#i like stories where you have to drag through mud for people to respect you

[unreadpoppy]

I think the biggest reason I struggled to connect with the Inquisitor as a character is because of the 'chosen one' trope

[fenicenera83]

I am so fed up and disgusted with the current chronicle fandom. What used to be a place of exchange of opinions, love of the material written by the author and her characters, respect and refuge even for all those who felt " different" or so they were called by other people, because we had different passions, and interests, maybe even too big for the kids we were, is now a pool of shit. There is no more understanding and respect for the story or the characters, there is instead negativity, toxicity, and contempt and total, personal superimposition on the characters, their feelings, their stories, lies disguised by the famous word ' interpretation', ship warfare, attacks towards other fans, bullying, victimhood, lack of accepting and understanding a historical context, certain topics, such as sexual fantasies, or the view on religion and the relationship with God.

Anne's books are not for everyone, the themes they deal with are not for everyone, and I am not talking about the romance between a millennial vampire who has no sexual appetites and a 15-year-old mortal boy in the late 1400s, but about the worldview, the changing nature of humankind, poetry and literature, history, the desperate need to understand the human soul, about monsters that sometimes seem more human than human beings. Of religion, of the relationship with God, of the mistakes that curiosity, pain, or too good a heart can lead one to make.Of the pain and acceptance of life and the path it takes us down, of the wonder there is in the world and in art. The deep search for meaning.

I have seen and read so much crap in the current fandom that my eyes have fallen out. I've seen my all-time favorite character dragged through the mud, linked to things he never did or said, I've seen him misled and defaced into something he is not and never was. I have seen people convince themselves and lead others toward their own insanity made up of completely made-up things and lies. And continue this circle of hatred and negativity of contempt and stupidity. Twitter, tiktok, YouTube, Tumblr, are full of absurd and flimsy 'interpretations' of something that is not, even, there in the Canon of books. No wonder that every time I ask, bring me the pages of the books, where this thing is written, the person on duty disappears, or when you mention Zenobia, or Gregory or Eudoxia, these people disappear. And yes I took the liberty of an outburst, because it is somewhat depressing to see how things are. At least I, as a deep and indefatigable lover of Marius, can say that my satisfaction I have it and no one can take it away from me, because it is in the Canon of the last book, Marius is happy, serene, he is healing, he is playing an important role, he is living in the palace among his peers and he is no longer alone, and most importantly he is finally reunited with Armand, they are together again and they are caring for each other by giving their hearts to each other again, like in Venice. Goodbye antis & haters 👋

[mikelogan]

ttpd thoughts

for the record, i'm not trying to be like. purposely hateful or anything, i'm just so deeply disappointed with her. this last year has been a mess and she's repeatedly acted in ways that, at the very least, rub me in the wrong way and at their worst have disgusted me and made me lose so much respect for/faith in her. miss americana has become a piece of performance art rather than any sort of meaningful activism.

she made a very public display of dating/hooking up with a bigot and basically said "fuck you, i do what i want" in response to valid criticism and then tried to smooth it over by working with one of the women he'd called slurs. almost every time she spoke this year, whether in an interview or through tree, she reinforced my worry that she views herself as untouchable and that any sort of negativity or criticism directed toward her should be discounted because she's an "underdog" and a woman, despite the fact that there are very real issues with her words and actions. and don't get me started on everything with football guy and his trump-loving ass.

she is absolutely allowed to do, say, date, fuck, etc. anyone and anything she wants. she can write songs about all of it. she can do damage control and pr and control the narrative however she chooses. she can run smear campaigns and drag names through the mud while maintaining she's the perpetual victim when she's arguably the one with the most power in any given situation. i can appreciate that fame presents a set of challenges that i will never experience or fully comprehend.

but i'm also allowed to have my opinions on it, especially when so much of it is so heavily publicized. there is so much we will never know and there is also so much we do know that we never should have. pretty much since eras was announced, she's become so deeply oversaturated and it went from being cool to see so much hype and getting a new album and new re-recordings to feeling like everything is about money and breaking records. it's become a machine, a content factory, and so many decisions feel rushed, incomplete, and incongruent. it doesn't feel like there's been real thought about the material itself and instead it's become about aesthetics and sensationalism.

i think that's why i'm so frustrated right now and it's highly likely that these albums will grow on me or at least some of the songs. i've been listening to the 12 songs i liked on repeat since i finished my initial run through each album and i already like them even more. but i wish that it could truly just be about the music for me. that's what's always been most meaningful to me about taylor is her lyricism and the stories she tells through her songs. but knowing everything i know and having seen everything i've seen over the past year, it's tainted my perception of the albums and the songs on them.

i think that taylor has a lot of growing to do as a person. i've heard people say that sometimes celebrities are frozen at the age they became famous and i think that really shows in taylor's case. the irony of a song being titled "so high school" was certainly not lost on me. a lot of her phrasing feels very juvenile, just as her treatment of joe and everything surrounding the end of their relationship has been. i never really had feelings about him one way or another, and as i mentioned above, there's a lot we'll never know about what happened between them. but she's been pushing her victim narrative so hard and the only thing i've seen from joe is his support of palestine. actions speak a lot louder than words. it changed so drastically from the initial news of their breakup being amicable to turning him into yet another villain. i have no doubt in my mind that taylor has been treated very poorly by a lot of the men in her life, and joe is likely not an exception. but i'm to the point where i have to take everything she says with a heaping tablespoon of salt.

at the end of the day, taylor's music is her own and i understand why she's said that she wants her work to be about the music and not about the men. i can see how it would feel invalidating to have her songs picked apart and attributed to the men they're written about. and i'm not even trying to do that here. but i can't recall a time when she's been so public about her relationships? in the past, it's felt a lot more like speculation, but jesus, between ratty and tk this past year, we've just been inundated with so much that unless i was an extremely casual fan that managed to escape her face on every news show, billboard, and social media website, i can't fathom not knowing what she's singing about on these albums. she can't have it both ways.

i still have all the music that came before ttpd, and like i said, with subsequent listens, ttpd will probably grow on me a bit, but idk man, i'm over it. and i think it's important to be willing and able to criticize or at the very least analyze your favorite media, whether it's music or tv or film or literature or whatever else. your favorite thing probably sucks in one way or another and pretending it doesn't doesn't make you a better person than someone who acknowledges it. these are complex, extremely nuanced things i take issue with and when it comes down to it, i will never know taylor personally and be able to talk to her about these things and get her point of view and her thoughts. that leaves me to say my piece, which is what this post is.

as a recovering swiftie, i'm just so very tired.

[maul-of-shame]

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that I also saw people hating the thought of Elrondriel, but they were quick to pair Galadriel with Adar. Their logic? Elrond is her friend, ergo it would be cliché to make him fall in love with Galadriel, because friendship should stay as friendship, and nothing else. Okay??? But it's perfectly fine and better to ship her with her enemy, again? Sauron, yes, Adar, yes, but not Elrond? What gives?

(I'm not against these ships btw, just calling out the double standard.)

Is there actually something wrong with a deep friendship that slowly and gently turns into something more? No, there isn't anything wrong with that, and no, Galadriel and Elrond are not acting like brother and sister. There's a stark difference between the Galadriel/Finrod moments and the Galadriel/Elrond scenes.

[TW: Rant again cause I'm on a roll and on fire X'DDD]

I’m so very glad you brought this up because I’ve been seeing this exact double standard floating around too, and I just cannot with it.

Look, I’m not against Adar/Galadriel (I do enjoy Adariel, haven't interracted with it yet but I can see the appeal) or any ship—go ahead, ship whatever you want!

But this logic? It’s the epitome of “I like this, but not that, and here’s a completely arbitrary reason why.”

So, let me get this straight: the moment you make Elrond and Galadriel’s friendship into something more, it’s suddenly cliché, right? Because friendship should stay friendship?

But it’s totally fine for Galadriel to get into bed with a literal ancient evil, Sauron himself or any other Dark Lord?

The irony is just delicious.

You can ship her with the very embodiment of darkness and corruption, but if Elrond, who’s always been a close and trusted ally to Galadriel, even looks at her with something other than a platonic gaze, suddenly it’s all “cliché,” “too much,” “not original.” It’s almost like they’re pretending not to see the clear bond between Galadriel and Elrond—one of mutual respect, understanding, shared history, and deep care for each other’s well-being.

That, to me, is exactly what a slow-burn, deep love is built on.

Repeat it with me people: There’s nothing wrong with friendship turning into something more when it's built on real, solid emotional connection. It’s organic, it’s human, and honestly, it’s beautiful. There’s depth in that kind of love.

But then the moment you try to pair Galadriel with Elrond in this context, it’s somehow wrong or “too easy”? It’s hilarious.

Sure, throw her into an emotionally abusive, manipulative situation with Sauron or any dark lord because they’re enemies and the tension of that makes things "interesting".

[ Side note: If you have to resort to emotionally abusive, manipulative situations to make your character’s journey "interesting" or "complex," then maybe the problem isn’t with the character, but with the way you’re writing them.

Like, seriously, there are so many other ways to create depth and tension in a story without dragging a character through the mud and having them suffer for no reason other than to generate conflict. This isn’t 101 on how to build an interesting plotline—it's just lazy writing with a side of drama for the sake of drama. I mean, sure, you can throw a character into situations where they have to face tough choices or grow through adversity, but that doesn't mean you need to abuse them emotionally, manipulate their trauma, or throw them in the path of dark lords and villains "just to create tension".

That’s a shortcut, not depth.

There’s a difference between character growth through adversity and the kind of plot that thrives on pain and suffering for the sake of shock value.]

But when it comes to Elrond, a guy who’s clearly been there for her, supporting her—genuinely supporting her from the start—it’s somehow "too convenient"?

Why? Because it’s "friendship", and “we don’t want that to ruin the purity of their bond.” As if Galadriel herself wouldn’t be the first to want the peace and comfort that someone like Elrond could give her, after everything she’s been through.

To me, it's not about them suddenly becoming these romantic figures in one swoop; it’s about the rich layers that develop naturally between them. Their relationship is built on history, respect, and even some shared grief. Galadriel isn't just falling for anyone with a pretty face—she’s looking at someone who’s been her rock, who understands the weight she carries, who’s seen the darkness within her, and who never once turned away.

That’s real intimacy, not forced or contrived.

It’s the slow warmth that grows over time from knowing someone deeply. Why is that so hard to believe?

And let’s get one thing straight—this whole “they’re like brother and sister” comparison? Nope. I’m sorry, but no.

There’s a huge difference between the deep connection Galadriel has with Finrod and the one she shares with Elrond. Finrod’s relationship with Galadriel is one of family, and while it’s incredibly tender, it’s not the same kind of connection that Elrond and Galadriel share. Their dynamic is a different kind of love—one that isn’t defined by familial bonds but by friendship, mutual respect, and eventually, yes, romantic potential.

People will sit there all day saying, “Elrond is like a brother to Galadriel,” but then, when Sauron LITERALLY takes the form of her DEAD BROTHER, trying to manipulate her and pull her to the dark side (again, literally using her brother's face to corrupt her), somehow that doesn’t even raise an eyebrow?

I mean, we’re supposed to believe that it’s fine for Sauron to impersonate Finrod’s image, playing on Galadriel’s grief and vulnerabilities, yet Elrond is “like a brother”?

A brother???!!!!!

Galadriel's actual brother’s face was hijacked by the dark lord, and she didn’t fall into the abyss of despair, but Elrond sharing an emotional, deep connection with her over centuries is “too much” for some people? Make it make sense.

It’s the perfect example of how people are willing to turn a blind eye to the most manipulative, abusive moments in the story when it involves characters they don’t want to see paired together. But when it comes to Galadriel and Elrond? Suddenly, they’re “siblings,” as if it’s some sort of forbidden, untouchable relationship that would “ruin” everything about her. But Sauron literally impersonating her brother to emotionally manipulate her and "be in love with her"? Sure, no problem, no issues there.

It’s like they’re treating Galadriel’s trauma and grief as a plot device for Sauron’s evil schemes, but when Elrond—someone who truly cares for her and has always been by her side—is involved, suddenly it’s too close, too uncomfortable, and “off-limits.” Talk about double standards here again, where emotional manipulation by the villain is fine and dandy, but a slow-burn, actual partnership rooted in respect and shared history is somehow crossing a line.

It’s truly mind-boggling.

You can’t claim one thing and then completely ignore the depths of manipulation and trauma inflicted upon Galadriel when it’s convenient.

That’s where we draw the line: when the logic is selective and clearly biased. If we're going to look at Galadriel’s relationships and her emotional depth, let’s actually consider the nuance, the growth, and the potential for her to be loved and cherished, not just used or placed into situations where her suffering is the point.

To me, Elrond and Galadriel’s connection is one of mutual respect and understanding, not some weird brother/sister complex. And if Sauron can masquerade as Finrod and nobody bats an eye? Then there's absolutely no reason for people to act like Elrond’s connection with Galadriel is some taboo thing. Let her have love, let her be cared for.

Let’s stop pretending that Elrond’s feelings are any less valid than Sauron’s manipulations.

[svechnikovvv]

birthday boys

andrei svechnikov x fem!reader , brady skjei x platonic!fem!reader

a/n: the two birthday boys needed an insta edit 🙏

masterlist: here

y/n.insta

liked by andrei_svechnikov37 and others

y/n.insta svech, drei, dimples, my love, my bestfriend, my lover all in one. i wish you nothing but the happiest of birthdays today 🫶🏻 я тебя люблю ❤️

see translation: i love you

(👤: andrei_svechnikov37)

view comments

andrei_svechnikov37 i love you more and thank you ❤️

y/n.insta only the best for my personal rasputin

andrei_svechnikov37 😐

sebastianaho the man, the myth, the legend

y/n.insta he’s very much so not a myth, but the energy is appreciated seb!

user1 y/n giving us the andrei content we need 😫

user2 the second picture??? LETHAL

user3 andrei and y/n’s relationship is my favorite

bradyskjei where’s MY birthday post?

y/n.insta sitting in the drafts collecting dust 🥱

bradyskjei friendship -> gone

y/n.insta you can’t break the best friend contract or i’ll slash your tires ❤️

bradyskjei i can easily report your car for a hit and run

y/n.insta i’ll have you know the government loves me

bradyskjei and i’ll have you know i have bribery money

yourbestie so he’s your best friend now? 🤨

y/n.insta you’re my wife, i think this is fair

yourbestie raleigh women are outrageous 🙄

canes happy birthday svechy! ❤️🖤

liked by y/n.insta

pyotr_kochetkov с днем ​​рождения, брат! ❤️

see translation: happy birthday brother

liked by y/n.insta

canes and andrei_svechnikov37 added this post to their stories!

y/n.insta

liked by bradyskjei and others

y/n.insta happy birthday brady bunch. so glad you’re on the canes now, because you look hideous in blue 🥱 anyways, don’t party too hard because the local geriatrics center doesn’t accept walk-ins ❤️

(👤: bradyskjei)

view comments

bradyskjei respect your elders

y/n.insta you’re not helping your case whatsoever

bradyskjei and fyi: i looked AMAZING in blue

y/n.insta crickets.

bradyskjei thank you anyways 🙄❤️

y/n.insta next year you’ll be dust! 😁

andrei_svechnikov37 for his next birthday, let’s put him in a home

y/n.insta this is why two brains are better than one

bradyskjei i hate you twos relationship.

user4 i agree, blue is not his color

liked by y/n.insta

user5 i love brady and y/n’s friendship

user6 andrei & y/n ganging up on brady >>>

sebastianaho happy birthday skjei!

bradyskjei thank you fishy! at least someone likes me

y/n.insta and he’s the only one, so get used to it bradyskjei

pyotr_kochetkov С днем ​​рождения старик

see translation: happy birthday old man

liked by y/n.insta

canes happy birthday skjei! ❤️🖤

yourbestie i think he broke my screen

bradyskjei i don’t like you ☺️

canes & bradyskjei added this post to their stories!

y/n.insta

liked by andrei_svechnikov37 , bradyskjei and others

y/n.insta the two birthday boys (on slide 1: see the most amazing boyfriend and man to ever roam the earth & on slide 2: see a try hard man who is growing greys in his twenties and is posing with his fish like every guy i went to middle school with) happy birthday you two! ❤️🖤

(👤: andrei_svechnikov37 , bradyskjei)

view comments

user7 y/n is dragging brady through the mud today 💀

user8 he does look like a middle school boy

liked by y/n.insta

andrei_svechnikov37 you’ve made today one of the best birthdays ever 😘

y/n.insta anything for my drei 🫶🏻

bradyskjei do you want me to cry on my birthday?

y/n.insta make sure you send me a crying picture

bradyskjei this is why only a handful of people like you

y/n.insta i like to think that i’m just an acquired taste

bradyskjei good thing you don’t get paid for thinking

sebastianaho the two 🐐

y/n.insta i think i accidentally posted two pictures of andrei then

user9 just be glad brady didn’t have a pair of pit vipers on

y/n.insta you’re so right

canes it doesn’t get any better than these two 🔥

pyotr_kochetkov 🥳

y/n.insta a man of many words. i knew you were worth keeping

yourbestie tag yourself: i’m the fish

y/n.insta you poor fish

tags: @liquidflyer 🫶🏻

[3416]

I really love equally 16-34-88.

It’s interesting the interchanging of the attitude of the fans and media towards William and Mitch.

For years, William was criticized over and over again. His relaxed and laid back attitude. His game. And his contract year back in 2018, he was in those trenches. And anyone who said anything positive about him was called crazy. And also, Don Cherry and his low key like discriminatory remarks due to the fact that he was Swedish and not the tough goon kind of playing style. He was also kind of the « guinea pig » (always changing line mates, and lines—and last year we saw that too, he’s always moving and they always throw new stuff) and he was , out of the core, the punching bag.

Now, Mitchy has always been criticized because of the toxic hyper masculine mindset of many hockey fans: he’s boyish and not buff and tough and all that jazz. But, he never got the hate and disrespect that he is getting at the end of last season and right now. He was however still well liked and respected and was often associated to Auston and scene in a more favorable light. He was second to Auston in the « it » boy factor. If this NHL documentary was made 2-3 years ago, Mitch would have been considered.

If you would have told that the Toronto fans and media would be all over William two seasons ago, I would have laughed. Like never would I have thought that I would see the day where people would actually give him credit and actually respect him and see the great things he adds. I love seeing that , but at what cost? For Mitch to become the punching bag of the team?

Fans are now saying how amazing Willy is and now figuring out that he is a good player and cool. But those same fans, a couple years ago were dragging him through the mud saying how useless he was and how he needed to get traded. And they liked Mitch. And they respected him. But now, you’ve « always hated Mitch Marner », « He should be traded ».

And I fear that it will always be this: once Mitch will be in the public’s good graces, something with William will happen and back to Mitch. It’s always been like this and will always stay this way. I don’t know why, I guess that’s the dynamic the city chose.

Even when it came to the core’s contracts: Willy and Mitchy always get this EXTRA je ne sais quoi. Like this extra negative energy and they can never satisfy anyone. They are greedy weaklings or whatever.

Also, I was thinking about Auston captaincy and it reminded me about how he was heavily considered in 2019 but the whole allegations and the story about him harassing this woman when he was drunk ruined that chance. And, people did criticize him and he got scrutinized. But, it kind of, I think, it fizzled away pretty quickly within the Toronto scene considering how heavy that story was. It doesn’t haunt him.

Now, if it was Mitch or William, people would bring it up and it would tarnish them way more. They could not escape it.

Sorry for the long ass rant, it’s just so funny and frustrating: if one gains recognition, the other one has to go down.

gonna start out by saying i don't think mitch/auston/other ppl weren't asked about the doc. i think they're way more private esp in a time that was gearing up for the playoffs, lol. and i think anyone with a brain right now knows mitch is still the second best player on the leafs. everyone just gets high off point totals alone from the prior seasons.. like i seriously saw ppl claiming matthew tkachuk would be drafted higher than auston after the 22-23 season, lolll.

i agree there's a divide about them in the coverage and i have a lot of thoughts of my own about this too. i'm not a longterm leafs fan beyond the past couple of years so i can't speak to how willy or mitch were treated before 2022 beyond old headlines/stuff i've seen but not lived through, but i've definitely been here for the shift about mitch lately and well...

i think some of it is by virtue of them playing the same position. everyone 'has an issue' with the core 4 (ive never understood who the fuck the core 4 even refers to.. sometimes its about the forwards, sometimes its about the leadership group flkdjsklf... whatever fits the current narrative ig) being all forwards and taking up the cap bc that's not 'proven', but it's such a bullshit excuse. i think if you look at their contract situations of the past, willy did a lot of things mitch is getting shit for now, lol. he did hold out into the season for money while mitch gets lambasted for using that as a negotiation tactic (which again.. i wasnt around for those negotiations and i get it was ugly to ... leak or use public perception or whatever but) on those first contracts. willy's father was also involved in his holding out in the most recent negotiations but that's not smth i see thrown around at him despite every comment under every post about mitch including paul's name without him so much as uttering the word contract, lol. it's frustrating to me to see the double standards at this point. i understand longtime fans have lived through shit about willy, but i have a hard time imagining the vitriol levels of right now being topped. it's just every single day about every single thing compounded by the fact that leafs fans have even less hope than they used to bc of how many years in a row they've lost.

i admittedly don't love them equally at all, and if anything, the fanfare about willy the past year has made me like him less. it's not really his fault but i do think he's slightly overpaid now (and watching ppl now claim mitch has to take willys deal or less is hilarious) and overhyped for what he actually brings. his playoff stats are being overrated too. since it all comes at a cost to mitch in the media, it's been way worse to watch for me and unavoidable that i come away feeling negative about him, lol.

i'd be interested to see if the tides ever do turn back toward willy now that he's bulked up, grown facial hair, proven he can score with an up-to-this-point useless clutchness. i doubt they will, but i have a hard time envisioning what's gonna happen after mitch signs an extension and who will become the scapegoat w players locked up for more years. the constant hate has to get exhausting at some point, right? like jflkjdsklf... but not with leaf fans so who knows what will happen. i can't really say what would have happened if mitch or willy were ever involved in scandal like that, but i think if it happened right now, ppl would be ready to forgive willy for anything and sentence mitch to death over nothing so. some people were blaming him for his own carjacking when it happened like.. lol. i can't see into the future but all i know is i'm VERY fed up with the way coverage and reaction is right now. and i don't even think the media is an accurate depiction of how a lot of fans feel about any of it, but if it's hammered home enough... idk.

[chikoyama]

Shipping Info | Answer the following for your muses so people know how shipping works on your blog

What is your OTP for your character(s)?

Man, I don’t know. If Chiyori can get someone who cares as much about her as she cares about them, then I’m good. If she’s in a relationship where she’s wanted rather than needed, then that's absolute gold for me. ✨

Even in a soulmate au I made her soulmateless specifically for that purpose. Also, because I wanted Chiyori to discover that no one is more perfect for her than herself, but I'm not sure if she's insightful enough to realize that, lmao. Aaah, and the pain too. I also decided for her to be soulmateless because I don’t understand the concept of soulmates, lmfao. (Not anymore at least).

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

To me personally, as long as both parties are in similar stages of physical matureness I won’t care too much, I think? It's fiction after all. Like, someone at the age of 50 with someone at the age 18, I don’t mind too much, because they’re both likely to be past puberty. Both would be in their fully-developed adult bodies. (These talks always remind me of Leonardo DiCaprio’s relationships, lmfao).

However, someone above age 16 with someone at the age of 10 is when I feel things would get kind of weird? Because it’s extremely likely that the 10-year-old hasn’t even hit puberty yet. Don’t bash me for it, but I’d love to witness a well-written dynamic like that. One would have to have the balls to publish something like that, and be a genius too for crafting a dynamic like that that works. Honestly, I think it could make sense in more of a coming-of-age story! Anything else would be creepy, but maybe I’m just too close-minded to be able to imagine otherwise.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they are considered NSFT?

When specific private body parts are mentioned.

Are you selective when shipping?

Uh, yeah.

Who are other characters you ship your character with?

I don't think it's so much if I personally ship it, more than it is about if Chiyori likes the other character. So far, she likes Lee's Suguru (@cvrseduser) (whilst still teenagers, but it's not reciprocated), and Val's Yuuta (@2xcursekissed).

Does one have to ask to ship with you?

Nah, you do you, babe. If it means something to you, don’t let me take that away from you. Be fierce, be mad, be unapologetic. If anything, I’d love to hear why it speaks to you personally!

Are you ship-obsessed or ship more-or-less?

So, the thing is I want to be ship-obsessed, but I’m not, which is sad for meeeee. I genuinely want to experience being in that sort of high, lmfao. Though, that's my problem to deal with, but maybe I just have to find the right partner(s). 🤔

Idk what ship more-or-less means?

What is your favourite ship in your current fandom?

Eeeeh… *thinks hard* Idk… I think every ship is cute per se. It sounds harsh, but these ships don’t mean anything to me personally, because I don't write canon characters, so it’s hard for me to be truly biased. Though, if I wrote cc x cc, maybe I'd fall as deeply into these rabbit holes as everyone else, lmao.

My philosophy on these matters are: As long as it makes you happy, and you let me do me, everything is good!

Finally, how does one ship with you?

Uh, just ask me to ship, I think? — Easier said than done, right? Be engaged, share your thoughts and ideas, send things that remind you of them. Of course, there needs to be a similar level of respect and admiration from both parties. Though, generally speaking I'm very cooperative and reciprocative.

The amount of times I've put more effort into projects (not just in terms of writing) than my partners is depressing. So, I've come to the conclusion that my energy is better spent elsewhere unless someone shows proper enthusiasm about it. I respect myself way too much to put myself through that. I refuse to be dragging a dead body through the mud.

Tagged by: @vartouhix (thanks for the tag, babe! 💕)

Tagging: @ak4rin, @opalchoi, @gyofukuki, @trelonkan, @nvictive

[impetuous-impulse]

Tagged by @cadmusfly.

Last Song: Napoleonically speaking, I read the last song I listened to (thanks to Victor Hugo). Le roi d'Yvetot is by Jean-Pierre de Béranger (1780-1857), a popular chansonnier. He was under Lucien Bonaparte's patronage for a bit. This song satirises Napoleon, and apparently Napoleon heard it one day and was like "haha funny". I found a record of it below.

There's also this recent version, which is clearer and more dynamic.

William Makepeace Thackeray made a translation of it, as seen here. Someone also posted the French text in the comments of the first song, so you can machine translate to get the literal meanings.

More generally, I've been on a nostalgia trip listening to older songs. Time-Forgotten One (時忘人) strikes me as apt for this blog, because the lyrics explore grief and survivor's guilt in a post-war context (with a twist at the end). Of his comrades, the singer muses:

Even though the long-drawn-out war has ended / where have they gone / have they gone to a land where no grass grows / and continued the fight there？/ I continue to wait for them

I remember fighting with comrade whom I could entrust my back to / Now I am the only one left on this street, where have the familiar faces gone？

Translations adapted from here (if you want to experience the story in its glory). The creator hinayukki also posted a remake recently.

Currently Watching: Two reality TV shows, which I need to catch up on.

Three ships: Any kind of ship, right? Not my favourite or anything? Okay. I define shipping by two people interacting with and reacting to each other intensely, whatever that may mean. The following are some I would actively promote.

Ney/Soult: From comrades and work friends to "bitter rivals" (and scholars continue their feud). I love a good friends to rivals/enemies to something else, and their historical relationship gives me so much material to work with. You can create something very historically-compliant and trace various narratives depending on what you focus on. Desaix/Saint-Cyr: Two giants who respected each other equally and were intimate friends (to the point of using "tu" with each other). Hot/cold foils (commented on contemporaries and later writers). There is also some tragedy in outliving one of your closest friends (of which you have so few), ascending to a higher rank than he did in life, while disliking the institution who bestowed the accolades upon you. Bernadotte/Brahe: This is just here for how codependent they were. Bedside counselling deep into the night? Brahe having a room of Bernadotte statues? Matching rings with braided hair? So much potential.

Honourable shout-out to Jourdan/Kléber as a thought experiment of the ephemeral variety (I think my bias for the Rhine armies is showing). I would also like to mention [REDACTED] and [REDACTED], but I suspect it would get me dragged through the mud by fans of Ney (as he is represented in popular tradition), haha.

Favourite Colour: Gold and green, currently.

Currently consuming: The last food I had was vegetable broth.

First ship: In the Napoleonic fandom, it would be NapJuno (because of the plausibility).

Relationship status: Complicated

Last Movie: The Holdovers (2023). A good alternate Christmas Hallmark movie.

Currently working on: 1) The Ney and Soult Get-Along T-Shirt AU, where Ney escapes arrest with Soult's help post-Waterloo. Here's a WIP of it choked with purple prose to prove it isn't dead:

2) A Lannes WIP. 3) A non-Napoleonic fic that I desperately need to finish so I can be more active on here again.

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do it—go ahead.

[robbickent]

aaron   taylor-johnson.     he/him.     cis man.      ›      spotted   at   the   met   steps   ,   robert   ‘robbie’   kent   ,   most   likely   listening   to   should   i   stay   or   should   i   go   by   the   clash   with   their   airpods   pro   .   the   twenty   eight   year   old   gained   quite   a   reputation   ,   known   to   be   -impulsive   yet   +passionate   to   anyone   who   knows   them   .   you'll   easily   spot   them   when   you   hear   about   black   eye   and   busted   lips,   never   reading   or   replying   to   texts,   broken   bottles   in   the   middle   of   the   room   ,   followed   by   musk   by   lorenzo   villoresi   .   latest   nepoupdates   article   talks   about   divorce   lawyers   have   robbie   kent   to   thank!   “not   my   problem”:   robbie   is   tired   of   talking   about   married   people’s   problems,   following   the   third   couple   in   hollywood   to   split   after   oscar-winning   actress   spotted   on   his   yacht   in   venice   ,   but   i   guess   any   reputation   is   good   reputation   .   

basics.

full name: robert kent. nicknames: robbie. age: twenty-eight. date of birth: march 23rd. astrology: aries. gender: cis man. pronouns: he / him. orientation: biromantic , bisexual. birthplace: manhattan, nyc. occupation: actor, boxer. languages: english. siblings: andrew (allinmymincl), brother #2.

background.

andrew's oldest brother

your typical childhood actor story

as the oldest, he took the brunt of it from their mom, shielding his brothers as much as he can

mostly fell in line growing up, did his job, brought the family the kind of fame his mom wanted

hollywood heartthrob! showered in love and attention

until he had enough. then followed: arrests, scandals, depositions

every move had been documented and criticised since he was a kid, leaving him with lots and lots of issues

he has made mistakes -- lots of them! and the whole world starts turning on him

finally emancipates from his parents, they blacklist him from hollywood, dropped from all projects and impossible to get cast in anything

falls out with his brothers, breaks off all contact - sad

went on more benders, drinking and drugs, met someone who got him into boxing and he did that for a few years

beat jake paul and logan paul and that’s all that matters, he doesn’t think of it as an accomplishment tho

makes a comeback via an indie movie and it blows up! does an interview where he talks about abuse from his parents

now he's booked and busy, despite the bad press that still follows, but he continues to drag his reputation through the mud

personality.

just an asshole with lots of issues

in his ariana grande era (breaking up marriages)

brutally honest

jokes that he's made it past 27

half the internet loves him, half hate him

he is the type to sleep with his friend's partner but also he is a good friend ??? i can't explain it

has established himself as a respectable actor, chooses projects wisely

lots of indie projects, big name directors, no franchises and superhero movies, famous for his villain roles

honestly his pr team needs a raise, doesn't care about his rep, will say or do anything without hiding anything

it's all a bit of bravado, puts on a show, *gladiator vc* are you not entertained?!

wanted plots.

a ryan gosling x rachel mcadams type deal: costars who hated working with each other has insane chemistry on screen, supposed to be dating each other for publicity reasons but robbie isn't holding up his end of the deal

or costars who hated working with each other, just been cast to work together again

ex friends -- could be something to do with when he got blacklisted from hollywood?

exes etc. just anything w conflict pls

friends of andrew's he can bully ? or befriend ? enemies he can befriend ?

plus all the other general ones: roommates, neighbours, friends, etc. etc.

[btranmuses]

Restore

a Han Yu short after the events of Nights of Payne Town

The worst is over. The city is safe. Before he can lie down and rest, Han has one last thing to clean up.

This story features characters created by other players in the City of Mist game I played in, and they belong to their respective creators.

I.

The trees were thick, so thick Han didn't think an arm's reach could hug one. They were tall, so tall they punctured the night sky, the jagged fingers of their canopy holding back the light of the dimming twin moons. Or were they suns? Whatever they were, their light was like lanterns swaying to careless winds, shadows jerking through the branches when the half-formed monster in their celestial bosom thrashed and turned like a nightmare was disturbing its slumber.

Viscera half human, half alien strewed about the trees, lodged in branches, pierced by jagged rocks, and squashed tall grass, the blood seeping from them wetting the soil into slippery mud everywhere.

Han stepped on a liver, which exploded into a squelching mess. Lance made a disgusted noise behind him.

"Sorry," he said, keeping his eyes on the moons. They must be where the heart was; the rivers of mud and blood flowed to where they hung. It made sense: blood comes back to the heart. "To be honest, I was expecting the world of my soul to be a festering sewer maze, not all of this wilderness."

"It's alright," Lance said behind him, wiping some of the mud from his face, looking like he wanted to throw up, which he did a few times already. "It could have been, you know. Sewers. But looks like Abhoth hasn't won. It's trying to, though." He looked at the moon womb in the sky, whose slumber seemed to have calmed.

"Yeah, looks like it knows what we're here for," Han said, picking up his pace. "Come on, the quicker this is done the faster you can take a shower."

"Why not the Panacea, though?" Lance said. "The Grail could have granted anything, or Sydney had willed so for all of us. Kinda uncharacteristic of him if you ask me."

"I don't think so. He's loud and explosive, abrasive even, but he has a select few on his list of people he cares about."

"Are you saying he cares for me?"

Han looked at him. "I think it was a split second decision, and in that moment he chose the team as a whole over individual conflict."

"He still hates my guts is what you're saying."

"Yeah."

Lance chuckled. "You're not answering the question, as always."

"What can I say? I work the black market. But… " Han snapped a dry tree branch before him in half, handed one to Lance, and started dislodging what looked like a rotten deer torso blocking their path.

Lance tapped his shoulder and waved this hand back, gesturing for him to step back. With a snap of his fingers, the smug fucker incinerated the carcass into fine ash.

"Show off," Han muttered, but started walking again. They must be on the right path: the blood rivers were running thicker and wider now. He could hear the body parts making mushing sounds in their currents, jostling, dragging against riverbeds of forest mulch.

Han spoke after a while. "Yes, I wanted the Panacea. Or… I did. Riah got Bumpy back from the gods themselves, and since Marc agreed to withdraw from the city, I just… don't feel the drive for it anymore.

"Eradication of disease itself is a… change on a cosmic scale. It's a decision I don't believe should be in my hands, or in anyone's hands. It will drastically alter the landscape of the world, setting off so many chain reactions, and… I think we've subjected the world through enough of that already.

"Working with you lot through the past year, no, working as the Sewer Doctor in the last decade made me realise I'm not built for this much responsibility. I'm teetering on the edge enough as it is. I will break soon if I don't stop, and that would be a mercy I don't deserve, because I won't be around to even witness the consequence of my action, let alone suffer it.

"With Marc gone and the hospital back in the City's hands, I think… I can do a hospital. I'm tired of burning like firework, and if there's one thing this past year has taught me, it's that I don't have to. I can be a candle. I can do a lifetime of that, really. It would be nice."

II.

They broke into a clearing, no, a wasteland of gore. Here out of the thicket of the forest, they could see the moons clearly, inside a wound in the sky itself. They looked like a pair of globular, luminescent cancerous cells, bleeding a trickling waterfall of gelled blood from the starless heavens, a thick column of crimson ooze that had overflown into a lake so vast, but not endless: Han could see trees and mountains on the horizon. The half-formed god inside the moons writhed again, thrashing.

Han tried a hand out before him, and indeed bones and organs rose from the mud and blood. Rats, vermin, human heads and ribcages formed and broke apart by the second, apparitions of flesh squirming before his very eyes.

"This is it," Han said to Lance, looking at where the gigantic bloodfall from the sky pooled onto the earth. "This is the heart of it all."

"Are you ready?" Lance asked, frowning. "You don't have to do this."

He shook his head. "No. I'm not ready, and I don't have to do this. But I want to. Let's get this done and over with."

He parted the mud into a thin path, revealing the dry grass beneath as he paced to the end of the bloodfall.

Where he stood drenched in the viscera and blood.

No, not him, but a thing that looked like him, planted knees deep in a mound of writhing flesh. It had on a pristine doctor's coat, despite the gore it was being showered in. Those scalpel-fingered hands, though, were as bloody as the lake of abominations they were in. Shimmering silver chains weighed down its wrists, and its eyes burned a hateful yellow, which locked on Han as soon as he could see it.

"You," its mouth opened, but the bloodfall shook as the voice rang from around them, the malformed god above jerking its head against the moons that encased it, rippling the night sky. "You are just as wretched as they all are. Spineless. Coward."

"Maybe," he said, his heart still. "But that's alright. No one has to be brave all the time."

"Banishing me will change nothing, you know that right, doctor? Blood was on your hands. Blood will always be on your hands."

"It was. It will. And I would love to deal with that on my own terms, free of your interference, please."

"And now you've come to kill. Kill me. Planned. Premeditated. Is that what doctors do?"

He held a breath, for so long, but when it broke so did a dam. Pain and despair flooded his head, but he could see under their dampening weight, if barely, a glimpse, a promise of release.

A hand touched his shoulder. Lance said, "it won't be killed. It's not how this works. The Myth will be sent back beyond the Mist, that's all."

He touched the back of Lance's hand, nodding, but he did not take his eyes away from this bleeding mirage of himself before him. "Even if this is murder, may it be the last I will ever do."

He got from his own coat a scalpel.

The thing struggled against the shackles, and the moons shook, the bloodfall turning heavy, pouring. Monstrosities rose from the mud, a howling circle closing in around them.

"Lance, please turn away. This is for my conscience only."

As Lance held back the monsters that closed in, there were screams. Human screams, before Han, and sounding just like him, begging, desperate, but Han did not stop. Then they came from the night above, wild and guttural, booming like wet thunder, a bestial swansong that went on and on and just would not stop.

Then in a flash of brilliance, the bloodfall exploded. The night itself broke apart as if blown away, and dawn broke.

In place of false moons were the sun, the actual sun, not the fucking disgusting sky fetus but a sun that shone bright and hot and it was raining, raining, raining. It was pouring not blood, oh god it was not blood, just water, really just water. It tasted so clean and fresh, and as far as his eyes could see Han saw none of the mud on the trees and they were fucking green and clear rivers were forming around him and he could hear birds? He could fucking hear birds and Han laughed truly, for the first time in a long time. He could smell the soil and it was intoxicating and he took in lungfuls and couldn't stop laughing, nor did he want to. He grabbed Lance into a hug and into dancing silly dances under the cleansing rain that drenched them. He couldn't smell the foul copper anymore, and surrounded by resurgent wild, dancing in the centre of his soul, Han finally stopped resenting that his own heart was still beating.

III.

"Will you please! Stay still!" Han pleaded to unlistening, moist ears as Perk, the plecostomus-dog hybrid, slipped away from his arms and flopped onto the concrete sidewalk, fins that were alarmingly dry already padding with determination towards the gate of Bumpy Roads Petting Zoo. It was late afternoon, but the sun was hot enough to make the pavement potentially unsafe. Han sighed and kneed the leash, and five seconds later his own face again got slathered by a tongue wide enough to taco-wrap his head.

He attempted to palm some moisturising lotion, which Perk, again, tried to lick off his hand. "Just… for all the parasites that you must have given me from your questionably legal diet, just GIVE ME a MINUTE to put this on your skin! Then you can waddle wherever you want and not tear these fins!"

His defences were for naught, as Perk licked his hand clean and swallowed, then—Han dodging in time—promptly projectile vomited onto the sidewalk.

Riah chuckled; Han turned to see the man standing by the gate. "Oh thank god," Han said, exasperated. "Please will you help me get him under control? I'm not doing very well with his first time out of the sewers."

With a snap of his fingers, the smug fucker got the animal Han had been struggling to tame for the past hour rolled on his back asking for belly rubs.

Well, it wasn't Riah's fault Han gave up his powers.

"Thanks," Han said finally, and started putting moisturiser on the damn fins, "for that. And for the time. He got too accustomed to eating vermin and I don't know how to get him to switch to something more accessible. Like supermarket dog food or something."

"It's alright," Riah said in a gentle voice, also now putting lotion on Perk's other fin. "You take care of the humans, leave the animals to me."

A roar came from across the street. Shouting ensued, and then a very angry woman in a black blazer stormed out of Garmesan's Grill, pointing fingers while a man in a leather jacket tried to console her. A jet of smoke shot out from the door and the man, too, started shouting. Another jet came out, this time with a lick of fire. The couple stormed away.

A group of maybe university students stopped, though. They looked at each other, and slipped into the restaurant.

Han frowned. "Are you sure it's a good idea? It doesn't look like a very… relaxing venue."

Riah had resumed rubbing lotion on Perk's back, who had flopped over onto his side, apparently deciding that lotion was cool now that Han wasn't doing it, the jerk. Riah shrugged. "I mean Garm runs the place, and so by proxy Lance, and so by proxy the Council trio, so it's as safe as anywhere in the city can be."

"Someone literally just got singed by the hair."

"It's part of the experience, like those chef shows. Also, the trio runs it, so it's free."

"I don't think that's how it works. Or that the invitation says it's free."

Riah winked at him. "It doesn't say you have to pay, either."

Han smiled. "I don't think that's how that works, either."

"Guess we'll just have to find out."

This easy laughter, the both of them each in their coats of possibilities. It was like back in uni, in a way. They were separated, but they were here now, standing on history but unshackled. Free. At peace. He can do a lifetime of this.

Han cleared his throat. "So how long will this training take?" The plecodog had decided to take a nap on the concrete sidewalk, of course he did.

"Can pick him up after the dinner. Speaking of," Riah stood and glanced back at the zoo. "Agatha has held the Wingleheimers hostage at the ice cream circus. Gonna be there for a while."

"How is that an actual sentence and why does it make sense?" Han shook his head, scooping Perk up in his arms. He was snoring, the adorable jerk. "And I think the Council trio are at City Hall doing Council stuff until Garmesan's."

"Fancy a tour, then? It's a petting zoo after all. My petting zoo."

"Will there be rice bowls?"

"There are always rice bowls. And sushi. I made sure of it."

Yeah. It would be nice.

fin.

In a darker universe where the twin suns held the inner sky…

"…You ungrateful git," Marc gritted the words through his teeth before the bed where Cameron laid frozen. "You can be set for life! Running your stupid Frankenstein shop for decades! Now you come back here and spit on my face. How. Dare. You."

Han would have cowered, at least, a lifetime ago. But a lifetime ago he also fought back, and their paths splintered then. "I didn't. I'm asking you in exchange for my services, you return the hospital to the City, and withdraw Wander Pharmaceuticals from Payne Town. It's cheaper than what you're willing to pay."

"I was born here. This is where my legacy started."

"Or it's a hotspot of Mythic activity that your experiments depend on, and the proprietary medtech that is the heart of your wealth depends on their continuation?"

Marc seethed, but stayed silent.

"You didn't find me by coincidence, did you? The Council doesn't know you, the layer behind the layer and all that. But the rats speak, Marc. And they speak to me."

Han glanced at Cameron behind Marc, a stitched amalgamation of artifice with a spotless exterior, and shook his head. "You seek peace and resolution, do you not? Please, leave this place, so I can find mine, too. Run the rest of the world somewhere else. Just not here, not this city. That's all I ask."

"The offer is off the table," Marc said, rage bubbling behind his eyes, going for the door. "The city has always been mine, and you have the nerves to try. Leave. You will suffer, mark my words."

The door would not budge. Instead, mud dripped through its hinges.

Han could feel the stillness in his heart breaking. It was not calmness, not truly, but more a dam as artificial as the reconstituted corpse on the bed, now crumbling, bursting at the seams.

He walked over to Marc, their faces inches from each other. He did not know what he looked like, but for a second Marc looked terrified.

"Give up the city, Marc," Han said, his voice straining, trying to hold back something he had abhorred for so long, but what exactly, he didn't know. It was difficult to remember why he even struggled. "For once in your life care for something other than you and yours. For once, step down and off the broken backs of those you deem lesser. For once, just once, Marc, do something good."

The conqueror shivered, but pride is an eternal sin. "Over my dead body," Marc spat on his face.

Which melted, falling off like mud. Marc stared on as blood fled his face, and screamed.

"Then may this sin be my last."

It was not the last.

As the waves of the blood ocean consumed the fallen king, his corpse cut open, so was the threshold to the abject beyond, flayed into tatters blowing to unseen winds from the rippling void.

As his mind crumbled, fragments subsumed by a hatred beyond words, Han heard his own voice singing, torn vocal cords croaking discordant notes of a mad symphony.

I finished what I started I finished what I enabled I finished, now I shall become.

As the twin suns split, the blood ocean stilled into a vast mirror. Even the squirming lieutenants beneath the waves stopped in reverence.

I finished life, now death may die I finished death, now our Lord may rise These hands of grace now handle demise.

As one half of the binary stars withdrew from the cosmos back to the darkness beyond, the night grew even darker, unshackled from the blasphemy of starlight. In their place, from the ascendant void, skinless angels without numbers descended, joining what was Han in hymnal praise that vibrated the world.

Hail, Womb of the Midnight Sun Hail, oh dark sacrament Bless us with the honour of divine delivery.

The Midnight Sun stirred, the cosmic embryo opened His eyes. May the majesty of their jaundice glow be the only light this world deserves.

Hail, the Enemy of All That Live Hail X'chll'at-aa.

[dearoldpoet]

cherry blossom

this is a short story i thought of as i listened to cherry blossom by lana del rey. the piano keys!

word count: 1.3K

I was sitting at the piano, tapping the same cold keys and drinking the same red wine. It was dark with a hint of purple and it tasted sour, unlike most wines. I wondered if it had sat in Leo’s car long before I got here; the trip inside must have been severely overdue in this heat. It was reaching the 100’s in Texas and leather seats were catching fire if left without a smidge of air rushing in. 

Nevertheless, I was sipping the sour wine that smelled slightly of vinegar and touched another key. It was a black one instead of the lower white parts. It made a horrible sound, like the kind where kids slam their hands against the church piano after service hours. It rang through my head and I had to halt my motions. It was my third tall glass of wine and not only did I have to drive home, but a headache began to simmer. 

Leo’s great body sat beside me and the smell of cigarettes and whisky wafted into my nose. I never minded that he smoked, unless he smoked inside without my permission. It was his home and he could have done as he pleased, but he respected my limits. I smoked every now and then, but only under drunken borders when I was hungry for one and simply the word caught my attention. However, I couldn’t be in the same room as a smoking bystander–unless they asked beforehand. It’s common etiquette to do so, even in one’s own home. 

“You know how to play?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in curiosity. 

I scoffed and fell to his side where his shoulder was already digging into my neck. “No. Hell no.” 

“I thought you lived on this side of town?” 

I pursed my lips to hide the laugh pushing against my teeth. “I did, but my family didn’t own a house, or own anything inside. I lived with an aunt who was more so like Aunt March. She didn’t allow us to feed off her, although we never were. We only lived with her after we were evicted from our old home. She let us grow up there even though she didn’t need to.” 

“Did she have a piano?” he continued with his raging questions. 

I nodded. “Yep. But she was always home. I guess it was because all of her friends were dead, she had no husband, and had little to no business. Not only that but she had people drop off her groceries and clothes and dry cleaning and such… So there were no feet of hers that stepped out of the house unless she was checking on her garden.” 

“So what did you do? Or learn, due to your unavailable piano skills.” 

I tapped another key, earning a high pitch sound that shocked my brain. I was not to play anymore, but with Leo’s big arms and tasteful aroma, I was a nervous wreck. “I made mud pies, so I guess call me a baker.” 

He laughed and tapped the softest key. Over and over. I would usually tell him to shut up, but I allowed him to play. I knew he was a skillful piano player and if I watched his fingers glide about the keys, it would not only feed my ears, but the nasty thoughts in my head. 

“Anything else, Miss Viv? Maybe your makeup skills? Or your acquired taste in fashion?” 

“No,” I said, instantaneously. “I learned that on my own, far from here. When I lived in California. My aunt was a grouchy old lady who didn’t understand modern fashion. She was holding onto the old times and it killed me to listen to her slut-shame every woman on television. When I moved to California, I found some ladies with unique fashion–the kind where you pair pieces together that make no sense but so much at the same time. They loved doing one another’s makeup, too, and well, they dragged me in. I met many makeup company owners and was able to work with many as well. That’s how I got back here. In the modern, less cowboy side of Texas.” 

Leo stopped touching the keys and was now shimmying his fingers towards mine. I sat up a little more straight to show I was intrigued by his actions and actually hungry for his touch. “Do you plan on staying here for long?” he questioned with a tinge of his Texan accent peeking through. 

I shrugged. I truly did not know how to respond, or if I wanted to at all. “I don’t know,” I said, repeating what I had just thought. “I’m not the biggest fan of Texas. It’s a big state, but it doesn’t feed my enjoyment as much as California does. Even if you live in Downtown Dallas or Houston or Austin, it still feels small. There are only so many places you can go and live in in Texas. In California you see a lot, you can find yourself in a new place every day. When I lived here growing up, I saw the same places, I knew the same people, I knew the girls by NAME at the local thrift shop,” I exclaimed and laughed. “That might be the same in Cali, but it feels different.” 

“So… no?” he chuckled. 

I shrugged again. “I have no reasons to stay besides inheriting my aunt's home. I could always move back if I wanted to.” 

By now, Leo’s hand was on mine, cupping my softened fingers and rubbing his thumb over my index. I hadn’t noticed throughout my rambling monologue, but now that there was a short silence over us, I had a moment to look down. The sight made my insides rip apart and tumble around. I was twenty-eight and still got nervous over attractive men. However, Leo was different. He was six-foot-two and didn’t stand over me like a flailing flag. It was more so like a Greek statue: a soft yet thick build that warmed me like a heater. 

“Moments like these don’t hold you back?” 

His whisky breath and cigarette scent cuddled me. I invited its embrace and hoped it would continue because I was begging for a reason to stay in Texas. I had only met him a couple of days before in a modern bar Downtown and I needed him. Not just his number or his name, but him: his cool green eyes and hunky biceps and the line that traveled down his stomach. It embarrassed me to say I had seen him half-shirtless, but I had. 

The first time we met, his date spilled a vibrant hot pink drink on his white shirt. On his way to the restroom I threw a damp towel his way and helped him clean his shirt. That was when he thanked me and told me his name: Leo Colstoy. 

“Moments where you lock me in your home and drink wine with me? Oh yes, most definitely.” 

His cheesy grin and slow laugh tugged me closer to him; his hand was now dropping onto my lap and the other was lost on the sleekness of the white piano. “Then more of this locking you in my home and keeping you to drink wine with me will be booked. I hope to be the reason you stay.” 

I bit down on my bottom lip to suppress a smile. It was as large as his, if not triple the size. I was not surprised by Leo’s frankness, only that he liked me back. He was a flirtatious guy; I assumed he spoke to every woman who smiled his way. 

“Really?” I continued, hoping he’d pull me in for a kiss. 

I wasn’t wrong, though, which made me leap with joy. He turned around just enough for his lips to catch mine. The wine in my head shot down to my chest and yanked my heart down to the pit of my stomach. I shut my eyes tight and didn’t open them until the pad of Leo’s thumb caressed my lips. 

I opened my eyes to his cool eyes and smiled. “This will keep you here, right?” 

“Yes sir, Cowboy.” 

[randynova]

Can you do a Kyojuro Rengoku smut story where Kyojuro and the reader eloped?

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧

ᴋʏᴏᴊᴜʀᴏ ʀᴇɴɢᴏᴋᴜ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ?: ʏᴇs

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟼.𝟸ᴋ

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ(s): sᴍᴜᴛ, ғʟᴜғғ, ᴇʟᴏᴘᴇ/ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴀʙᴜsᴇ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

A.N.: Hi, thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it! This is my first attempt at writing for Kyojuro so I hope I did good! This is pretty long, and one of my requests that took long. I think I have at least 2-3 more like this. But hopefully, I can finish them all before school begins.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

"Stupid boy! How can you associate yourself with such a disappointment of a girl?! Courting the daughter of a crap cook?!" Shinjuro grits, taking a swig of sake and glowering at his son. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing! The liquid burned his esophagus as it ran down his throat, yet with the fury pumping through him, the alcohol did nothing but fuel his emotions. A groan leaves him and he throws the clay container at the slayer, missing Kyojuro's head by a few centimeters as it smashes into hundreds of pieces upon hitting the wall. "Ugh— what a worthless son you are! I can't even count on you to bring honor to this family…!"

Shinjuro knew your family very well and he despised them, especially your father, where even the mere mention of the man's name ignited a strong scorn within the former pillar. Even if he could care less about what his son did, he'll be damned if he allowed his eldest to bring the Rengoku name shame!

"What…?" Disappointment? Kyojuro thought bitterly, frowning. My [Name] is far from that….  

Yet, Kyojuro kept his mouth shut, trying to keep the bubbling anger at bay upon hearing the jibes from the former pillar. If anything, his mother taught him to never disrespect his father and a part of him still wished for his approval. However when Shinjuro continued his slander parade, grumbling about your 'disgraceful' family, dragging your name through the mud, and calling you 'an easy wretch who'd open her legs for anyone', Kyojuro felt his temper snap. It’s one thing to humiliate Kyojuro, but to snub his beloved for no good reason? Kyujuro would not stand for it.

Staring at his father, lips pressing into a tight-lipped smile and a darkened gaze, the man remained seated, seething in his spot whilst he clenched his fists. "Father, as much as I respect you, I cannot tolerate you insulting the woman I love–" Kyojuro could not finish his sentence.

The man cut Kyojuro off with a scoff, pushing himself off the floor, quickly moving onto his feet, and stumbling towards his eldest. Almost as if a firecracker had been lit beneath him, he shook with pure irate, thick brows knitting together, blinded with rage as he raised his hand. "Hah! 'Love'?! You of all people wouldn't know what it is with that thick fucking skull of yours!" Shinjuro grabbed Kyojuro's fiery hair and twisted his golden tresses between his fingers, hauling his son off the ground and flinging him to the floor. He didn't give his son time to react, his foot digging into the man's stomach as he shouts with pure disdain, "You're only nineteen! What the hell do you know about love?!"

"Father, I–" 

Shinjuro cuts his son off, practically spitting every word out in a venomous tone,"Shut up! Leave her! Let that damn girl live her life without you!" Shinjuro spits, the heel of his foot ramming into his son’s ribs,  "Ergh— for once, amount to something and find someone who isn't as worthless and talentless as you! Maybe then I'll finally be proud of a son like you!"

It's been a couple hours since the encounter where Kyojuro finally decided to announce to his father of his courtship to you, believing it would somehow make the older man just a bit proud of him. Perhaps even get his blessing as well! Afterall, the life of a demon slayer is unpredictable and who knows when it will ever be safe for Kyojuro to settle down, if ever. For once, he wants to live a life with you by his side, where he can finally be happy knowing he has a woman like you as his wife.

Yet even as his hopes were crushed, Kyojuro could not get his mind off it all, replaying his father's words over and over again as he made his way back to your home, kicking the dirt as he walked in the night. Shaky breaths left him, still getting heated just thinking about how his father insulted you. How dare he?!

You were one of the most kind and beautiful people he’s ever crossed paths with, truly the most remarkable woman in his eyes. One he does not ever regret meeting . With a sharp wit and strong resolve, you were by far the only other person to keep up with his chittering and bright character, as well as his odd but large appetite. It only spurred his interest in you more. Though the two of you have only known each other for a few months, he knew you were the one he wanted to marry one day. With a heart of gold and talent of ambrosia to cook the most delicious meals, he'd be a fool to let you go so easily.

Even if his father threatened to break you two apart —

"In the morning, I'm going to that damn cook's house and telling the bastard you're courting his daughter. Then we'll see how strong your 'love' is when she's engaged to someone else…"

— Kyojuro would make sure you will stay together. Thus, his own current predicament walking in the fields to the town you reside in. Hearing his father’s threat to break you two apart did dishearten him for a bit, but just the mere thought of surrendering you to another man so easily ignited a strange primal instinct within the man, one that made his chest feel heavy and his stomach twist. If there is any other man out there who dared take you from him, Kyojuro would not give up without a fight. You were his and his alone.

The slayer sucked in a sharp breath and sighed, defeated in getting his father's acknowledgement in your relationship. Then again, your relationship had not been officialized and had been a secret courtship, one that not even his closest friends knew. Yes, Kyojuro did want to announce his interest in you, yet he held himself back.

Part of him feared a demon finding you as a way to get revenge, while the other part of him didn't want to cause trouble for your family. Of course Kyojuro was familiar with the bickering going in-between the Rengoku and [Last Name] families, but he never paid much mind to it. It never caught his attention.

It wasn’t until the pillar stopped by your village to replenish and satiate his hunger, running across the small family restaurant. The name was familiar and he recognized it, though, the reason kept slipping his mind. At the time, only you and your mother were working, and after your mother’s refusal to attend to the man, you took it upon yourself to be a diligent server for the fiery man. To say he was stumped seeing you would be an understatement. 

A warm smile and mellow [E/C] eyes that had his heart thumping wildly in his ribcage, a voice as smooth and sweet as melting honey, a kind yet humorous character that had both of you chittering, stuck in a cycle of endless banter had it not been for your father kicking him out. In short, you left an impression on the man, especially after you gave him an extra order of beef nabe and sweet potatoes, asking him to please visit your family’s restaurant again soon. 

What can I say? The way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. And he could not understand his father’s hatred for your family.

And he did visit, numerous times in fact over the course of the year. Kyojuro found himself going to your village to eat after every mission, even taking his brother Senjuro with him a few times to further extend his visit as long as possible. It became obvious to the small boy as he noticed his older brother’s flushed cheeks and change of behavior whenever you came by their table, leaning in towards you and bashfully smiling, not to mention the rain of compliments after every bite. Senjuro felt out of place and could only stare with an awkward smile.

These little visits allowed Kyjuro to get to know you better, from your favorite flowers, to a wish to own a certain article of clothing, or your dream to visit all of Japan one day — maybe even the world. And he hung onto every word as if it were sacred scripture.

To everyone around, it was clear that the man was absolutely infatuated with you. If only you could see it, he thought. 

It wasn’t until your father threatened him to leave you alone was Kyojuro pushed to finally ask for your hand — which you gladly accepted with a smile of glee. With gifts and flowers, the man soon charmed his way to your heart and soon, you just couldn't wait to see him again.

Each night he returned from a mission, you prepared him a bento box and both of you shared it under the moonlight, sitting on the porch of your home or the nearby fields. He would tell you of his battles, chat about his friends, boast about his little brother and so on - it just proved how much of a humble, yet selfless man Kyojuro was and you found yourself falling deeper.

The two of you grew close, closer than he ever anticipated.

Kyojuro would never forget the night he plucked you for the first time, shedding his cloak for you as he laid with you in the fields, declaring his love for you as he sunk deep into your fluttering heat. Your beautiful smile when you said you trusted him, holding his face with your hands and telling him you loved him — the joy he felt that day couldn’t be described by words. The memory made his own body turn mellow, corners of his mouth twitching.

From the praises spilling from his mouth as your hands carved crimson lines to his back, slow heated kisses pressed to your bare neck and soft breasts as he moved with gentle caution, to sharing a deep kiss whilst he spilled inside your womb. Oh, he could never forget your strangled cry as you weakly called out for him, pulling him flush against your body as you came, whimpering and gasping. 

You were his and his alone, the same way he was yours and only yours.

The intimate time he spent with you, he would forever cherish it — even the many nights that followed where you spent in his arms, hands interlocked, and losing yourselves in the rapture of your love. Suitor or Husband, Kyojuro would not dare to treat you as anything less than perfect.

Your courtship would be something he could never regret nor ever stop.

However, Kyjuro paused, stopping in his tracks.  Speaking of, your courtship has been going well and considering the circumstances, it would be time to propose sooner rather than later. Yet, he would not be able to have his own family attend his wedding, the same way you would not be able to have your own parents present. The exchange of rice wine had to be in front of both your parents to be official, but his own father disapproved of you, and your mother and father hated all Rengoku men. 

Tradition had it that a wedding ceremony had to be at a Shinto shrine, maybe a local one if neither one of you could find one, but overseen by a priest — it was all Kyojuro wanted for you. Yet…

Not a lot of priests would oversee a wedding on such short notice, and some did not have a liking to demon slayer. So another dead end there. Racking his brain, Kyojuro still contemplated what you two could do.

Mm, perhaps if he asked Ubuyashiki to officiate your wedding ceremony at a nearby shrine in place of an ordained minister and plead to his fellow pillars to be witnesses to the exchange of rice wine, then you would really have the wedding he promised you one day.

The only choice now was to elope to ensure this would come true before the morning fell and risk losing you. 

Now, all he needed was his bride.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

The chirping of crickets and the breeze of the wind running through the tall grass drifted through the air, the eerie silence of mother nature never breaking even as the soft tapping against your room’s shoji frame rang in the night. Stirring awake, your eyes slowly flutter open, taking a sharp breath at the abrupt disruption to your slumber. The noise came again, the pattering against the paper door pulling you out of your dozy state. 

Odd, who could be out this late? 

Who —

Your eyes shoot wide open once the realization hits you. Kyojuro returned! Sitting up and throwing your blankets off, you crawl quickly to the other side of the room, the dark silhouette of the man lined out clearly against the translucent cover, his hair swaying in the wind. You take a moment to smooth out any stray hairs and take a deep breath.

Shakily, you crack open the divider. Peeking out the door, your face lights up upon seeing the fiery man waiting with a bright smile, his hand mid-air. A twinkle crosses your features as he visibly perks up, golden hues dilating seeing his beloved. How cute.

You did not think as to why he came here nor ponder too long on how late he came to your house, as your heart pounced out of your chest at the mere sight of your suitor and you were more than ecstatic to see him again after so long. "Ah! Kyojuro….!" You squeal as quietly as possible, sliding the door fully open, and flinging yourself to him, arms draping around his neck as he nearly falls backwards with a grunt. For a moment, the thought of your parents slipped your conscience.

Kyojuro leans over slightly so as to let your knees rest on the surface of the porch, avoiding having his beloved strain her body for a simple hug.  “Mm, hello to you as well, my love….,” he titters softly, his smile shifting into a wide grin, regaining his composure and wrapping an arm around your waist, pressing his palm to your upper back. His eyes fall shut whilst burying his nose into your hair and inhaling your honey-sweet aroma. The man’s heart thumped widely in his ribcage and you could feel every beat as it etched a tattoo against your bust. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, basking in one another’s presence as you remained in his warm embrace. The pillar could never get tired of the excitement you greet him with every time you see him, even if it’s only been a couple days since he’s seen you — which is rare— but it might as well have been years. If it were up to either one of you, you wouldn’t leave each other's side for a second.

Pulling away slightly,  your eyes meet his lively gaze, soft fingers trailing to his jaw, and cupping his face, running the pads of your thumb over his cheek bones. He leans into your touch, brows raising in content as he melts into your tender hand. It always made your heart swell when he preened at your attention. Sighing sharply, he places his own palm over yours and engulfs it, giving it a soft squeeze whilst still having a hand planted to the small of your back. This is one of the few things he looks forward to when reuniting with his beloved, craving it nearly everyday.

You hum, nuzzling your nose against his own, pulling a small chuckle from him. He bites the inside of his cheek, blood rushing to his face at the small action. "Kyojuro, I missed you…," you mutter with a slight purr, [E/C] hues boring longingly into his own before fluttering close, shrinking the distance between you two and locking your lips together The man holds your body close, slowly tilting his head and deepening the kiss. A small whimper drummed in your throat, parting your mouth wider and allowing Kyojuro to dip his tongue into the wet cavern, wet clicks drifting into the air. Hearing the cute noises you made had him wishing to hear more, almost enough to make him forget why he arrived here in the first place.

With much reluctance, he pulled away, panting as he murmured with a hoarse tone,  "Ah, we… I must discuss something with you. It’s… it’s important….”

Thrumming, you nod, looking at him expectantly. His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, opening his mouth yet nothing came out. You always made him tongue-tied on its own, but tonight, it was different. He could hardly find the words to bring up the urgent topic, knowing he would go on a tangent and avoid the statement altogether out of nerves. Before he knew it, the words slipped out without a second thought —

"Marry me, [Name]."

"Huh?!" You pushed yourself off of Kyojuro and stared at him in shock, clasping a hand over your mouth. You hoped your sudden outburst hadn't awoken your parents but part of you could not believe what he had asked you. The man did not seem deterred and gently took your hand from your face and joined it with his awaiting grasp, squeezing them tightly.

Rich and lucid hues gazed at you, his features etched with a determined expression, voice low and earnest as he pleaded to you, "Please marry me today and make me the happiest man alive knowing I have a woman as great as you as my wife. " Even hearing it again seemed surreal, but your brain went haywire at the declaration.

"Kyojuro, I… I," you mutter, fumbling over your words as heat rushes to your face, eyes shifting back and forth between his bright golden n' ruby eyes and your intertwined hands. The moonlight poured over you two and for a moment, he seemed to glow, noticing the blush coating his cheeks.

"Let me take care of you, my sunshine…," he begs once more, using the nickname that always had your heart pittering. "You bring my heart much joy and I cannot imagine anyone else to spend the rest of my life with."

Letting his words sink in, you began to wonder about his words. You’ve always dreamt of getting married since you were a small girl, tying the knot with the man of your dreams, and having a large family. He knew that, yes. Yet, as where you were now, the perfect man sat across from you, pouring his heart and soul to you, pleading you to be his wife. Of course you wanted to say accept his offer! But your family — life cruelly had a twisted fate in blessing you with parents that do not want you to waste a single breath on a man who was willing to give you a piece of heaven itself.

Though, for so long, you always did what was expected of you, never what you wanted. And for once, you wanted to control the direction of your life. Your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard you and smiled.

You don’t know when the two of you began to kiss, feverishly meshing your lips together in a heated sync as you retreated back into your room, stumbling over your feet as you shared each shaky breath, bodies flush against each other. Stray hands gripped his shoulders, both of you fumbling to strip yourselves of the restricting clothing. Though neither one of you dared pull back, even as the air became scarce, wanting nothing more than to be close.

Slipping his cloak from off his shoulders and tossing it to the side of the room, the man watched as you hastily unbuttoned his uniform, nimble fingers hooking around the waistband of his slacks before unbuckling his belt, pressing a heated kiss to your lips in between. Never has he seen you so desperate, so needy, pawing at his broad chest, running your hands over his muscles and shedding him of his shirt before knotting themselves in his hair. Yet, the way you pulled him close with a harsh tug made his heart swell, knowing you wanted him as much as he wanted you, feverishly connecting your mouth to his.  A string of spit connected your mouths as you parted, your hands still entangled in his locks, breathless and gasping with hazy minds and glazed-over eyes.

Even as he wished for both more than to bury himself inside you, Kyojuro did not wish to hurt you in the midst of trying to remove your clothing in a haste. Tears of pain was the last thing he wanted. Carefully, he peeled away the yogi enveloping your body, shedding away the fabric and revealing the soft skin of your small frame, swallowing dryly. Coarse fingers brush across your exposed skin, pushing the fabric down your arms until it falls to the floor with a soft thump. He followed suit, nudging you backwards until your back met the surface of your futon, his taut frame towering over your feeble form.

As you lay across the cotton sheets, Kyojuro’s eyes roamed your naked form with adoration, drinking in the bare skin of his wife with a newfound elation as you looked like a sinful dream come true. The soft glistening lips of your pussy under the glow of the moonlight looked so inviting, practically dripping in your arousal already, and he could hardly contain himself. The swell of your hips to the plumpness of your thighs garnered his attention, eyes taking in every curve and dip, ingraining each detail into his mind. Seeing his darkened expression, a small smile sets on your lips and you graze the side of your foot to his hips, tapping against his pelvis, and snapping him out of his lovesick trance. Of course, he had more than enough time to stare at you later.

Tonight, however, he intended to worship your body and make love to you.

He placed himself at your feet, running his hands up your smooth skin, and leaving a hot trail in his wake. Shuddering at the sensation of his calloused hands, hardened over the years of training brushing over you now with the intent to pleasure you. Giggling, you clench your thighs together, taking in your bottom lip between your teeth.  Groaning with delight, he nestles his face between your legs, spreading them apart with caring hands, his mouth salivating at the sight of your soft weeping cunt. His heart hammered in his chest, hot breath fanning against your flesh, and his eyes glazed over as he glanced at you. With a grin , he softly presses his lips to your heat, never breaking eye contact as he dips his tongue between your slick folds. 

“Ah…!” You clasp your hand over your mouth, sucking in a sharp breath as he wasted no time to lap tentatively at your cunt, slurping eagerly and licking long, flat strokes from your entrance to your aching clit. You could feel him smile against your heat, amused at how easily you slipped up. Though, you could care less at the moment.

Every swipe of his tongue had you arching your back as he made your lower abdomen tighten, grinding your hips into his hot mouth, moaning pathetically against your palm. Fuck, already the man had you slobbering on his chin, drawing strained cries from you as he prodded heavily and drew deep lines within your folds. You swore you could see the heavens themselves from each tentative lick.

Yet your throaty sobs sent him into a sort of frenzy, spurring Kyojuro on to continue his depravity. The slick of your core had already been coated with your sweet nectar, smearing his lips and becoming drunk on your flavor. Lewd noises trickled from where he laid, wet muscle applying enough pressure to have you writhing. "K-Kyojuro...!" You whine against your palm.

Your free hand finds its way to his sleek hair and knotting into his strands, trying to separate yourself from him before you made a mess. Yet the attempt was fruitless. The vibrations of his groans and grunts have you falling apart even faster, screwing your eyes shut as you call out to him weakly. Your thighs engulf his head, trembling in his grasp as he begins to suck on your clit, lips wrapping around the bud and pushing you closer to the edge. The twitching of your thighs gave you away and he knew you were close. So close to tasting you as he did many nights before.

Thick fingers grip at your plush, keeping you open as he carved out your sopping cunt with intense laps, swirling his tongue around your bud.  The muffled whimpers drove him further, slick and spit dribbling from his mouth. With a broken mewl, you gush into his awaiting mouth and spasm, bucking your hips as he drank your juices happily, tasting every drop you offered. You sucked in deep breaths through your nose, afraid to trust yourself to not make a noise, you weakly locked your quivering limbs around his temple.

God, you could never get used to him and his skilled tongue, but you were not complaining.

Pulling off with a pop, he left your poor clit alone before nudging your mound with his nose and nudging your legs apart. As your high began fading, attempting to catch your breath, you didn’t notice the butterfly touches near your lower half. Kyojuro  pressed a series of small kisses from your tummy, brushing past the underside of your doughy breasts,  to your sternum, his lips grazing your supple flesh as he trails to your throat. He slotted himself between your thighs and leered down at you with a teasing grin, licking away your arousal from his lips. His shaft throbbed almost painfully, needing to be stuffed inside your sweet cunt, cockhead dripping with pre-cum. His sweet love needed time to rest but his patience began to wear thin.

The world be damned, Kyojuro will make you the mother of his children and make you [Name] Rengoku — he needs you now.

With your mind slipping into a haze, you could hardly grasp as Kyojuro sunk into you, sheathing his length deep within your slick. Slowly, he began thrusting into your tepid heat, breathless against you as he pinned you into the futon. But as his body collides with your feeble frame, your core clenches and pushes against him, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the painful stretch. The sensitivity from your last release still had not faded, and you could feel the ache building up once more. 

"Ngh, K…Kyojuro…!" You mewl, clinging onto his shoulders, digging crescent shapes into his skin with every rut of his hips, your body rocking back and forth from how deep his girth hits with each powerful thrust. "Ahhhah, p-please don't —ahh!" Your legs instinctively wrap around his thick waist, pulling him closer as he continues pumping into your body. The fear of being caught leaves you, shamelessly whining for your husband, tears cascading down your cheeks. How could you remain quiet when you're drowning in an abyss of absolute pleasure?

Kyojuro heatedly presses his lips against yours, swallowing your moans in an attempt to silence you, afraid of letting the cute noises he loves so much to continue in fear of your parents barging into your room – to see him defiling their sweet daughter. Yet with the way your cunt is clenching around him, he was struggling to keep quiet himself. It doesn't matter how many times he fucks you, it always left him breathless from how tight you were. He could only hope your folks were deep sleepers.

Though, plucking you this time felt different. Sneaking into your house and fucking you late at night seemed surreal to the man, even as he was currently nestled in your velvet slick. Perhaps it was because now, he was fucking you as your husband, not as your suitor, and now — may your families be damned if they didn't want you two together — Kyojuro will make sure nothing keeps you two apart. Even if it meant he'd be disowned and an outcast, you were worth every punishment. 

Fat, heavy balls slapped against your ass, the wet squelching of your dripping pussy overflowing the dark room. He could create a whole record from the sinful symphony alone, his knees digging into the blankets as he glided back in with ease, hand kneading the flesh of your ass. The man melted into you, breaking the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck, taking your flesh in-between his teeth. The pinch at your skin made you squirm, curving your spine and pressing your breasts flush against his chest. He could feel the way your pussy spasmed, struggling to adjust to his thick cock splitting you apart.

The immense warmth of your cunny had him reveling, thighs twitching and flexing as you constricted around his girth, his pelvis brushing past your aching clit. He let out a strained moan, nuzzling his nose into your skin, inhaling your sweet aroma. God, he could never get tired of the soft smell of vanilla and flour, reminiscing of the day he first walked into your family's restaurant. 

It seemed  heavenly almost, seemingly reliving the first night the two of you were intimate, except now, you two imprinted your bodies into your very family home. "Kyojuro, f-feels so… so good! Ah, love—mnnn….!" You whine, raking your nails across his shoulder blades.

"Shh, q-quiet, my love…," Kyojuro rasps, knowing the moment you start babbling, your orgasm would follow. Every stroke had your head spinning, needing more. "God… just–just a little longer… need you – mmh, fu—ck – to hold your pretty moans in… C-Can you do that for me?" 

He had been right as you ignored his pleads. You throw your head into the pillow, his name weakly rolling off your tongue as your body goes slack, releasing over Kyojuro’s length, weeping pussy painting a thick layer of your mellow slick on his shaft. Soft noises left him as your cunt swallowed him greedily into a snug grip at the moment of your orgasm. Hot breath fans against your flesh, kissing along your shoulder and across your collarbone. Fuck, you were tipping him over the edge, the thought of filling you up and having you carry the next line of Rengoku men making his chest swell.

 "Mmm, G-God…," he groans, the deep moan falling past his lips as he sinks back in,  eyes shutting tight the moment he grounds into your tepid heat. Blood rushing and the balls tightening, he starts chasing his own high, pumping desperately into you as quietly as he could. The man rolled his hips at the end of each thrust, groaning at the sensation of your fluttering walls pushing against him, repeatedly pulling out until the bulbous crown of his cock remained, slamming in and leaving you breathless against him. 

He wraps an arm around your torso, balancing himself on one of his forearms whilst pulling you impossible close, thrusting sloppily into you with strained moans. His entire body convulses, a groan drumming in his throat as he unravels, hips stuttering as he spills into you. Thick ropes of fertile cum coat your womb and he pulls out with a gasp. Fluids trickled from your heat and he bashfully looked away.

Kyojuro collapsed beside you, falling on his side, panting quietly whilst staring at your glossy face.  He gulped, blinkling back his own tears. "I love you, [Name]... more than anyone else," he whispers, caressing your cheek with his knuckles before cupping your face. "Thank you for agreeing to become my wife….”

Your lips tremble as you stiffle a sob, closing your eyes and placing your hand over his own, his fingers resting on your hip."I love you too, Kyojuro… Hah, I'm so…. I'm so happy.... you chose me...."

“I wouldn’t have it any other way….”

For a couple hours, you laid in his embrace, slumbering peacefully, believing he did the same. But he stayed awake, watching every rise and fall of your chest with a smile of content. Soon, he’d be able to see this everyday. After cleaning up, you two were careful to make sure your parents had not awoken as you gathered your personal items together, both small and large.

In the wee hours of the night before the crack of dawn, Kyojuro helped you pack your things into a bag, carrying them on his shoulders without so much as a complaint, ready to start his life with you. Yet, even as you were prepared to leave, you felt the least you owe your parents — who gave you everything and gave you the best life they could — an explanation. With trembling hands, you poured your thoughts and emotions into the letter, clarifying your departure from the house and how despite their best efforts, you fell in love with Kyojuro Rengoku.  Tearing up, you were honest that because you knew they would never accept him and try to keep you apart from him, you two would elope, far away from them.

As the sun began to rise and peek through the mountains, the two of you took off and never looked back. To where? You didn’t know. But as long as you were together, any place was home. As long as Kyojuro was by your side, you did not care.

The Heart of the Dragon was a mystic potency in the life cycle of nature, but when set ablaze, it was a force to be reckoned with — especially when protecting the one they hold dear most.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

𝐵𝑜𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒: [𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔].

It's been a few months since you have eloped, as well as a while since the night you and Kyojuro slept together as husband and wife, a unique way of officiating your union without the blessing of either your families or a priest.

Of course, once you arrived at the Ubuyashiki Estate, you two were granted the wedding you dreamt of, with the Head of the Corps presiding. You looked so beautiful dressed in white, like an angel, and throughout the ceremony, neither you nor Kyojuro could take your eyes of each other. Not until your vows were sealed with a kiss did you two finally take in your surroundings. The blooming smiles and wide grins of the Pillars made your heart swell, knowing you had a new found family now, who fully supported your and Kyojuro's love.

And neither of you couldn't be happier - especially with a new life on the way. The man didn't let you lift a finger and pampered you excessively. Oftentimes, Kyojuro would laugh whenever the baby kicked your stomach, beaming as he said, "Hahah! They're just like their father — full of energy and ready to see the world already!"

Rolling your eyes, you smile wryly, peering at him occasionally whilst he rubs your swollen tummy. "Mhm, with a ravenous appetite too…," you mumble in between bites of your onigiri. He just couldn't wait to see his child, already tittering with names to possibly name them.

Every few days, he made sure you were participating in his family's long held tradition when carrying a child. In an effort to not let you be alone, he spends the two hours with you staring at the flaming torch, holding your hand and occasionally squeezing it. It made the experience all the more special.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

Though, for the time being, you were staying at the Butterfly Mansion in the last month of your pregnancy in case you went into labor early. The caterpillar girls aided you with glee during the time your husband was not available, determined you never exerted yourself. It was quite adorable really how they became excited when the baby kicked, chittering on how they couldn't wait to see them once they were born.

Though you knew Kyojuro would stop you one he found out, you helped in the kitchen and made many delicious meals for the household, always making sure each belly was full. Shinobu appreciated your help and often checked your health whenever she was home, the two of you chattering.

You make me happy, when skies are gray. 

However, Kyojuro received a new mission and had already departed to attend, promising you he would be back in time to see you give light to your child. He mentioned he sent a letter to his father's estate to notify them of your child's birth soon, hoping at the least, his father and brother got to know the new addition to the family.

Kneeling at your bedside, Kyojuro pressed a kiss to your temple, a kiss to your stomach, and a kiss to your lips. He pulled away and whispered with a soft smile, resting his hand on your tummy as he felt the prodding of the fetus kicking, "I love you, my sunshine… I'll be back in time for our son's birth…"

"I love you too, my love, but what if it's a girl?"

He hums, corners of his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch wider, "Then I hope she is as beautiful and healthy as her wonderful mother."

As you bid each other goodbye, you could not help the uneasiness pooling in your stomach. Yet you ignored it and continued your regular day, awaiting the return of your husband.

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. 

If only you knew it would be the last time you'd see him again, then you wouldn't have let him leave in the first place.

So please, don't  take my sunshine away.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

©ʀᴀɴᴅʏɴᴏᴠᴀ || ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ || ɴᴏ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs, ᴇᴅɪᴛs, ᴄᴏᴘʏɪɴɢ, ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ, ᴇᴛᴄ. ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴄɪʀᴄᴜᴍsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇs.

[winns-stuff]

LO RANT:

Sigh… Here we go again. I know I always say I’ll keep this short and then I write 24 paragraphs but I really do feel like I’m going to keep it short with this chapter.

First off, I’m glad Demeter came back it was lovely seeing her face and her appearance and her interaction with Cerberus had to be the only good thing about this whole chapter. One thing that I really despise though is just how lonely she looks… Everyone and everything is just constantly changing around her and she’s just supposed to get over it?? What the actual fuck bro, for a character that’s supposed to be a villain or whatever so many people around her are showing themselves to be way eviler in spirit than she is. Like I’m genuinely so done with Lore Olympus and a lot of the fans (they know who I’m talking about) because this whole Demeter hate train is reeking of internalized misogyny and I’ll tell you why.

There has been so many times in this fandom where any goddess or nymphs especially that isn’t Persephone or on Persephone’s side all the damn time has been insulted and dragged through the mud (just like demeter has) just for doing something fucking small while a man can get away with doing something absolutely disgusting and no one bats a fucking eye. It’s been a theme in this comic and this fandom to shit on all women for doing absolutely nothing and praise all the men for either doing the bare minimum or doing something heinous that’s used as a damn gag. I also don’t like how Rachel herself fuels all of this shit because she truly writes the characters in a way that you could tell which side is the side you should go for and which side is the side you should hate, she doesn’t give any of the women any depth and she’s always writing them so one sided and mean spirited that it’s hard to even root for them (if they’re not on persephone’s side of course) but she gives all the fucking men these damn 10 hour long backstories and explanations of why they do anything and basically defends them no matter what. That irks the hell out of me because she literally makes the decisions and she’s in charge of how everyone views the characters, I’m sure you can’t even talk to her about any of this shit either because anytime there’s even a little bit of criticism she takes it as an attack and all of a sudden you get witch-hunted by her millions of fans “defending her” by only making the situation worse.

Also something else that I don’t appreciate is just how women’s distress and discomfort is just used as a joke.. I’m so sick of that. That happens too much in real life, women are never taken serious when we say that we’re uncomfortable or distressed by certain environments or people and everyone undermines and belittles our concerns and we have to forfeit our safe spaces and put our minds on survival mode because people such as the “comedy” in Lore Olympus continues to treat it as a joke. You would think in a story that follows the story of Persephone, a young woman who is searching for her voice and identity after an absolutely disheartening and disgusting invasion of her bodily autonomy, would take in account that women’s concerns and our discomfort and our distress should be handled with respect and not taken as a joke wouldn’t go in a direction where they’re actively putting women in powerless and invading situations for the sake of a few “laughs”. Why would this even be comedy? Why is it not even being treated like it’s important? Everyone gets to brush it off like it’s nothing and they laugh at that joke just like they have been for centuries. I find it disgusting that that’s the main source of comedy in Lore Olympus and it really does defeat to impact on what could’ve been a powerful message.

Alright, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest and that I’ve cooled down slightly I’ll move on to a much lighter point. I hate the fact that it always feels like Persephone isn’t actually the main character, like is it just me? Because I never really get to see her be the main character herself, and I can’t even remember the last time I read about her thinking of herself. It’s always about Hades, Hades’ trauma, his backstory, his thoughts, his dialogues, his concerns, his everything. There’s so much focus on Hades that there is none of Persephone, I wanna know about her too. Not about what she thinks of Hades, not her loving Hades or daydreaming about him, I want a chance to get to see her personality outside of him. I absolutely despise the fact that romance is written so that one of the characters can trade in their personality, their character, and everything that makes them an interesting person just to be obsessed with the love interest. That happens to many times, when you’re in love yes you do think about that person but there’s a limit to just being in love and being unhealthily obsessed. It’s like if Persephone doesn’t think about Hades for 1 second she’ll die or something. You can be in love but you don’t have to trade your damn soul, you’re still a human being at the end of the day and it would be so much more enjoyable to witness if Persephone and Hades just fucking acted regularly.

Also, and this is very small too but, the dancing just kinda made me eye roll… And I absolutely love the art of dancing so that says a lot. But I just don’t think it’s an aww moment or anything, I don’t know. It’s kinda like that couple that’s always together and makes being in a relationship their whole personality which is the definition of Persephone and Hades. We get it that you’re stronger together and you can’t possibly be apart for just a few moments or make decisions without each other but damn can I at least get a crumb of development? What’s the difference between Persades now and Persades before? We know Persephone is a queen now or whatever but we don’t really even see her change or have any thoughts about it. No doubts or concerns? She’s just there and fine with everything it’s so boring and weird.

Anyways, this whole thing has been slightly draining and angering for me but I’m at a point where I will just be constantly defending Demeter because I don’t care. Also, Artemis is reeeallly making me regret giving her an appreciation post, like I don’t even know if I should scrap it or not. But yeah, like I always say… very biased and opinionated, also very hostile so sorry about that. If you don’t agree that’s fine and if you do that’s fine too. Can’t really articulate all the rest but if you’ve been here long enough you know what would be here and if it’s your first time I’ll come back and add it for you.

[astaroth1357]

"Hi kinda new. I don't know if this is where requests go, but if you haven't done it yet can I request an MC sneaking into the boys beds?" ~irenethehotdog

The MC Sneaks Into the Brothers' Beds While They're Asleep

@irenethehotdog don’t worry, I found ya anyway. 😁 Sooo there was a kind of tender way I could have played this… but then there was a funny way. I hope you're alright that I went with the funny way. 😅 I got two bed requests that are kind of similar-ish but how I’m interpreting them makes them just different enough to warrant two different asks. Here's the first one!

Check out my Masterlist for more!

Warning: Comical nudity? Is that NSFW-ish?

Intro:

Sometimes everybody needs a little comfort, especially in the middle of the night. Any number of things could have drawn the MC out of their bed: bad dreams, nagging thoughts, just general fear of the darkness of Hell that surrounded them, but they decided to try to soothe their unease with the company of their demonic housemates! Wonder how that turned out for them..?

Lucifer

I mean, if you’re feeling a little alone at night, maybe a little scared, it would only be natural to want to seek solace with the strongest person in the nearest vicinity, right? ...Right?

To say it was maybe ill-advised to just climb into bed with Lucifer would be an understatement… Frankly, if the enchantments he had on his door weren’t specifically meant for Mammon then they might have ended up in a very compromised position. But somehow, they managed to infiltrate the demon’s private sanctuary and get right up to his bed.

Now, Lucifer is not a heavy sleeper. Not at all. He’s grown pretty accustomed to waking up at all hours of the night because of his brother’s antics, so he felt the shifting weight on his mattress almost instantly.

They probably weren’t expecting him to suddenly jerk upright and spin towards them, fireball in hand ready to lob at their face... but that’s what they got.

After realizing that it was just the human and not Mammon coming in to take his stuff again, he made them sit down in front of his fireplace while he gave them a looong lecture about personal boundaries and how it’s really not smart to sneak up on demons like that… 

But he was still sympathetic to their sleep-deprived state so he offered them some tea and Devildom sleep remedies in hopes of getting them back to bed. ...Just not his. Back to your bed with you, MC.

Mammon

Mammon was their “babysitter.” Their protector. Their guardian. So why wouldn’t they want to go to him on a difficult night?

Getting into Mammon’s bed was hardly a challenge, sure they had to tiptoe through the garbage heap that made up his bedroom floor but it wasn’t Mission Impossible or anything…

What did catch them off guard was just how… not clothed he felt after they slid in under his covers. Like, pretty much wearing nothing at all. Not even a pair of courtesy boxers. 😓

It was their squeal as they flung themselves out of the bed that actually woke Mammon up. They had him ripping the covers off, ready to leap into action and everything, which definitely didn’t help matters. (Or maybe it did, depending on your point of view 🤷‍♀️).

Both parties pretty much turned into a cursing/blushing mess as he shot them embarrassed, rapid-fire questions while desperately trying to pull on some sweats. Meanwhile the MC stayed plastered up against the wall of his bedroom, answering him in equally defensive shouts.

Eventually, their fuss woke up Lucifer who was quick to send both of them back to their respective beds. The House teased them mercilessly for weeks… How were they supposed to know Mammon slept naked??

Leviathan

Levi might be a… strange choice for bedmate at first glance (he doesn’t really even sleep in bed, but a tub hardly meant for two people). However, there’s a certain level of approachability to him, isn’t there? Considering his own struggles with anxiety, maybe they thought he could relate…?

They tried knocking on his door first, thinking he might have been gaming, but there was no answer. When they walked in and found the otaku actually asleep for once, it seemed like their wishes might have actually been granted!

...But then came the actual trouble of trying to get into bed with Levi to start with. There wasn’t really an easy way to squeeze their body in past his because the tub was so dang narrow…

Any rational person might have just given up on the venture, but not MC. Whatever's possessed them to want to sleep with this awkward shut-in has a pretty good hold on them yet.

Lack of sleep might have been what gave them the bright idea to just try and lay on top of Levi veeerrry sooooftlllly…. Which is how the poor demon woke up to them halfway straddling his waist in the middle of the night.

His remarkably high-pitched scream woke up the whole dang House and the sheer amount of force he used when trying to jerk out of the tub toppled it over… Even after many apologies (and a trip to go buy a new tub), Levi still double locks his door at night to this day… 😓

Satan

Really an odd choice there, not going to lie. They’re well aware of the possibility that they could accidentally wake him and he maaaay not be the best waker (what being Wrath and all) but if it’s irrational worries that got you down, why not go to the most rational person in the House? Sounds like a perfectly logical decision, right?

That might have been what their half-baked disillusions were telling them on the way to Satan's bedroom but actually standing in front of the sleeping man was a whole other story. They felt crazy, genuinely crazy… But they still slipped in under the covers anyway.

Satan stirred almost immediately and turned to face them… but his eyes could hardly keep focus and the look of dopey confusion on his face could have honestly made the perfect screen background. "Huuuuuh…? MC…? What're you doin' 'ere…?"

They kind of had to hold in a laugh while they explained that they just wanted to sleep next to him that night. Satan beamed them an oddly serene smile and just nodded. "Okaaay…" With that he seemed to roll over to go back to sleep… but his mind caught back up with him before his drowsiness did.

"Wait a minute..." Ah shit….

 Like Lucifer, Satan ended up giving them a pretty good lecture on boundaries and the like when he finally snapped out of his stupor. Thankfully he wasn't mad, just a little embarrassed that they had seen him like that. He offered them a good book or two to pass the time if they couldn't sleep, but sent them back to bed all the same.

Asmodeus

Asmo probably doesn’t get people coming into his bed with completely chaste intentions very often, but he’s by far the most emotionally in-tuned demon in the House. If they're after a little sympathy, best just go to Asmo right?

They weren't really sure what to expect when they walked into his room... Does Asmo sleep like a Disney Princess, hair and makeup done perfectly in defiance of all laws of beauty?

Does he sleep like a '60s housewife, with curlers in his hair and leftover chips of mud mask on his face?

Does he sleep like the god of all sex that he is, sculpted chest for the eyes to see and everything underneath laid bare like a honeypot of temptation??

The MC doesn't really get to know, because when they pulled back the covers to climb inside they were met by the sight of someone else's very naked ass taking up the spot where they thought Asmo should be.

They go back to their room willingly, dejected and maybe a little scarred... Apparently they were just too late to the party...

Beelzebub

Okay, everything about Beel screams “Hello! I’m a warm comforting teddy bear!”...aside from the hungry parts. It’s really not hard to see why they’d want to go to him if they’re feeling a little vulnerable.

They didn't worry too much about being quiet when they walked into the twins' room. Belphie could sleep through a rock concert and Beel wasn't too far behind him (as long as he wasn't hungry).

They figured that the tall twin wouldn't mind too much if they just crawled into bed with him… He had make a similar request of them before, it was only fair right?

As they were preparing their tired body for a good night's sleep, they gently pulled the covers back next to Beel but they probably weren't expecting to find so many food wrappers surrounding him… or bags of chips… or packages of cookies… or-

Apparently Beel had yet another sleep-eating run and this time he seemed to have brought the whole kitchen back with him. There was hardly enough room left for Beel anymore, let alone the MC!

Considering their options were to either wedge themselves between a havoc roast and a bag of jerky or just brave one more night on their own, they cut their losses early and went back to their own bed...

Belphegor

They didn’t have to know Belphie since Day One of being there to pick up on how hard he slept. The man was pretty much in a coma for most of the day and that included his nightly rests too. Would he even notice if they… per say… slipped into bed with him to get a little comfort from their nightmares? Surely, he’d stay asleep, right?

When they didn't see his sleeping form in the room he shared with Beel, the MC eventually found Belphie up in the attic room. His little hideaway with a plush-ass bed to boot.

They didn’t bother being quiet at all. They figured that Belphie could have stayed under for anything short of banging pots and pans in his ears so why try to mask their footsteps?

They never expected him to be awake. 😰

The moment they lifted the covers, Belphie struck like some kind of blanket crocodile! He grabbed them by the waist and dragged them into the spot of the bed right under him with a impish grin on his face.

Turns out they weren't the only ones having sleeping problems that night and as they felt the full weight of his worn out body settle in nicely up against theirs they knew that maybe, finally, they'd get a good night's sleep… 🤭

[silverhallow]

I saw this in a previous Ask you received, but could you pretty please write something about Benedict throwing hands at a ball when he sees someone being mean to Sophie, social norms be damned

I’m gonna post this as a drabble on Ao3 shortly but I couldn’t resist…

So here is Benedict hearing one of the other gentleman from that night talking about his wife…

it’s under the cut cause it’s a little over 2k

(yes I know technically not a drabble 😂😂😂😂 I got carried away… shock)

Benedict should have known it was too good to be true. The ball was going far too well, everyone so far had loved Sophie, the new Mrs Bridgerton was a delight and as he walked around the room with Eloise, whilst Sophie was dancing with the Duke of Hastings, he was revelling in people’s nice words and compliments about his wife.

They had stuck to a simple story, a version of the truth, that he had met Sophie in the country, that she was the daughter of a cousin of the Late Earl of Penwood, hence the family resemblance.

It had been at a local assembly they had met, fell in love, and married. Their courtship was conducted via letters, and when he visited the country. When people had asked about her family they had lied and said her parents died a few years earlier and she had been staying with a family friend.

People didn’t pay much further into that. Daphne and Violet had been very careful as to who they invited to the end of the season ball, the party that was celebrating Benedict and Sophie’s marriage and Benedict had not expected to run into any of them here.

Benedict and Anthony had paid Mr Phillip Cavender a visit the day Benedict got engaged to Sophie and they had made it very clear, that he was not to say a word, that he was not to breath in Sophie’s direction, that he wasn’t to even suggest that he knew her and where he knew her from otherwise they would have him dragged through the mud for his behaviour that night.

Cavender had been too terrified to do anything but nod and agree. Despite outward appearance’s he wasn’t stupid. With the Bridgerton’s and the Duke of Hasting’s most likely to be involved, he would be ruined and the scandal it would cause him… well it was easier to shut up and as he was still desperately pursuing Cressida Cowper, he agreed.

What Benedict had not banked on… was one of the other two belligerent drunk idiots from that night.

Eloise had been taken to dance by an Earl, quite unable to work out why she could not, she had agreed, reluctantly and Benedict was stood with his sister-in-law watching as Sophie was now dancing with Anthony. Kate had asked to sit this one out, having already danced once with Benedict, when Sophie was dancing with Colin, it was when they heard it.

“I know her”, it was a greasy, oily voice and Benedict knew it well… it was the man, if you could call him that… who had, had his hands all over Sophie “I’d recognise them tits anywhere”

“Benedict…” came Kate’s warning voice but it was too late, Benedict had seen red, not caring about public decency, behaviour or that this was his sister’s home, he whirred around.

“I beg your pardon” he said, his voice as cold as ice, his glare hot with fury as he glared at the man.

Heasley flinched, realising who it was in front of him, but drew himself up to his tallest height, which was still a good five inches shorter than Benedict “You married the housemaid” he said sneering. His voice was quiet enough than no one would clear but it cut through Benedict.

“Excuse me but that is my wife” Benedict practically roared. “And you will do well to treat her with some respect”

Heasley snorted “respect? God she must be excellent in bed…” his words were cut off by Benedict grabbing him by the throat

“Benedict!” Kate said, rushing to his side.

“You will apologise!” Benedict said his hand still on the man’s throat as he spluttered and gasped.

“I… I…” he stammered unable to say anything.

Anthony and Sophie had heard the commotion as they danced and had started making their way over when Benedict’s hand had shot out and grabbed the mans’ throat and Sophie had gasped running over, Anthony hot on his heels, Simon coming after them as well.

Daphne who was pregnant stayed where she was but there was enough of a commotion that everyone was looking over now.

Sophie ran over “Benedict, what are you… OH MY” she gasped as her eyes locked on who it was, and she went instantly pale

“Benedict! Unhand him!” Anthony said putting his hand on his brother’s arm. “We are in PUBLIC” he hissed.

“This… vermin” he spat, as he released Heasley who dropped to the floor gasping “was there that night”

“Oh god… oh god” Sophie was gasping, her heart going a million miles an hour.

Anthony turned to his wife “take Sophie away from this… please, take her to the drawing room and get a brandy” he said to his wife who nodded, looking down at the spluttering man.

Violet was making her way over, seeing the paleness of her daughter in law, the fury in her son’s eye, she knew something had happened but seeing Anthony and Simon seemingly had it under control rushed to her two daughters’ in law and led them out of the room, ignoring the whispers that were rushing around the room.

Simon grabbed Heasley by the jacket and hauled him to his feet “what happened?” he said, his eyes on Benedict.

“I heard comments… about my wife… and her… assets” he said, trying to find the words that were diplomatic, whilst ignoring the rage that beat in his ears, the fury pounding against his ears, trying to ignore the urge to demand satisfaction, to challenge the scum to a dual, or a boxing match to beat him to a bloody pulp.

He had expected comments about his wife’s faux background, but this… this would not be born.

Anthony turned furious eyes on the man who was rubbing his throat “you’re insane” the man croaked at him “all of you”

“That is my sister-in-law you are talking about” Anthony said, his tone every inch the aristocratic Viscount that he was,

“And mine” Simon said, pulling himself to his fullest height “and this is my home” he said furious.

Heasley finally had the sense to pale “I beg your pardon your grace, I did not mean to disrespect your home”

“No? Only my sister-in-law” Simon said menacingly.

Benedict was flexing his fists again and growled.

“You will leave this moment” Anthony said

Heasley scoffed “I did not think you would encourage your brother to marry a servant”

Benedict lost it, again, and he launched himself forward, only for Anthony to grab him “Benedict!” he said at his brother, furiously “either get hold of your temper or go see your wife” he said, his tone stern as he jerked his head around, there was still an audience.

This entire thing was going to end up in Whistledown, he just knew it. Benedict growled.

Simon turned to Heasley “I am assuming you have not spoken to your friend Mr Cavender in the last few weeks…”

Heasley paled again.

“You have two options here” Anthony said, his eyes flashing furiously

“One, leave immediately, never speak of this again, you have never met Mrs Bridgerton before and you will retain your place in London Society, outside of any of our presence of course”

“Or?” Heasley asked a little belligerently.

“Or we will make it known that you did in fact know Mrs Bridgerton and that you, like your friend, and other friend… attempted to rape her… in front of witnesses…”

Heasley paled.

“How long do you think your reputation will last… and how long do you think Miss Green will remain interested in you…” Simon said with a glare that would have made the Devil himself cower.

“Oh, and you shall apologise to my brother” Anthony said .

Heasley swallowed, looked around between the three men, all towering above him menacingly, his friend he had been talking, had moved away, and legged it and he was quite alone, and everyone was watching.

He had no choice “Apologise, Bridgerton… I meant no offense” he said, Benedict glared at him knowing it was not meant “and please apologise to your wife on my behalf, clearly I have her mixed up with someone else” he said before nodding his head to the Viscount, the Duke and then Benedict before turning.

“Oh, and Heasley…and pass his same message to your friend… Fletcher was it…” Benedict said, his eyes narrowing.

Heasley nodded his head and ran from the room quickly.

Anthony turned on Benedict “the hallway… now…” before turning to Simon “can you” he said nodding his head to the crowd.

Simon nodded and moved into the crowd, to explain it was just a misunderstanding, it was nothing and that Mr Bridgerton and Mr Heasley had a minor disagreement, and Mr Heasley had mistaken Mrs Bridgerton for someone else and that they could all resume the party…

Anthony dragged his brother into the hallway “Benedict, we are in BLOODY public! What were you thinking!” he scolded his brother.

Benedict glared at his brother “I am sorry, but he was commenting on Sophie’s tits, and how he knew who she was… I saw red… realising who it was…”

“Yes and grabbing him by the throat and fighting in public is the way to deal with it. And at your own party for god’s sake!” he yelled at his brother.

Benedict ran his hand through his hair “I did not think”

“Clearly!”

“But if it was Kate… if someone had said that about Kate…” Benedict said, his own defence, a low blow but he knew it was true. He had seen Anthony fly off the handle when someone had even suggested that Kate might have been compromised.

Anthony sighed “Next time just get me… or Simon, or both of us… do not think with your fists!” he said “there are far more gentlemanly ways to get rid of cretins like him…”

“Just be grateful I didn’t challenge him” Benedict said haughtily.

“Well, you know I’d have offered to be your second” Anthony said with a chuckle.

“Thank you”

“Let’s go make sure Sophie is alright?” Anthony said, with a sigh, his voice laced with concern.

Benedict swore, having forgotten Sophie had seen one of her tormentors and ran off through Hasting’s House and threw open the door to the drawing room with a cry of “Sophie… oh my love are you alright?”

Sophie ran to him, in a decidedly unladylike manner and hugged her husband.

Violet looked at her two sons and asked Anthony “what happened?”

“It is all taken care of… he will never darken our doorway again, any of us” he said, his words directed to Sophie mostly who was clinging to her husband.

“It was agreed that he had mistaken her for someone else” Simon said as he marched into the room “the party appears to believe me, they are carrying on…” he said with a small smile.

“Are you alright?” Sophie asked Benedict

“You’re asking me if I am alright?” he said, his eyes twinkling with surprise.

“Come, let us give them a moment” Kate said “we should re-join the party or people will think things are a miss” she said.

Violet and Anthony nodded and left the room.

“Are you alright?” Sophie asked again

“I am fine now… are you?” he asked, his hand on her cheek, caressing it.

“I am. It was a shock… but I am just… I am sorry you had to deal with him” she said sadly.

“Do not apologise for him” Benedict said “he is gone now, he will never bother us again, if he values his reputation”

Sophie’s eyes looked downcast “I knew… I knew we would have…”

Benedict placed a finger over her lips “shush…” he said “you need not worry everyone else loved you, I was practically skipping around the room listening to everyone gush over how much they love you… how they think you are perfect. No one else cares… so please…” he continued, his eyes boaring into hers lovingly. “Please do not think anymore and just think, two more weeks and we will be off to My Cottage, ready for some much-desired alone time” he grinned at her, a wicked glint in his eye.

Sophie blushed “I shall try” she said.

“That is all I ask” he said leaning down and kissing her. “Now come, I wish to dance with my wife again…”

“But we have danced twice already” she said as Benedict grabbed her hand and dragged her from the room

“And I plan to dance with you at least two more times” he said “I do not care if it not de rigure… If I want to dance with my wife… I will” he said.

Sophie laughed and let herself be dragged from the room.

The following morning when the last Edition of Lady Whistledown of the season arrived, it mentioned nothing of the fight, but it did mention that Mr Bridgerton was very much in love with his new wife, and that, it was refreshing to see a man not care of social conventions to show that he loved and adored his wife…even if it could have been deemed scandalous.

And Benedict, for the first time, was pleased at his mention in Lady Whistledown.

[lossie92]

I also kinda wish that people would be allowed to be into whump just for the sake of it, just because they enjoy it as a type of fiction.

Like, don't get me wrong, whump as a way of processing real life bad stuff is so important!! And I absolutely respect that, and it is an important thing to discuss! But I feel like people should also be allowed to look at heavy dark whump and hurt/comfort stuff and go "I just think it makes for a fun/interesting story to read", and it shouldn't be a big deal and they certainly shouldn't be labeled as horrible people for liking it, and even if the genre existed purely for, how should I say it, entertainment value I guess for the lack of a better term, which it most certainly doesn't as you pointed out, it still shouldn't be dragged through the mud.

I'll confess that I'm a bit of both. Sometimes whump is a wah for me to deal with negative emotions and other difficult stuff, a way to vent, etc. And sometimes I seek out whump stuff without any greater reason that I happen to enjoy seeing that character hurt and then taken care of and feel like reading fics where that happens, for my own entertainment. And I don't feel like either of those reasons should be considered wrong, and both of them are more than good enough reasons for such fics to exist.

And I mean like. I don't personally care for sex in fics. Honestly, I kinda find it a bit gross/weird most of the time. I know it's really popular and something a lot of people like, but it's not something I really enjoy reading about myself. But you don't see me up in arms saying that anyone who enjoys porn fics (whether the reason is that it's a way for them to explore their own sexuality or something like that, or it's just something they enjoy reading) is wrong and porn fics shouldn't exist and have no value, do you.

Like. At the end of the day this is just one of tjose things where my opinion boils down to "Let people enjoy things, and no they don't have to even have a reason to enjoy it let alone be obligated to disclose the reason to you, jesus fucking christ just let other people be will you"

Thank you for saying that, anon. It's a valuable addition to the conversation.

What I wanted to achieve with the post I made was not so much validate my interest and enjoyment of whump fics, but rather to provide my perspective on the subject as well as the perspective of a lot of readers and writers I know who feel similarly.

In the end, we all come to fandom for different reasons and all of them are okay.

As per my fandom motto: "As long as you tag it and put up warnings, and are not a dickhead to others, everything is fair game and you are free to explore and enjoy whatever the fuck you want, and you shouldn't feel bad about it."

Amen, I guess 🤷