should I have ever made you feel less than appreciated. I am proud of what you've done, who you've become, and who you're going to be."

He felt the small body go rigid. Freezing in confusion as his Dad actually told him how he felt for once. Alastor continued. " I'm sorry for making you think I never loved you. In fact, I love you so much that I wanted you to be perfect. To be strong, to protect your sister, and your mother when I'm not here anymore. But I put far too much on you too soon, which was unfair to you in a number of ways. I only wanted the best for you, but I couldn't see that I was harming you in the process and I never, ever wanted that..."

Pulling away from his son, one of the biggest pride and joys he had down in this disgusting cesspool. He wiped the child's tears away and gave him a genuine smile.

"You are my son and I love you, I apologize that it took me so long to say it, but it is true. I'm proud of you for being willing to protect your mother, even from me. I had to do the same thing around your age to the man that would have been your grandpa, but he was terrible to us and deserved to be slaughtered. You're already further ahead than I am, so please. Forgive me and I promise our relationship from here on will be much, much different than what it's been."

- Alastor watched as his son hiccuped and sobbed. Nodding his head and mumbling out a meek "Okay.." He dove in for another hug and Alastor allowed him to stay there and cry tears of relief for as long as he needed to.

- Not too long afterwards, you came barreling into the house and raced up stairs. Calling Alastor's name and for your son until you literally kicked down the door to your bedroom, stopping at what you found and thanking God for hearing your prayers.

-The others came after you in a frenzy but quickly let out breathes of relief at the sight of your smile. Quietly you 'shhhed' them and stepped aside to see the same beautiful sight you did.

-There on your king sized bed, sat your husband and his son. Alastor was propped upwards against the headboard, using pillows to support is back while his head was supported by your son. The six year old was snuggled up against his father's chest, sleeping soundly underneath his throat while Alastor's arms seemed to form a somewhat protective cage around him.

- Smiling happily, you closed the door to the room and headed downstairs with everyone else. Heading back to the hotel and leaving a note for Alastor in the morning that encouraged him to catch up on lost time with your second-born. Satisfied that their bond was finally forming into something beautiful.

(Wow, I did not plan to get as invested in this as I did. I just let the story flow and got this, honestly I love it and would like to see some of my theories between Alastor and his Mom come to fruition. Anyways, I'll see y'all in the next post! Don't forget to comment something you might want to see me write next :D P.S Why the fuck did I post this without editing it..?)

[hamsternella]

Obsessive!Kenji Sato x Gn!Reader || Headcanons

tw: obsessive attitudes, violent behaviors, manipulation, minors DNI

From: Ultraman: Rising

A friend asked me to write something small about him, so here it is. It was quick and uncorrected, sorry😔

I really liked the movie. What do yall think??

GENERAL BEHAVIOR

Kenji is unbearable.

At the beginning of the relationship he was a nice guy, with a smile and a dazzling look.

But as the months passed, he began to transform into an unrecognizable man.

A scary person, if you were honest with yourself.

Forget about late nights out,

Forget about turning off your cell phone,

And above all, forget about your alone time.

I mean, why would you want to be alone?

What do you say, excuse me? 'Stress' and 'depression'? Discomfort, you say!

Kenji is handsome, wealthy, and has property at your mercy that you can walk around if you are bored and 'depressed'.

In fact, what the heck is that 'depression' stuff?

Kenji starts monitoring your moods and health to keep you up to date with routines to de-stress.

He has little patience, so you'd better be obedient.

Kenji wants the best for you. He doesn't understand what your attitude is about; but he's willing to give you as much love and understanding as he can…

... unless your needs begin to interfere with his needs.

In that case it will be impossible to make him see reason.

SPECIFIC

Kenji is the kind of partner who gets angry easily when you don't give him attention or if you don't understand his jokes. This guy has a short fuse. There comes a point in the relationship where you feel like you're walking on eggshells; and eventually it's hard to even enjoy the quiet moments without thinking that all of a sudden he'll be upset about something, taking it out on you.

Still, Kenji is not the kind of person who is violent to a fault. He would never hurt you physically - he'd rather be dead than have to hurt you that way. Instead, his way of handling you is with words: he manipulates you emotionally and psychologically all the time, or when he thinks it is necessary to keep you in line.

He knows all too well how vulnerable you are because of your mental state - depression and anxiety eating you up inside. So, in addition to not understanding, or not wanting to, he uses it to scare you or make you feel guilty; as well as responsible for his emotions and needs.

Other than that, Kenji is a person who likes to provide for his partner. At your disposal, if you have been good, you will have money, constant outings, as much as you want them, and purchases of all kinds in his name. Kenji also prefers to have you close by so he can easily monitor your activities; so you can live next to him and in various properties throughout his travels around the world; or in any type of home you wish. He is willing to fulfill your fantasies.

And of course, you also have to be willing to comply with his.

One of Kenji's dreams is to be able to form a strong and united family with you. He wishes to have you happy, with one or two children included. At the beginning of his relationship with you he was only looking to satisfy that voracious hunger he felt when he saw you. But as the years went by, he began to desire you with a strength that went beyond something as banal as that; and his future plans, each and every one of them, seemed to be tied to settling down and starting a family.

What could be more beautiful than to have you at his complete mercy? To have no one else by your side, and to depend on his strength, love and affection forever. Kenji is willing to sacrifice anything if he can, not only keeping the world at peace by being Ultraman, but also protecting you from yourself; and giving you something that will force you to stay by his side if the time comes when you decide to leave.

He can be very good, especially if it's for you. You just have to be obedient and do what he tells you; life is easier if you don't have to make decisions, right? Just relax, stay at home watching his games, and when you least expect it, you'll be back in his arms. You don't have to make any effort: the world will be safe thanks to Ultraman, and in the privacy of your home, you will be safe from that same world and your boring old reality thanks to Kenji.

NSFW

Thanks to the training, Kenji has a good rhythm and can stand enough to take the time to satisfy you in everything you want. He can adapt to many of your fantasies, as long as they don't involve having to hurt you too much physically.

When giving orals he prefers to receive them. He is not a person who has a lot of experience, to be honest, and that partly embarrasses him. All he wants in the end is for you to have enjoyed it, but he knows he's going to lose out if he has to put his mouth down there; so he prefers to have you on your knees, and he'll take care of the bare minimum with his own mouth before using his hands.

Anal sex? A thousand times. He loves to use your ass; he usually touches it even if you're in the living room, watching TV, or if he catches you off guard. He just rubs it with his hands or caresses it deeply with a couple of fingers as he feels the heat welling up in his lower belly. The first time you offered it to him was quite a show: the guy couldn't keep the excitement in his eyes, and it was hard for the session not to end quickly because of the pressure that threatened to make him cum immediately.

Virgins? He doesn't really care. Why would he be worried about you being one or not? To Kenji, what you did or didn't do before him doesn't matter. The only important thing is what happens when you're with him… which is funny, because he's got you under control all the time. But yeah, more or less like that.

CNC? Definitely not. He loves the idea of having you at his mercy, of course, but he doesn't like those shady fantasies at all. He worries about doing you a lot of harm, and although he himself has even admitted to having similar thoughts about you, he finds it difficult to put them into practice for the same reason.

Aftercare? You can be sure of one thing with Kenji: after any sex session, comes the best aftercare of your life. Get ready to relax in his arms, with a torrent of kisses or caresses and sweet words, barely understandable between his tired murmurs. He knows where to touch you to have you surrendered to his charms. Sleeping next to him, at least when he is in a good mood, is the glory.

[wisteria-lodge]

Male Crying in the Harry Potter Books

(this is a clean-up of an earlier post, incorporating some of the excellent feedback & additions I got.)

Men do 32% of the crying in the Harry Potter books, even though they represent 66% of the characters (pretty much as expected).* However, I’m interested in why the crying happens, and what it says about the characters. Because for the ladies, crying is pretty neutral - they all cry, and for all sorts of reasons (tired, frustrated, stressed, emotionally overwrought...) Bellatrix, Augusta Longbottom, Ginny, Tonks… all cry. Hermione cries thirty separate times over the course of the books. There is a point where where the narrative framing judges them for crying too much (Cho) but mostly it's a non-issue.

Male crying though, is something that gets mocked (by Slytherins.) Pansy calls Neville a “fat little cry baby,” and after Rita’s article (falsely) says that Harry was crying, Draco comes in with “Want a hanky, Potter, in case you start crying in Transfiguration?” There’s also “D’you think [Hagrid]’ll cry when they cut off his hippogriff’s - ” right before Hermione slaps Draco. So making fun of people for crying is bad right? 

Let’s get into it. 

1 : Crying because of a death

The most acceptable reason for male crying. Mostly it happens *right* at the moment of death, or possibly at the funeral/next to the grave. Severus cries over Lily's letter (the ripped one which Harry later finds) which is certainly grave-adjacent.

In Book 3, Harry cries while talking to Lupin about hearing his parents dying (although the narrative voice DOES let us know that he’s kind of embarrassed about this.)

“Harry suddenly realized that there were tears on his face mingling with the sweat. He bent his face as low as possible, wiping them off on his robes, pretending to do up his shoelace, so that Lupin wouldn’t see.” 

This attempt to hide hide tears shows up a few more times. Sirius *also* cries when talking about Lily and James' deaths... or does he?

[Harry] was pointing at Black, who shook his head slowly; the sunken eyes were suddenly overbright. "Harry...I as good as killed them," he croaked. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me. ... I'm to blame, I know it. ... The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies...I realized what Peter must've done...what I'd done. ..." His voice broke. He turned away. "Enough of this," said Lupin, and there was a steely note in his voice Harry had never heard before.

@strawberrybasilsorbet analyzes this passage extremely well:

"Suddenly overbright" is a particularly memorable descriptor for me. What an unusual way to describe having tears in one's eyes! It verges on euphemistic. "His voice broke" is much more direct, but still relies on implication instead of mentioning tears outright — which, considering that the intended audience is young readers, could be seen as subtle. Like Harry in the example above, Sirius clearly considers crying something to be ashamed of: he turns away to hide his tears. And in this moment, the sentences also become short. Halting, stilted. The narrative voice evokes Sirius's feelings here instead of describing his actions in detail. It isn't until later in the scene, when Sirius and Lupin begin to take action, that we get a straightforward description: "[Sirius] approached Lupin and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face." But even here, it is an understated observation. We don't get a description of actual crying, or even holding back tears."

Sirius also cries in Book 4, while listening to Harry describe seeing the shades of his parents come out of Voldemort's wand.

At this point, Harry found he could not continue. He looked around at Sirius and saw that he had his face in his hands.

@strawberrybasilsorbet continues,

"[this] example is more ambiguous — Sirius might be crying, he might be trying not to cry, or he might just be overwhelmed — but either way, the scene reflects a similar approach to strong emotion. Sirius covers his face to hide his sorrow; the narrator makes a short, declarative observation that leaves a lot between the lines. These scenes suggest that masculine tears are most respected by the narrative when they are (1) in response to grief, (2) irrepressible, despite the character's attempts to obscure or prevent them. Sirius and Harry are the two characters who represent this most clearly, although Lupin's sudden steeliness in the PoA scene implies that he shares this perspective. (This is also reflected in Lupin's decision to switch from talk to action: he cuts the conversation abruptly when Sirius begins to cry, demanding that Ron hand over Scabbers immediately. He is likely trying to spare his friend the ordeal of further emotional vulnerability). The narrator's voice seems to share this instinct, giving Sirius the dignity of subtlety when describing his emotions. This contrasts strongly with characters like Peter, whose tears are described in vivid and humiliating detail. What I think is especially revealing is how...discreet?...the narrator's voice becomes when Sirius is the character who is crying.

There is this slight *fan dance* quality present, where we see Sirius before he starts crying, and then again after he has already cried. But really don't see him actually crying.

Harry also has an interesting, sort of delayed reaction to Dumbledore's death:

Dumbledore had weakened himself by drinking that terrible potion for nothing. Harry crumpled the parchment in his hand, and his eyes burned with tears as behind him. Fang began to howl. He clutched the cold locket in his hand so tightly that it hurt, but he could not prevent hot tears spilling from his eyes

There’s a lot going on in this moment: Harry is tired, frustrated, disappointed, overwhelmed. But we still get that note that tears are something that ought to be hidden, and that even though Harry is trying to stop them, these happen to be irrepressible.

Crying because of a death: Full Breakdown

Amos Diggory: 1 (Cedric’s death) 

Arthur Weasley: 1 (Fred’s death)

Harry Potter: 4 (Hedwig, Lily, James, Dumbledore)

Rubeus Hagrid: 4 (Dumbledore, Buckbeak, Aragog, Harry) 

Sirius Black: 2 (Lily, James)

Severus Snape: 1 (Lily)

Argus Filtch: 1 (thinks Mrs. Norris is dead) 

Xenophillius Lovegood: 1 (thinks Luna is dead) 

Fillius Flitwick: (thinks Ginny is dead) 

Ron Weasley: 1 (Dumbledore’s funeral) 

Elphias Doge: 1 (Dumbledore’s funeral

2: Crying because of pain

You’d think this one would also be acceptable. But… not really? Dudley cries when Vernon hits him (but Harry doesn’t.) Peter Pettigrew cries when he cuts off his own hand, Saw style, but it gets framed as blubbering weakness.

Our last guy crying in pain is Book 1 Neville, after he breaks his wrist during flying lessons. He also “sniffs,” while walking into the Forbidden Forest for detention, which *might* count as crying? But really, Neville cries surprisingly little. We get a lot of “looked as though he might cry” and “on the verge of tears”... but that's not actually crying. And I think that’s because… early-books Neville, yes we’re supposed to see him as a little pathetic. But definitely not as pathetic as Dudley or Pettigrew. @blorger writes:

The characters who cry for pain are crying because they're just Not Man Enough (and that's wormtail's biggest failure as a character, isn't it?). Neville, to me, is the perfect encapsulation of JKR's attitude towards crying: he is constantly on the verge of crying, especially in the first books, because we're meant to feel a sort of benign pity for him, his weakness makes him amiable, yes, but there's still strength in his character (he can stop himself from crying! see, he's brave!). Neville does Suffering well, and nothing shows one's character to jkr more than how they handle suffering.

Crying in pain: Full Breakdown

Dudley Dursley: 1 (hit by Uncle Vernon)

Neville Longbottom: 1 (broken wrist)

Peter Pettigrew: (hand cut off)

Bonus almost crying: 

Dudley Dursley: Fake crying

Neville Longbottom: “looked as though he might cry” “on the verge of tears.” 

Professor Quirrell: “looked as though he was about to cry”

3: “Childlike” crying

Sometimes the people who cry are literally little boys. No one is going to judge infant Harry for crying when Voldemort is in the house, or little Severus for crying when his parents are fighting. Interestingly, when Myrtle is talking about Draco crying in her bathroom, Harry assumes she’s talking about someone much younger: 

“There’s been a boy in here crying?” said Harry curiously. “A young boy?” 

But of course, when an adult is crying in a childlike way, it immediately becomes… pathetic. Again we have Pettigrew, who “burst into tears. It was horrible to watch: He looked like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.” In the Horcrux cave, crying Dumbledore is described “like a child dying of thirst.” Which is also meant to be pathetic, but in more of a ‘Harry has to be the adult now’ sort of way. Also, the potion seems to have made Dumbledore mentally regress back to his youth, so it’s *closer* to a literal “child crying” moment. 

(I considered putting Dumbledore drinking the potion in the ‘pain’ section, but at least in the book I think it’s clear he’s mostly in emotional rather than physical pain.)

Where this gets messy is with the house-elves. House-elves are not children, but they are presented as childlike. They are small and in-your-face, direct even though their problem-solving tends to be very convoluted/not especially logical. I like the present-tense, no pronouns way they speak, but I can’t deny it is kind of baby-talk adjacent. And… house elves are *really* emotional. Dobby, Kreacher (and Winky) cry a LOT. If I had to guess, I would say JKR likes treating house-elves as childlike so it’s more of a surprise when it turns out that one of them was behind everything. But considering that they are slaves, it is gross - considering that one of the main real-world justifications for slavery was ‘slaves are childlike, and therefore unable to take care of themselves.'

There’s also Hagrid. With seventeen separate instances of crying, Hagrid easily cries more than any other guy in the Harry Potter books. And… well… he’s also presented as oddly childlike. He seems much more like Harry and Ron’s contemporary than a peer of the other professors - which is weird, since  if he went to school with Voldemort fifty years ago, he’s in his sixties now. But still, he’s helpless in the face of criticism, he’s comically out of his depth whenever he deals with the Ministry, he’s constantly letting things slip or drastically misjudging danger levels. The first three books all use “Hagrid gets in trouble, the gang has to bail him out” as a plot point, and in Book 4 his sideplot with Madame Maxime gets treated like a schoolboy’s first crush, with all these jokes about him wearing suits that don’t quite fit, and trying and failing to style his hair.

Childlike crying: Full breakdown

Rubeus Hagrid: 13

Dobby: 7

Kreacher: 3

Peter Pettigrew: 1

Harry Potter: 1 (infant)

Severus Snape: 1 “while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner.”  “it was unnerving to think that the crying little boy who had watched his parents shouting ” 

Albus Dumbledore: 1 "like a child dying of thirst"

4. Crying because of strong emotion

The difference here is... does the character try to suppress the crying, or not? If they do try to suppress it, then it stays respectable, almost on a level with grief-crying. If not well... that means that the character crying is meant to read as a little pathetic, a little femme or (lets face it)... both.

Take this example of Ron crying after he destroys the locket horcrux:

Ron was breathing heavily: His eyes were no longer red at all, but their normal blue; they were also wet. Harry stooped, pretending he had not seen, and picked up the broken Horcrux. (...) “After you left,” he said in a low voice, grateful for the fact that Ron’s face was hidden, “[Hermione] cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn’t want me to see..."

Hermione is allowed more tears because she is a girl, but there does come a point where she has to hide them or else run the risk of being perceived as crying too much by the narrative (like Cho.) In terms of the boys - again, we've got a moment like Sirius and Remus have, where Ron is (correctly) hiding his tears and Harry is (correctly) doing a 'I'm going to protect you from further vulnerability by kind of changing the subject / pretending that I didn't see you cry.' Also, similarly to the Sirius example, the description of Ron's crying is subtle, almost euphemistic ("wet eyes.") We are not using the word cry, or tears, or anything like that.

Look at this next excerpt, of Percy's reunion with his family, and especially at how the crying of all three characters is handled:

Mrs. Weasley burst into tears. She ran forward, pushed Fred aside, and pulled Percy into a strangling hug, while he patted her on the back, his eyes on his father. “I’m sorry, Dad,” Percy said. Mr. Weasley blinked rather rapidly, then he too hurried to hug his son. “What made you see sense, Perce?” inquired George. “It’s been coming on for a while,” said Percy, mopping his eyes under his glasses with a corner of his traveling cloak.

Molly is crying buckets, no problem. Arthur gets almost-crying or euphemistic crying. And Percy is explicitly crying, not trying to hide it, and even gets the slightly comedic imagery of trying to wipe his eyes without taking off his glasses.

And well, JKR respects Percy less than she respects Arthur. As @arkadijxpancakes puts it, "When it comes to Percy, I'm still surprised how subdued his crying in that scene is. Because, yeah, Rowling does respect him less. She also has a tendency to write him in a pretty feminine manner. It's still a stark contrast to his mother, however." Even though we catch him in a serious moment, he's still slightly ridiculous Percy.

So from this, we can see that this male heightened emotionality is meant to look a bit comedic - like when Oliver Wood cries when Gryffindor wins the Quidditch cup "to highlight that his weird priorities are funny and slightly ridiculous," ( @blorger.) We also don't see Hogwarts-age Severus actually cry, but considering his nickname is “Snivellus” (ie “crybaby,” since “sniveling” is a synonym for crying) I'm assuming he does. Just the word "Snivellus" is clearly supposed to funny and a little pathetic.

Slughorn has an interesting instance of crying at Aragog's funeral, not out of grief for Aragog, but out of a maudlin sense of togetherness, nostalgia, and camaraderie. It *is* supposed to be funny that he's crying over a giant spider he just met. Like Percy, Slughorn is also a bit femme-coded: a flashy dresser with lilac pajamas, who loves his treats and fancy dinner parties, and is well-connected without being ambitious the way Lucius is. He also is aligned with pureblood-supremacy, but hyper avoidant of violence and confrontation... just like Draco.

Draco of course gets a BIG crying scene in Book 6. We hear about him crying once from Myrtle, and then see it first hand: 

Malfoy was crying — actually crying — tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin.

The narrative voice takes a second to let us know that he was ACTUALLY CRYING, just to hammer in that this is something unexpected and not-normal. I think I want also to attribute Draco’s tendency to cry - and cry because he’s overwhelmed, scared, lonely - to the character’s slight femme coding. And the fact that JKR clearly sees him as a bit pathetic.

The most surprising person to land in this particular category is Dumbledore. I was surprised he cries as much as he does, at such unusual times, and with none of the "manliness" of a crying Harry, Ron, Sirius, or Arthur. He cries when he sees Snape’s doe patronus - because of love or just because he’s emotionally overwhelmed. He cries all through the Horcrux cave, primarily because of guilt. He cries twice during the King’s Cross Station vision-quest, once because of his complicated feelings about Harry while he asks for forgiveness, and once over … Grindlewald.

“They say he showed remorse in later years, alone in his cell at Nurmengard. I hope that it is true. I would like to think he did feel the horror and shame of what he had done. Perhaps that lie to Voldemort was his attempt to make amends . . . to prevent Voldemort from taking the Hallow . . .”  “. . . or maybe from breaking into your tomb?” suggested Harry, and Dumbledore dabbed his eyes.

I think Dumbledore gets all these tears because he is actually, deliberately queer coded. JKR announced that Dumbledore was gay just a few months after Book 7 was published, and I think she had that character interpretation in her head as early as Book 6. My proof of that is Dumbledore's increased emotionality - and also this interesting passage from Book 6: 

This younger Albus Dumbledore’s long hair and beard were auburn. Having reached their side of the street, he strode off along the pavement, drawing many curious glances due to the flamboyantly cut suit of plum velvet that he was wearing. “Nice suit, sir,” said Harry, before he could stop himself, but Dumbledore merely chuckled.

Now, okay. Wizards out and about in the muggle world often wear unusual colors like purple and emerald green. However. That adjective flamboyantly is only used one other time in the entire series, to describe Fudge’s hand gestures. Here, it is used to describe clothes, a purple velvet suit which is honestly more than a little bit Oscar Wilde. And “flamboyantly gay” … those are two words often heard together. 

Also, correct me if I’m wrong, but I am pretty sure this is the only opinion about clothing Harry ever expresses aloud. @niche-pastiche hit the nail right on the head with the observation that "Nice suit, sir" is SO the response of a young adhd boy in the early 2000s trying not to say "thats gay." 

And so that's my say. In JKR's head, crying isn't "manly," so if you are crying, it's because you're a woman, you're a child, you're funny/pathetic, or you're ambiguously femme-coded. A noble single man tear is allowed at times of intense grief, but otherwise you have to turn your head away.

Crying because of strong emotion: Full breakdown 

Draco Malfoy: 2

Severus Snape: 1

Albus Dumbledore: 4

Horace Slughorn: 1

Oliver Wood: 1

Arthur Weasley: 1

Percy Weasley: 1

Ron Weasley: 1

*My list of 208 Harry Potter characters comes from TV Tropes, which had the most complete breakdown. I am excluding characters from Cursed Child and the Fantastic Beasts Films. Also, please tell me if there are any instances of crying that I missed.

[astrow0rldx]

PAC: Messages to your mental health 🌑

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

yoooo everything came out creepily clear. take what resonates tho & use your intuition to pick a photo.

Pile One:

｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ❤｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ❤｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ❤｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ❤｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ

(OVERALL: Queen of Pentacles & The Empress. also: 2 of cups, Ace of Swords, three of pentacles, & the star.)

Self worth, Self Value. A lot of you are trying to find & embrace your femininity. Be grateful, live in gratitude. Be grounded, be responsible. "Don't be a Lady, Be a Legend." Focus on building the life you want because you deserve it. Your beautiful, Your safe and secure, Your everything you need.

I could see that your probably focusing on a connection, could be platonic or friendship, but any type of bond in your life. You might have something you want to know about them, and need some clarity. You might want to build with this person, a connection, a goal, anything. Have Faith be Optimistic.

It's not saying this is a bad part so if this has not happened YET, if theirs a person in mind you might need to talk about, and build with them on some type of plan you guys have going on. Let them know information.

Bonus; I picked an artist that came in my mind & shuffled:

Of all the ones Of course I'd want the one who doesn't want me Of all the thoughts Of course I'd think that you'd know how to love me

But damn, I wish you did Oh, what I would give Just to be in your possession But I won't influence Or try to convince You, that I'm the right decision

(Heavy Taurus & Libra energy)

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

Pile Two:

｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ❤｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ❤｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ❤｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ❤｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ

(Overall: 8 of swords, Judgement. & King of Pentacles, Five of pentacles, Wheel of fortune, The Chariot, Strength.)

Overall you stressed out & you need a blunt. lmao.

By the picture you picked & the cards, you need your bag. and your probably feeling a lot of lack in your life. you feel like material will make you fulfilled & secure. your trying to have hope but what you need to do is use that Chariot & Strength energy. Chariot don't fall to obstacles, neither as Strength. You can get it if you want to.

I see that overall is the 8 of swords & Judgement. So you may be, what should I call it. Delusional & Heavy Anxiety. Stuck in your overthinking, floating in your anxiety and judging yourself & everything around.

Instead build on your insecurities so you can chase the security to make you feel fulfilled. Not trying to scare you, but their may be entities around, or just energy like people in your life that don't want you to enlighten & grow. mentally, emotionally, financially. They want you to be stuck in fear & judgement. An emotional frequency that's scientifically stronger than Love is Authenticity. So if theirs a certain college path, or some type of path or thing you personally want to uniquely do, do it!

..... my username is literally astrow0rldx. So I'm going to refer you to your astrological chart. Look at the house of your Uranus for what you should be different in & revolution. If your feeling stuck & need some more strength and responsibility, look at the house of your Saturn for where, but how to express it in your daily routine is the planets or signs in the 6th house. And if you want to know what you should become in this life, look at the house of your North Node for your life purpose, your Sun for where to find your identity, your chart ruler or rising sign for the big bingo on the outlook you should have on it. and your Midheaven/Planets on the 10th house that everyone talks about, which is how people are going to see you, as a place in this world. your reputation in society.

I shuffled:

Can't stand it, backhanded They wanna see us fallin' apart You know that I love you So let me into your heart

Let me into your heart Do you really love me? I'm gon' get you, girl, ahh

Girl, you really got a hold on me So this isn't just puppy love

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

Pile Three:

｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ❤｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ❤｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ❤｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ❤｡･::･ﾟ❤,｡･::･ﾟ

(Overall: Five of Swords & Hanged man. & Wheel of fortune, Nine of wands, Ten of cups, Death, & Ace of swords.)

So my stomach dropped before I pulled your cards. Are you guys emo's, or am I talking to fellow witches. Are you down rn, cold, resentful, vengeful? Casting spells, ready to kill or something.

Your feeling competitive ready to fight & go to war. Has there been an ending, some news you got. HMMM.. very dark pile. for some people, could be the complete other way around where your the victim in the situation. and your feeling defeated, defenseless & that fate is just beating you down.

I shuffled:

OMGGGGGGG! The music video looks just like the photo you picked- ummmmmm. Motels could be literally significant. Very dark music video, prostitution, casual sex. Money, drugs, Sex trafficking, Kidnapping.

What do you mean? Oh, oh When you nod your head yes, but you wanna say no What do you mean? Hey, yeah Better make up your mind, what do you mean?

You're so indecisive of what I'm sayin' Tryna catch the beat, make up your heart Don't know if you're happy or complainin' Don't want for us to end, where do I start?

First you wanna go to the left, then you wanna turn right (Right) Wanna argue all day, makin' love all night (All night) First you're up, then you’re down, and then between ('Tween) Oh, I really wanna know

You're overprotective when I'm leavin' Tryna compromise, but I can’t win You wanna make a point, but you keep preachin' You had me from the start, won't let this end

[kypopkypop]

"Your so beautiful" "I know isn't she" "I was talking about you"

Changbin fluff coming home from the hospital

Warning: Body insecurities, just gave birth, reader get really upset and doesn't feel totally better at the end (I don't know if that really a warning, mentions of nursing/breastfeeding a baby (tell me if I missed something)

She doesn't really feel that much better at the end because I think it's unrealistic for the reader to suddenly feel better after something someone else says. Sometimes your just upset and you need to be upset to make your self feel better in the future if that makes sense. Also don't mind what changbin says I'm bad at comforting people so I tried my best. I think it lacking a little something but I'll try and make it better as time goes on and I get more into writing.

You were sitting on your couch holding you 2 day old baby girl. You had just come home from the hospital a couple of hours ago.

Birth is a very painful, stressful, and interesting to say the least. Your body had changed so much during your pregnancy but it slowly changed over 9 months. Giving you some time to get used to it as your body got bigger.

Birth is nothing like that though. Even if your a little chubby everyone thinks your super cute when your pregnant. Whenever people look at a pregnant person you don't think "hmm I wonder how much weight she's gained" you usually think "aww she looks so good for being 9 months pregnant, her body's creating a life".

After birth everyone losses that mentality but your body doesn't change for at least a couple of weeks. Not to even mention all the different hormones and emotions going through your body during this time.

You think of how amazing your baby girl is and how you would go through labor a thousand time again to have her. Then you look in the mirror and see every part of your self that you liked before you got pregnant has changed.

After having your baby girl your anxiety and depression worsened. It was hard for you to think of one thing that liked about your self. Your self confidence before getting pregnant wasn't super strong or anything but you've never felt like this.

Your mama bear instincts came out. You got so anxious when ever someone else was holding your baby besides your husband Changbin of course. You loved seeing him with her. It almost felt like your only purpose in life was to take care of this baby. You know Changbin would never leave you but it scared you what he thought of you know that you thought your body was "ruined".

Looking at your wonderful baby girl as she's fast asleep in your arms your husband comes and sits next to you. He sits facing you with and arm next to your shoulders. He starts admiring you baby girl too.

Then he looks up at you. You get a little freaked out from how long he was looking at you. You were trying to figure out what would make him do that. Your scared to fully look at him. Scared he'll see how puffy your face is and your dark under eye circles.

"Your so beautiful" he says. You can really hear the emotion in his voice. It almost sounds like he could cry

"I know isn't she perfect"

"I was talking about you" even though you were scared you turned you face to see him. The love in his eyes and the smile that shows up on his face when he sees your full face

"I'm never gonna look the same though. What if my stomach always stays this big. What if....." you start tearing up and you stop talking before you fully start crying.

"Y/n I know you've changed a lot before you got pregnant vs now. But the way I see you will always be the same. I didn't fall in love with you because of your body. No physical changes would ever make me stop loving you. And I know your hormones is making things harder emotionally but I want you to know that I will always be there. And if you ever need a reminder of how gorgeous you are just tell me and I could go on and on. You think our daughter is beautiful and when I look at her I just see a mini you."

You had a lot of tears streaming down your face at this point. Everything was just so overwhelming you couldn't talk. All the emotions of how you felt about your self being contradicted by Changbins words made your head feel like it was gonna explode. But you were trying hard to not let out a sob because you didn't want to wake your daughter.

Almost as Changbin read your thoughts he picks up your baby and puts her in the baby swing. He comes back and scoots you over so your on his lap. "I know it gonna take more than just once for you to believe me but I'll say it as many times as you need." He said as he puts his head and hand on top of yours. You let out the sobs that you were holding in. You hid your face in the crook of his neck as he rocked you. It made you feel like the baby but it really did make you feel better.

After taking some deep breaths to calm down you pull away to look at your perfect husband. He wipes you tears and tells you some more how much he loves you.

He tells you to lay down and take a nap to help you calm down. And being tired wasn't helping with how stressed out you were. It scared you to leave taking care of the baby all to him but he assured you. Anytime you needed a nap during the day that he would take care of her. You have been up all night nursing her. He tries to do as much as he can during the night but when your the only one who can feed her there's not much he can do. So he wants to make it up to you.

He tucks you in on the couch. And as you almost fall asleep immediately you hear him say.

"I love you and good night beautiful"

Also this is my first time writing so don't judge me to hard 😄 also thank you for reading.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for refusing to do anything to help my roommate's baby?

More of a "was I an asshole" rather than "am I an asshole?"

I (21F) am a college student living in an apartment with two roommates, Anna (22F) and Mica (23NB). I've lived with Anna for two years now and Mica for one, and we've all always gotten along great with no major issues apart from the fact that Anna's boyfriend of several years is emotionally manipulative and incredibly insecure and jealous, but that's an issue for another time, except that I don't like him and make no secret of it. I also don't like children, never want children, and crying babies is one of the biggest overload/meltdown triggers I have because it stresses me out and also triggers some violent intrusive thoughts (I have autism and OCD, which both of my roommates know about, but never cause any significant issues and I don't act on those thoughts.) That is to say, I should not and do not want to be around children.

Anna and I live far enough apart over the summer that we only see each other during the school year, and this year I'm a junior and she's a senior. I showed up at the beginning of this school year and lo and behold, Anna is about five months pregnant. Turns out it happened toward the end of last school year, she didn't tell anyone at first, and didn't bother to mention it over the summer (which I'm pissed about). I was NOT expecting one of my closest college friends to be about to have a baby, let alone one that I'm living with.

For the next few months, I helped her out, drove her to doctor appointments, etc, because of course the shitbag boyfriend lives like three hours away (where Anna lives when she's not at college) and refuses to drive over to help her out himself. However, I made it clear that I wanted nothing to do with the baby once it's born. I wouldn't be helping her with diapers, wouldn't babysit, don't want her to put formula bottles on my shelf in the fridge, won't play with the baby or anything. I don't have the patience for that, I don't want the baby in my shit, I work 20 hours a week on top of my classes and homework and do not have time or desire to deal with a tiny human.

Fast forward to when the baby is born, Anna keeps saying she's looking for somewhere else to move, wants to move back full time to live with her shitbag boyfriend, have him help with the baby. Our other roommate Mica helps occasionally with the baby and is willing to do basic stuff and occasionally rocks him to sleep when they're sitting on the couch and stuff, but I refuse. Several months later Anna still hasn't moved out and has barely made the effort she says she will, she talks about the boyfriend a lot but I have literally NEVER seen him in person since the baby was born (he was there for the birth and that's it, drove her to our apartment afterwards since I didn't want to be there, then left again).

If there's ever a time when I'd be the only one home at the apartment and Anna asks me to babysit for a little while, I change plans and always leave so I'm not there even if it just means doing homework at the campus library instead of my room. Anna is exhausted and literally does nothing around the house anymore, never comes grocery shopping with Mica and I because she refuses to leave the baby home alone but doesn't want to take him to the store, I'm doing all of her dishes cause apparently she can't do that either, she asks us to do her laundry and cook dinner and everything for her now and I feel like we're being treated/put into the role of the baby's father.

I cannot stand children, I don't think Anna has any excuse for trying to make us care for her child, she seems to expect us to take care of him while she's in class and she can barely even afford her own share of rent and groceries and stuff let alone a baby (or hiring childcare), and I made it clear even before the baby was born that I wanted nothing to do with him and will not engage with him or do anything for him, and I think my "it's your fault you had a baby, sucks for you, now deal with the consequences" attitude is what might make me an asshole here but I'm so exhausted and my mental energy is always drained from the damn kid screaming and crying and making a mess of the house.

Mica talked to me privately recently and mentioned that they understand that I don't like children and that they're also upset with the fact that Anna can't take care of a child herself when she's a full time college student without a job and a shitty boyfriend who's barely in the picture, but they want me to try to engage more and have a bit of sympathy for Anna and not leave her completely stranded with an infant. I don't want children, I don't want to live with one, and don't want to have to care for one.

It's now April as of writing this and I have since moved out of the apartment (Anna and Mica still live together), I left in January at the start of spring semester when on-campus dorm housing was available and live with another friend whose roommate transferred the prior semester. I still see Anna around campus but I feel like the baby completely ruined our friendship but I still hang out with Mica a lot and occasionally get updates that way. I'm much happier, my mental health is better, and I'm not living constantly stressed and on edge because of the baby, and Anna still hasn't moved in with her boyfriend despite saying she's trying to for months now.

Was I an asshole for refusing to support my roommate and her baby, and essentially giving the ultimatum of "either the baby goes or I do?"

[jenflirts]

mending my broken heart

pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader

theme: angst :)

summary: maybe you're the one...

warning: profanities, grammar, no ghostface and cheating

a/n: based on my feelings :) | enjoy.

Falling for someone isn’t for weak people,

Nor being attached,

Nor loving someone.

These are the feelings that will make you mentally and physically weak, just because you would do everything just to have them, just to give them all your attention, love, and hell, even your soul, but why isn’t it for the weak? Well, only emotionally controlled people can survive these challenges. These are the obstacles that we face when we’re in love and this makes us vulnerable.

We’ve always thought that if a partner loves or falls for you it means they’ve accepted your flaws, insecurities, clinginess, stupidity, good days and bad ones, but sometimes don’t you think that they accepted that because they needed too? Out of pity? Or sometimes just to play you cause they’re just bored. I’ve always thought about falling in love and being vulnerable to a person, but then my overthinking mind stops me from doing so.

Yeah, taking from my perspective—a person that’s been played and got attached too many times just because they showed affection—I’ve been hurt so much that I don’t even count how many times that they scarred my heart and still gave them another chance. I did everything I could just not to fall for someone, but I just can’t stop myself ‘cause it feels like an addiction I cannot control. I keep thinking about the past relationships I had and even thought about the times that I let my heart heal and mend it by myself and yet, I keep longing for the wrong people and their fucked up affections.

And then there’s Tara, the girl that makes me feel special, the person that let me believe that love is worth waiting for, and love really does exist. Tara is the type of person that would really make you fall in love with her and not in the bad way, but because she’s the type of girl that you’ll feel comfortable to be around with, rides with your antics, will help you in any possible way, and makes you love your true self.

Tara and I have been dating for almost 2 years and the truth is I’ve fallen deeply in love with her, she already accepted my vulnerability and I accepted hers so there’s really no turning back. I’ve thought about these feelings thoroughly ‘cause I don’t want to hurt her nor she wants to hurt me, I’ve always wanted to feel vulnerable around someone I trust and love the most ‘cause I don’t want to let people see my true facade. Tara saw something in me that people don’t and she’s been helping me to cope up with that.

Everything has been great ever since I dated Tara.

December 09

It's our finals and both of us are stressed out since both of us picked a hard course and I actually want to do something special for her since it’s our anniversary so I’ve prepared dinner, movies and gifts just to surprise her. I went home earlier than she did so I could prepare the things I wanted to give and the words that I wanted to say; Thankfully, Sam and Mindy helped me to do everything.

“Minds? Do you think Tara would like it if I gave her a promise ring on our anniversary?” I asked the girl as we strolled through the jewelry shop. She stopped her tracks and looked at me surprised “A promise ring? Really? Doesn’t that curse relationships?” She asked as she glimpsed the rings.

A promise ring breaks relationships? Now what kind of fuck-mind would believe that. “And where did you get that information? Is it one of those crazies at the uni?” I joked.

“I’m just telling you that rings don't mean forever,” she said. That’s actually true, but I’m not gonna listen to her and Tara deserves a promise that I will love her forever so I picked out the ring and necklace for our anniversary tomorrow.

I helped Tara go inside our apartment and took the blindfold off. She engulfed me into a hug and kisses all over my face. "Tara, we need to eat" I said as I put her down on the floor.

Everything went smoothly and both ended with a promise to love and hold forever.

December 14

The day that feels eerie and gut wrenching, it feels so slow and bothering. "Minds, Tara hasn't texted me for the last few weeks and it's concerning me" I said as I tossed her my phone to check Tara and I's conversation.

"She also hasn't been going home" I added and groaned loudly.

"Yeah, I noticed that. You didn't confront her about this? But I always see her at the uni tho" She said.

Is Tara avoiding me? Did I do something wrong last week? Did she do something wrong? Did something happen that I didn't know? A lot of things suddenly hits me, I thought about everything that I've done last week ago, but nothing really came into my mind.

It's already past midnight and I'm still going on about Tara. I heard the door open and keys tossed on the counter. I went outside and checked if Tara's here or just Mindy wanted to crash by.

"Tara? Baby? Where were you?" I asked as I sat beside her on the living room coach.

"Sam's and did some thinking, so can we talk?" she said.

Why does it feel so suffocating? The way she looks at me feels so different; it feels empty and drained. I nodded and sat in front of her.

"For the last few weeks I've been isolating myself to you and it felt different after what I did. It's been perfect for the last 2 years and I loved every single moment that we've done, but I think we must part our ways and fix ourselves" She cried.

What? Just like that? After 2 fucking years? She's just going to throw it all away? I was too stunned to speak, my brain was spewing out words, but my mouth can't function properly. I felt my eyes stung and tears rolled down on my cheeks.

"So? That's it? Gonna throw away our 2 year relationship out the fucking window like its nothing? Damn Tara, I don't know what to say nor to react" I said as I wiped the tears that keep continuing running down on my cheeks.

She doesn't say anything, but her eyes tells me differently like she's guilty for not telling me the reason why.

"Tara, what's the sudden break-up? what's the reason? 'cause I know for a goddamn fact that it's not about self improvement shits. Tell me so that we could fix it" I assured her

She shook her head no and keeps sobbing uncontrollably. I went to her and wiped her tears; I held her hands, "Love? what happened? tell me so we could fix it" I said as I gently squeeze her hand.

She slowly stopped crying and let me wiped her mascara tear-stains. "It was at Wes's parties and you were studying for your final lesson at that time. Amber snuck me out and helped me unwind by bring me to Wes's parties then I got drunk and I couldn't control myself and so did Chad" she explained.

I couldn't believe it.

The love of my life, cheated.

The girl that I trusted the most, cheated.

I felt my whole world fell apart. It feels like my heart just shuttered into pieces, it feels like there's a new cut to it. I feel betrayed, angry and disappointed all at the same time.

I stood up and went back to my seat and comprehend what just Tara said. I can't do this right now, my mind is all over the place.

"babe? hey? I thought we were gonna fix these" she said

does she really think there's something to be fix? I gave her my everything and this is how she repays me. cheating on me with my other best friend? damn, that's another form of betrayal.

"tara, get out. I can't right now. I just want to be alone for a moment"

She doesn't understand what pain I'm going through right now.

After Tara closed the apartment door, I tried smashing everything so that I could somewhat calm down.

I sat on the living room floor and thought about the things that I have done on why Tara have to do this. Wasn't I enough? Am I that easy to replace? Is our relationship just out of pity? There's so much unanswered questions that I have on my mind, but right now I just want to be alone and mend my broken heart.

I thought she was the one that’s going to help me mend up the open cuts that people leave on my heart, but I would never predict that she was going to leave a big one.

(part 2 of my lovely, jenna is on-going)

[tonight-i-may-see]

Illicit Affairs (Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader)

[note: MORE ANGST UPON YE. also can u tell im on a tswift kick?]

cw: angst with a happy(?) ending, gn!reader, reader's gender isn't specified.

word count: 1k

Inspo: Illicit affairs - taylor swift & peace - taylor swift

“I have to go.” 

It was like clockwork. You'd meet, spend a few hours together, then he'd go and the next morning you'd have to look him in the eye at work like this wasn't breaking your heart.

This time, you decided to push things.

“Why? Who's waiting?” You ask, obviously pointing out the fact he wasn't married anymore and hadn't been for quite some time. The divorce had happened months before the first time the two of you did this routine, so why exactly was it he had to leave so soon?

He’s silent for a moment, then deeply exhales. “No one. But I don't have my go-bag if we get called.” 

A spark of irritation fizzles through you, so you push harder. “What, you can't go get it on the way?”. It's clear by his face he doesn't want to have this talk, and another sigh rolls out of his nose. It was typical really, he only ever wanted to have the good stuff with you, no discussions that might require actual use of his brain cells. To him, you were supposed to be easy, just a way to relax after work that he didn't have to stress over.

Of course, he was more than aware of how unfair that was- you were a human being with very real feelings, reciprocated ones, even. But after Haley he just wasn't ready to focus on anything but Jack and work…which was made difficult by the fact you were work. You were there every day, giving him that hurt puppy dog look that broke his heart a little every time he saw it. Those eyes only made him push you further away, though, so you'd resigned to only allowing them when you thought he wasn't looking (He could never take his eyes off you, though you had no idea that was the case.).

“Can we not do this tonight?” Aaron asks, and you’re startled by the weakness in his voice, by the tightness that was building to a crack. Looking up at him, you can see his eyes glisten in the lamp light, an even more startling reaction to your nagging questions.

“Are you-...are you crying?” You ask in a whisper, worry knitting your brow and bringing a frown to your lips. “Aaron, hey-” 

He tries to shy away, but you don’t let him for once. You pull him close and wipe his cheeks, still concerned about how out of nowhere this reaction is from him. “I just want you to stay, what’s going on?” 

It’s silent for a long while, you assume he’s collecting his thoughts and calming down, so you just keep one hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm to ground him. Five minutes pass before he can look you in the eye, and when he does your heart shatters. The tears just won’t stop. As he falls into your arms, you rub his back and try to push through the confusion at how fast things changed emotionally. “What is it, Aaron…? Honey?” You ask softly, moving so he can sit next to you on the bed.

“I wanna stay-” It’s a little difficult to make out with the tears and the fact he has his face pressed against your shoulder, but you hear it. “I wanna stay,” He repeats “But that makes it real.” 

Time slows, and the cogs start to turn in your head. Losing Haley twice over must’ve been the worst heartbreak he’d ever experienced, and she wasn’t in the field. You are. Sure, that means you’ve got each other’s backs, but it also meant your lives were on the line daily. Sure enough, he finishes your train of thought for you.

“I can’t lose you.” 

You don’t even try to say he won’t, because you know he might. Every time you step out of the bullpen and into the field there’s a target on your back, and you’d be a fool if you tried to ignore that. But was that really a reason to break each other's hearts?

“You might.” You say stiffly, running your fingers through the longest parts of his hair. “But if you keep this up, you’ll lose me too.”

It was something you wanted to let hang, so you did. One hand still running through his hair as you watched him process it…he was tired, you both were, the case you were on right now was one of the worst and was only devolving more. What would usually have been an irritating question with snide comments had become the final straw. Unwittingly, you’d broken him. Eventually, he looked up at you from where he was leaning, and your heart broke. He didn’t have to speak for you to know how he felt. 

“I know…I know it’s scary. I’m terrified.” His bottom lip trembles slightly, and you think about how you’d fight people tooth and nail to never have to see him so upset again, about how it gripped at your chest and stung your eyes every time you took in a breath. “But we can be scared together.”

There was no way to fix this, not alone, but therapy wasn’t something to bring up right now. Right now, the man in your arms clearly needed comfort and support, and that’s what you gave him. Hours pass with him half-cradled in your arms like a child, and eventually you wake up next to him, the pink light of a sunrise flushing his cheeks just like his own heartbreak had the night before. It was odd, seeing a man you knew to be so strong completely relying on you for stability, but at the same time it felt right. If Aaron needed a rock, that’s exactly what you’d be, there was no question he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. This wasn’t going to be easy, you’d have a lot of explaining to do to the team and your families, but you’d do it together.

Afraid, but in love without denial.

[redbleedingrose]

I believe that the second Rhys finds out that you are very ticklish, he will at random times of the day just start tickling you.

I’m very sensitive, emotionally and physically, so the second that someone touches a ticklish part of me, I’m reacting so quickly. Hands and legs are being used to defend myself from being tickled.

PLEASE!!! This male is a fucking MENACE!

Rhysand would find out by pure accident. Let's start with the fact that the High Lord of Night has his hands on you at all times.

All times.

I think part of it is that he feels extremely reassured by your presence. Rhys puts on a really good front of being in control, but on the inside, he is stressed. He is scared. He wants to be better. He wants to be the best high lord for his people. Not just the fae of valeris, but the fae of his court... including the fae in Hewn City and Illyria. He wants to be more of a high lord than his father was, and he just struggles in figuring it out.

But when you are with him??? His mate?? His high lady??? He feels in control, on the outside and on the inside. He knows that you are with him, that you are there for him, that you will support him on ideas that sound good, and that you aren't afraid to tell him (in private ofc) when you think he needs to make adjustments to his plans. You are his girl. His wife. You are his partner. He knows that no matter what, you will have his back.

And that?? You???

It gives him everything he needs to be the best high lord he can be.

So yes, he likes to have his hands on you. On the small of your back, resting on the plush of your thigh, pressing at your nails and knuckles with the pads of his fingers, stroking at your palm and the back of your hand, gripping at your hips or waist, fingers running along your spine and up to the back of your neck. It reminds him that you are there. Right by his side. A demanding female who is just as clingy as him, who basks in the raspy praises whispered into your ear, who glows at the peppered kisses smattered on your cheeks. He adores it. He adores you.

Anyway, he is attuned to every part of you, so when he feels the slight shiver you get, the gasp and squeal that has you squirming away when his nails trace the veins on the inner part of your wrist... a kind of thrill runs through him. Cuz now he knows.

His pretty, dreamy, angelic mate is ticklish.

And now???? Now, he is gonna abuse this knowledge to the MAX.

Any time he is bored now, you can guarantee that male is gonna go on the prowl to find you so that he can jump you. If Rhys is bored, you can count on the fact that you will be tossed, either onto the couch or your bed, and pounce on top of you to press his tattooed fingers into your sides. You can't help your reactions of kicking and squirming and cackling.

Any time Rhys needs a pick-me-up, he will scrap his nails along your knee. When your knee jerks in reaction, his entire hand covers your knee cap to prevent it from banging into the top table. And he shines like a burning star, teeth shone with the apples of his cheeks rounding out, when you give him the dirtiest looks of betrayal.

If you are ever grumpy with him, glaring at him with suspicion over the top edge of your book with your legs stretched out and ankles crossed because especially he took his tickling this morning a little too far, resulting in the Illyrian baby gets smacked (lightly of course), the male will give you the biggest puppy dog eyes, the violet hues swimming with a mixture of mischief, hilarity, and pleading, with the cutest of pouts of his pretty lips, pawing at your calves to get you to forgive him.

It takes a little bit of begging on his part, maybe even a good orgasm, to get you to allow him to touch you again. You don't hide your skepticism, though, sneaking furtive glances at the high lord who merely stares back with the illusion of complete innocence.

The scandalized look you send him when he tickles your heels has him rolling on your bed with belly-deep, delighted laughter.

Reader being suspicious of Rhys:

Rhys being the picture of innocence with his honeyed smile:

[slaughter-kin]

SFW alphabet: John 'Soap' MacTavish

warning! not proof read!

heart banner by cafekitsune

 A= Affection (How Affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

He is extremely affectionate. I 1000% believe his love language is physical touch, so he is constantly wanting to hold hands, cuddle, or just even be near his partner. Also big fan of PDA he isn't afraid to show his love for his partner in public. It also increases dramatically when he is drunk, he would not let his partner go for a second.

" I just love ya.. s'much mo ghraidh"

"I know johnny, I love you too"

"I dont know wha' I... wha' I'd do witout ya"

"Johnny I know, I don't know what I would do either but you need to let me go, I need to go pee"

" Great idea bonnie! Let's go together"

B= Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

As a best friend he would be super supportive, always in your corner. and he would always back you up against family members (his or yours) , friends anything like that even if he disagreed with you, he would not do it publicly he would wait till he get home and then be like OK yeah let’s talk about that lol

but he would be such an amazing best friend/partner.

C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Love love loves cuddles. To John MacTavish any situation could be improved by cuddling. Stressed out? Lets go cuddle, get your mind off things! Happy? Sounds like a great time to cuddle! Sad? aw that's terrible... wanna go cuddle and tell me about it? Also loves to hold his partner in his arms by them laying their head on his chest or by being the big spoon. Would never admit it but he also likes being the small spoon time to time.

D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He would love to settle down, have a big house with wee barins, and of course a loving partner. He does help clean often when he is home, but isn't the best at keeping tidy. As much as I love this man, he would be a pest. He would leave towels on the bathroom floor or leave the cabinet doors open. As for cooking he is pretty decent and makes better breakfast food than dinner.

E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) 

To end something with his partner that he is in love with it would have to be something awful, like cheating, abuse, or something of that nature.

He would do it face to face not over the phone or text. I also don't think he would do it in a public space, probably in the privacy of his own place or theirs.

F= Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Again he would love to have a spouse. I feel like he would know they are the one after a couple of months but wouldn't actually purpose until a year or so into the relationship.

When he does purpose though he doesnt want a long engagement, he asked because he wants his partner as his spouse and he already treats them as such so why wait?

G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) 

He is usually pretty gentle with his partner, he knows he is strong and could accidently hurt them. Unless they explicitly say they don't mind him being rougher *wink wink*

Emotionally? he can be a hothead and can sometimes fly off the handle but quickly reins it in and would prefer not to fight but to actually talk things out.

H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Hugs are extremely common when you are the partner of Soap. he likes to be held by his partner and vice versa hold his partner. He would like to wrap you up in big bear. Hugs and just never let go and most hugs with soap. You would have to be the one to pull away because he never wants to.

I= I love you (How fast do they say the L=word?)

so for this, I’m going to give two scenarios.

If you would like to think that you are just a civi and he meets you when you guys start, you know taking interest in each other and date that way I feel like the I love youse would probably be around the eight-month mark just because with his job, sometimes he is away for his job for longer periods, so I feel like he would have to get to know you before he said that I do believe, though he would fall in love a lot sooner than him confessing to it, so he would probably fall in love around the 3 to 4 months mark, but will keep that information to himself until he’s 1000% certain that the feelings are reciprocated.

OK, in another scenario you work with him so with that I do feel like at first he would flirt a lot with you, and if you did not take him seriously, then you guys would become friends to lovers, mutual pining/yearning situation, and since you do know the world that he’s in with his job. I feel like then he would say I love you a lot sooner.

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He is very confident in your relationship, but he still does get jealous from time to time especially if you are out and some other man/person is trying to hit on you, or if you’re at the bar and somebody keeps trying to come up to talk to you he would get jealous. It all depends if he’s drunk or not if he’s drunk, he starts getting very handsy and wants to pull you away but if he’s not drunk, then he just stares at the person and tells them to fuck off, either way when he is jealous it always leads to some more spicy times if ya know what i’m sayin’

K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they  like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are always super passionate/loved filled. You do not have to think for a second that this man does not love you, just by the way he kisses you. I also feel like he does a lot of whole face kisses like he’ll grab you by the face and just kiss all over your face repeatedly until you’re a giggling mess.

 For him, his favorite place to kiss you is on the lips. He will literally kiss you anywhere, but his most favorite place is to kiss you on the mouth.

 His favorite place to be kissed is on the back of his hand. He really likes it when you were holding hands and you just pull your hands up and kiss him on the back of the hand, it just makes his heart melt.

L= Little ones (How are they around children?)

This man loves children that’s not even a question. the cod fandom fight over a lot of thing but one thing that is agreed on is this man wants a lot of children.

he is just always keeping them entertained and is just overall amazing with them.

i need to give him children

M= Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

as i mentioned in part 2 of my hcs for him he is a little psycho that likes to get up at the ass crack of dawn and go running. so if that’s not your thing, he will let you stay in bed.

but that doesn’t mean that when he gets home, if he still find you in bed he won’t try convincing you to wake up and getting in the shower with him by laying on top of you all sweaty.

N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)

not like that ya nasties

most night with him are spent cuddled up in bed probably spreading family gossip and watching movies.

idk why but i get the feeling he would like camping out in his back yard and watching the stars

O= Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) 

I do feel like this man is a certified yapper, so I feel like he would start revealing things pretty early on especially if he’s interested in you.

if you want to imagine it as you are a civilian, and you two take interestin each other, before anything gets too serious he would definitely talk about his job and explain to you what happens so that you’re sure that you want to continue a relationship with him.

However, if you want to imagine that you are either part of Task Force 141 or something adjacent to that and you already know about his job, then it’s just at that point due to getting to know each other on a more deep and personal basis.

P=Patience (How easily angered are they?)

like I will mention in U, down below he does struggle with frustration and anger, but he doesn’t take it out on his significant other or gets upset with them a lot I do feel like he can get angry a lot at certain situations, but with his significant other, the only time that he would get angry as if it’s like a really, really, really really bad fight.

Q= Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) 

Soap is extremely intelligent, i mean he had to be he’s a demolition expert, and has a great memory. So if you mention your interest in something he will definitely remember it.

R= Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Probably when he took you to meet his family for the first time, whether it be just as friends at the time or a few months into the relationship (however you want to imagine it) and you loved his family and they in return loved you back. I really do believe he is extremely family oriented so this just solidified in his mind you were the one.

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) 

Again, this goes for all of the task force 141 men, but they are all extremely protective. When you were out, they are constantly on the lookout for any potential sketchy scenarios and constantly just keeping an eye out on you to make sure that you are safe.

and if you do not already know self-defense, he would teach you self-defense or pay for a class when he is deployed so that you can learn self-defense.

T= Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He genuinely would put so much effort into special things for his partner, like date nights, anniversaries, and things like that, but something will always go wrong.

 For example, for an anniversary, he would try to make you breakfast in bed and he would accidentally burn the toast because he was trying to multitask while cooking and left the toast in the toaster for too long. Or booked you a reservation at a really nice hotel but it was on Valentine’s Day and it was extremely crowded so the food was taking forever so you guys just decided to leave and get takeout and go home.

 He definitely puts an effort, but sometimes things just don’t go as planned.

U= Ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?) 

like I mentioned in my headcanons part 2 post, most of his negative emotions first manifest as anger and frustration (!!of course not like abuse or anything!!! he just gets very frustrated and can sometimes snap when he doesn’t mean to) but as soon as he calms down, which is usually pretty quick, he’s constantly apologizing.

(i just copied this from my own post because i’m lazy)

V= Vanity (cow concerned are they with their looks?)

The normal amount? Like he keeps up with his personal hygiene and he likes to wear normal clothes when he goes out but he doesn’t have a eight step skin care routine or anything like that.

W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

1000% yes, he likes to be around his partner and feel comfort in their presence. So whenever they aren’t around he feels a little lost, obviously not with his job but i’m talking everyday normal life.

X= Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) 

is a little afraid of dogs, I hc that he got the scar in his chin from a dog bite when he was little. It’s not that he doesn’t think they are cute or would be mean or hateful towards one, but he’s just extremely cations while around them.

Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He wouldn't stand for the obvious like sexism, racism, homophobia, etc.

One ick, I think he would get, is whenever someone chews loudly, like smacks their food. I just feel like it would drive him up the wall.

Z= Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)

He is a stage 5 cuddler. He loves to constantly hold his partner while you sleep. He likes to half lay on top of his partner, and when you wake up, you have to literally pry him off you.

He doesn't like to sleep in pajamas, I feel like he would prefer sleeping in his boxers and or naked. He is also a total cover hog.

thank you so much for reading! again i always appreciate feedback! love ya <3

[altocat]

all 50 of those Honest fave character prompts for Sephiroth

( @izunias-meme-hole )

........*cracks knuckles* OKAY.

1. Do you project onto this character?

All the time, every day. Like Sephiroth, I can often be avoidant, depressed, and overly attached to my loved ones. The struggle is real lmao

2. Did you always like this character?

Before falling into fandom hell, I didn't really notice him much other than Kingdom Hearts stuff. Or the occasional thirst post online.

3. What first drew you to this character?

Crisis Core making him a sad soft baby that everyone is mean to lmao

4. Did you initially dislike/hate this character?

No. I always thought he had a cool design and a badass voice.

5. If this character were a woman, would you honestly still like them? Or in reverse, what if they were a man?

Of course! Sephiroth is a fascinating character regardless. His backstory is very unique and I don't think that would change.

6. Do you have any nicknames or pet names you use for this character?

I mostly just call him Seph. Sometimes Kittyroth. Sometimes "Mr. Compassion" whenever I'm being sarcastic about him. And sometimes just SMUGFUCK because that's what he is.

7. Does the character’s age matter to you?

Nah. Like I said, he's a fascinating character regardless.

8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you?

I feel like there are certain aspects of his character that you NEED to keep in--his catlike pupils, silver hair, etc. They are plot-related indicators of his heritage and genetics. Thirstposts aside, they are reminder that he is a lab-grown monster with alien blood running through his veins.

9. Does this character remind you of anyone you know? Does that affect how you see them?

Not really. Seph is pretty unique. And honestly I'd rather not know someone like him irl lolol

10. Do you see yourself in this character even without projecting?

Physically? Hell no. Emotionally? Sometimes. But that's on rare occasions where we can actually tell what he's thinking and feeling.

11. How did you “fall in love” with this character?

Watching Crisis Core cutscenes one rainy night in 2021.

12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?

AU Redemption arc trilogy in which Zack and Aerith save Sephiroth from himself and he dismantles Shinra to become the planet's hero.

13. If you could draw effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw for this character?

I'd really like to illustrate a lot of fic scenes. Especially the trippier Jenova-focused ones.

14. Are you physically attracted to this character?

...Yeah lmao But I don't ship myself or my self-insert with him because NO lolol I think he's aesthetically pleasing but I don't associate myself with him in any romantic sense. That's just weird to me.

15. Are your thoughts surrounding this character usually sexual, non-sexual, or a mix of both?

Non-sexual. I'm more interested in his character progression/fall into villainy. Like yeah he's attractive and there are some seductive aspects of his personality. But he's just more interesting to dissect as a villain.

16. Have you ever cried when thinking about this character? Genuinely?

Several times lolol usually after First Soldier updates.

17. Have you ever felt physical pain over this character? (ex: physical heartache).

Miiiight have happened once in dms with other fans (thanks @heraldofcrow)

18. Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both?

SUFFER. SUFFERRRRRRR 😈NO COMFORT FOR YOU ALL IS PAIN AND ANGUISH.

19. Does this character serve as a stress ball/ security blanket for you? Something you run to after a bad day to feel safe or happier?

Oh totally. All the time. Imagine cute aggression but it's more angsty lol Angst aggression.

20. Do you feel affectionate towards this character?

For Sane!Sephiroth, yes. Very much so. Not so much after Nibelheim. Then he's just an evil little shit who needs to get clowned by Cloud again.

21. Are your feelings about this character platonic, romantic, or familial? All of these feelings at once maybe?

Platonic-familial. He's my precious baby boy. Who I have to hurt. LET ME HURT HIM.

22. Do you think you will always love this character?

I hope so! Assuming Square doesn't do something stupid.

23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?

I'm HERE. lmao There's your evidence.

24. Do you ever dream about this character? If so, describe a dream you once had about them.

I never have dreams about him and it makes me SO MAD SZDFGHFDSA EVERYONE ELSE GETS BLORBO DREAMS EXCEPT FOR ME.

25. What kind of fan-fiction do you read about this character? If you don’t read fan-fics about them, why not?

I mostly like character studies. Or slow-burn AU fics with him. I'm currently reading The Fear of Falling Stars and it's sooooo good.

26. If you look for this character’s name on AO3, what tags are you including or excluding?

It really depends on the fic tbh.

27. Do you like to ship this character with other characters or do you prefer not to?

I SHIP HIM WITH EVERYONE *feral noises*

28. Do you get defensive about this character? If yes, then why?

Only in select instances. I don't like the dudebro logic of "well Sephiroth was always arrogant/evil even before Nibelheim and he can't be vulnerable or sensitive because that's not badass" because those are fundamentally not true. And an extreme disservice to his writing.

29. Do you affectionately bully this character?

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

30. Are you especially sensitive about this character?

He makes me sad. His story is heartbreaking.

31. Are you ashamed of liking this character?

Nope. Not at all.

32. If you could make this character a meal, what would you make them?

Pumpkin soup, of course!

33. Are you “blinded by love” for this character or do you accept any flaws they may have?

Oh not at all. I have said many many times and will keep saying that Sephiroth does not deserve a happy ending after everything he's done. He deserves to be destroyed for good. He's NOT a good guy, not any more at least. He's caused so much damage in so many horrible ways. There's no going back from that. I love the guy and I feel for him. But that's still no excuse for what he did.

34. Does this character inspire you with little things in your daily life?

Uhhhh no.

35. Has this character ever prevented you from sleeping because you can’t stop thinking about them?

@ me whenever First Soldier updates.

36. Do you feel a spiritual/soulmate connection with this character?

Idk. Probably not. He's my angsty trauma son. But I wouldn't go THAT far lol

37. Is your love for this character a secret from people you know in real life?

Nope. I will literally never shut up about Sephiroth to family or friends lololol

38. Do you tend to joke more about dying or killing for this character? Both? What causes the distinction?

NO because Sephiroth is a villain and the goal is to not become like him lolol

39. Do you feel lovesick over this character?

Nope. He just makes me casually distraught.

40. Are you very empathetic towards this character? When they feel a certain way in the story, do you feel those emotions too?

Very much so. Like I said before, his story is heartbreaking. I've ugly cried about him so many times in the past.

41. Do you prefer to interact with this character directly via self-insert/reader type content? Or do you enjoy seeing them mostly with other characters in the story and/or your OCs?

Other than background OCs, no. I prefer mostly just his relationship with canon characters.

42. If you could, would you write this character a song or poem?

It'd be cool to do something creepy with his relationship with Jenova...

43. What type of weather makes you think of this character?

Rainy days. Because he's depressing.

44. Which season makes you think of this character?

Fall.

45. Do you feel as if you are intimately familiar with this character?

At this point, I'd really like to hope so. They have certainly added a lot of new stuff that feels on point with my previous ideas for him. But I'm open to new stuff too!

46. How much do bad interpretations of this character upset you?

It really depends on how they characterize him as a person before Nibelheim. I don't really like how people sometimes equate his evil/smug/arrogant post-Nibelheim personality with his CC-era one. They're really completely different.

47. Does this character ever make you laugh sincerely?

He made some the FUNNIEST goddamn faces in Rebirth, just sayin'.

48. What’s your favorite physical/design feature for this character?

R trilogy has the best overall design. Hair, eyes, and the sheer SIZE of him. All perfect.

49. What’s your favorite personality trait in this character?

Sane!Seph: His love for his friends

Insane!Seph: Him being a huge petty dick just for the sake of it

50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

UHHHHHHHHHHH I'm just going to cheat and say THIS ENTIRE COMMUNITY because Seph-fans are BEST fans and we get along and get shit done. Best content. Best fandom space. No in-fighting or drama on his character. We're ALL peak 😎

[tarotwithavi]

What first impression will your future lover have of you?

Let's find out what first impression would you leave on your future lover / future spouse / long term partner .

⚠ these pictures do not belong to me. This is a general reading so take what resonates and leave the rest that doesn't.

If you want to support me please leave a note.

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Thank you for your precious time! I hope you have a great day! ily ♡

PILE 1

Hello pile1, I'm really excited to interpret the cards you got! So first things first I'm getting that they will see you as someone who is not afraid to stand out of the crowd and do your own thing. Like you're not afraid to try new things . You are not afraid to dance without music, sing out loud, smile at strangers, do your little silly dance while eating something very delicious. I'm also getting that they'll see you as someone who can smile and laugh in stressful situations. You're someone who stands out of the crowd. You bring happiness wherever you go like sunshine or some of you might even be called by that nickname. They will see you as someone who has seen and experienced a lot of things in life. I'm also getting that you can meet them in an educational Institute or at someone's birthday party/ wedding/ etc. Of course these are not the only situations you can meet them but the one's I'm getting specifically. Also they'll see you as someone who has been through the same things as them , you both could mirror each other. They'll see you as someone who is emotionally mature and available. Someone who's not afraid of commitment. I'm getting that they'll see a mother/father figure in you because I see that they might have mommy or daddy issues or both idk. They'll see that you are not what you show the world. You could literally be crying on the inside but still have a smile on your face or vice versa. It's like they'll see right through you. They will see you as someone whom they'll like to settle down with or start a family with.

I'm also getting that if you're a closeted gay/lesbian/bi/trans they'll also see that because they have been in the same situations as you. They'll see that you're stuck somewhere and they'll help you out. This person can even be your gay awakening if you know what I'm saying. Leo / Aquarius / Taurus signs are really coming out here . Numbers 2,5,10 could be important for you. You'll see rainbows when you meet them or this could be important.

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PILE 2

Hello pile2, I feel like some of you might be attracted to pile 1 so make sure to check that out too. Okay so let's start with your reading. Your future lover will see you as someone who works for themselves. Someone who is not a slave of others and knows their worth. They'll see you as someone who won't settle down for anything less than what they desire. They'll see you as someone who is not affected by the words of others and always has their heads high. Someone who is very strong both physical and mentally. I'm getting that some of you can have curly hair/wavy hair or your hair will stand out the most to them. Someone who can offer a fulfilling relationship but they'll also see that you'll not be looking for a relationship at that time or it may seem like that to them. They'll see that you have abandonment issues and you don't want to be Left behind in the crowd. You fear that people will replace you with someone and that you're not anyone's first choice/priority, but that doesn't stop you or have any control over you. You shine for yourself. You're free like a bird and always put yourself first. They'll see you as someone who shines the brightest even when they are just sitting down reading a book or sitting in the corner with their headphones on. You'll be very noticeable to them. They'll see you as someone who is firm on their words and thoughts, if you decide to do something you'll do it nothing can change your mind. Another thing is that they'll notice your eyes first. You might have cried a moment before or they'll see a lot of sadness in them.

You might be rude to people or don't really interact with people because you fear that you'll unintentionally hurt them. But for some of you I'm getting that you guys will not just give your time and energy to people easily. If someone wants your time they'll have to work for it. Your future lover will find you very adorable and cute no matter if you will be younger or older than them. July month could be important for you. They could have K, V, U, A in their name.

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PILE 3

Hello pile 3 , how are you guys doing? I hope that you're doing great! Some of you might have been attracted to pile 2 too. For you I'm seeing that your future lover will see you as someone who is hungry for success or wants to achieve good things in life. Someone who is working hard for their passion. They will see you as someone who might struggle with choosing what's good for you or just not very in tune with your thoughts and actions. You might meet them on your way to achieving something , on your way to success or when you will be getting recognition for your work. They'll see you as someone who's very artistic . You might be listening to music, getting praised for your drawings/sketches etc. When they will notice you. They'll see you as someone who's very spontaneous and doesn't stop easily . For example if you have completed a task or work given to you , you'll find another one soon. You always try to keep yourself busy as if you're scared of your own mind. They'll see you as someone who's very popular or well known. Very attractive and charming too. They'll love the way you deal with people like not being rude but still proving your point? Something like that. They'll love your voice too. You might have a low pitched soothing voice. They'll think that you are their destiny. The person they have been waiting for. They'll see you as someone who is goal oriented. It might be a love at first sight for them.  You could even teach them a different language or your mother tongue. You might have a different cultural background. They'll see you as someone who has a lot of money, is very abundant and someone who comes from a rich and wealthy background. But also someone who needs to find balance in their life. Sometimes you might take up two works at a time or be involved in two different tasks, so that can be overwhelming for you. Also someone who goes from transformation or you will be going through a transformation when you meet them. Someone of power. White rabbits could be important here or they could give off the vibe of a bunny. Also white animals are very important here

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