#i want him to feel the worst pain imaginable. i want him to suffer

[pissfizz]

I still have his address saved I could literally doxx him if I wanted

[darkaviarymc]

Vent in tags, will probably delete later

[byuntrash101]

realistic sex with seonghwa

seonghwa x f!reader fluff | smut | mdni a/n: welcome to this series. where i'll try to imagine how each member would actually fuck, as ✨realistically✨ as possible. u voted for our shinestar to be the first one but tell me in the comments/asks who u want to see next. enjoy ♡ disclaimer: i say realistic but lets be honest this is pure delulu behaviour and total fiction. everything is solely based on the vibes the boys give off.

in the relationship he's very loving and attentive. seonghwa is a romantic at heart. he loves big gestures. like expensive gifts and fancy dinner dates. he's a passionate man

(an aries ♈)

although he's not into pda (doesn't dread it as much as hongjoong though who he utterly despise it). he likes to hold you and kiss you but he would rather do it privately

but oh boy when he gets you alone. you will drown in the love. you will suffer the wrath of his aggressive hugs and kisses

he will literally kiss your cheeks so hard that it will scrunch up your face or hold you so thigh that you can't breathe. for him there's no other way of showing his love for him. it's ardent and burning.

(did I say an aries?)

talking of getting you alone *wink wonk*

a ✨neat boi✨

he will always prepare a towel to you clean up before you even truly starts

I feel like you guys are kissing and things get a little heated he would straight up ask if you tryna fuck 

slkslskdlsdkdk

as soon as you say yes he hops off the bed/couch and goes to get the kit™ which includes towels, lube and toys

he might be prepared to clean up afterwards but thats only because he fully intends on getting n-a-s-t-y with you. before he cleans this man is going to make a mess

seonghwa is freaky (member of freak line with woo mingi and joong even if I think he's the less freaky out of the four). he plays coy but i feel like the demon takes possession of him when he’s on stage or in bed. 

he lives for the applause that's why he gives me the vibe of a service top. he usually doms but he will occasionally sub if his partner is into it.

if he subs that would mean he truly trusts his partner and he's ready to give up control. which I feel is something that is difficult for him to do

he will like to be on the bottom and seeing you ride him. 

he's more into praises than degradation but I feel like he would enjoy a healthy blend of both

"my good fuck toy", "you're being so good to me", "what a good little slut"

nothing too mean. he will surely enjoy being bossed around. (cfr that fancall where he literally folds because op tells him not to make her wait). he will enjoy when you give directions. command him to get in his knees for you, or tell him to open his mouth

but wether he subs or doms he will always enjoy some biting. he loves loves loves when you're close to him and you sink your teeth in the crook of his slender neck. he enjoys the slight pain

but most of the times he will top/dom. that's his comfort zone and it shows.

like I said earlier that man lives for your approval and your recognition so he will do anything to satisfy you.

and he will take 👏 his 👏 sweet 👏 time.

quickies aren't for him. he's a perfectionist. when he does something he does it 100%. he gives his all or he doesn't see the point in even starting… he'd rather wait until you have more time.

seonghwa loves and I means loves to give oral. he's oral giver line with mingi.  

he's ready to spend hours on knees head buried in your pussy ignoring his sore jaw and painfully hard cock just to make sure that when he stops your legs and trembling and you've soaked the bed all the way to the matress.

and the worst (best) part is that he's far from done

it's only the beginning of the fun

there's no point in changing the rhythm so once again when he finally slides into you he takes his time. he will coat himself with your juices grazing his tip along your folds and extra sensitive clit before pushing it in very slowly.

all the while being very quiet. barely exhaling a small sigh of pleasure because one big thing about hwa… he loves sounds. he has a huge auralism kink. so he will stay quiet just to get even hornier on the way you sound.

he wants to heart it all in great detail. (the perfectionism kicks in once more)

he wants to hear your pussy gushing out more nectar for him as he slowly fills you up

he wants to hear how you hold your breath while he gives that first slow stroke that you've been begging him for what feels like hours.

then sighs in pleasure as he reaches the bottom of you.

there he will bend down to kiss you.

sloppy kisses. very sloppy. with lots of tongue. he wants to share your taste (and realust of his hard work) with you

that's why I think hwa's favourite position is missionary. he can hear better and he can kiss you while fucks you.

he loves to make you moan into his mouth. he wants to swallow your every sound of pleasure he wants it all.

and he won't be satisfied until he makes you cum at least twice (and i insist thats the bare minimum). because hwa is an over achiever and also a good guy and as goes the famous saying: nice guys finish last.

it's only when you're satisfied (read: exhausted and worn out to the bone) that he will finaly cum too.

he doesn't have favourite spot he likes to cum anywhere on or in you. well at least that's what he says because I feel like he loves to finish inside or all over your pussy.

he loves to see how good he ruined you and messy your cute little cunt got for him. pulsing, weeping, creaming. all swollen and red.

he loves to know he's the one that made you like this. 

hwa is possessive it's less on the nose then joong but still

also you remember when I said freaky?

he's def the type that goes down on you for sloppy seconds after he's finished. if he's feeling extra generous (sadistic) he will drag out yet an other final orgasm out of your exhausted little cunt. just to have the pleasure of hearing you whine louder and squirm under him. pining your thighs open while he tastes himself on your folds.

with hwa it's not over until it's over

and finally he will share the delicious blend of your burning love for one an other with you in a passionate kiss. this time around the passion is more controlled less carnal and more romantic. he wants to show you again how much he loves you and this kiss is the prefect way

right after of course he's running around the place to bring you water and clean you up

maybe even washing you up in the shower if you aren't too tired and you can still stand (9 times out of 10 you can't) if you are too tired then he'll simply let you sleep in his arms (and never in the wet spot. if only there's one. chances are he prepared well enough and there's none)

like I said a neat boi <33

who should i post next?

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

realistic sex with mingi, with yunho, with wooyoung, with san | ateez masterlist | navigation

[myfictionaldreams]

~ Poly!Marauders Masterlist 🐺🐕‍🦺🦌📚~

Hello lovely, I hope you’re having a great day. Welcome to my harry potter masterlist! I love to write in my spare time and the fiction that I create is for 18+ readers ONLY please. Also, everything is character x fem!reader and please, read the tags carefully before continuing.

Masterlists ♥ A03 ♥ Tags  ♥ Question? (requests closed)  ♥ latest works ♥

sweetheart needs looking after (fluff, angst)

You were warned not to be a brat today, but when you start to feel unwell, how will the boys react when this mistake your behaviour for being a brat?

the boys always cause trouble (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

The boys were infamous around Hogwarts for their pranks but what if one ay they do it to the wrong people, and you get hurt in revenge?

good morning (smut) 

You loved waking up in the arms of the boys but today, James has other plans for the morning.

the dueling club (fluff, smut, angst)

You were tasked to practice your defensive skills but when you are paired with your worse nightmare, how will the boys react watching you duel their enemy?

the full moon (ch.1) (ch.2) (ch.3) (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

The full moon was approaching, only a few days away and the effects were slowly starting to take over Remus, but there’s nothing you can do as you watch him turn from the soft loving boyfriend to the posessive and rough werewolf to hide from.

showing off  (fluff, smut, angst)

The boys love goofing around but what happens if it brings the attention of the Slytherins. How will the boys react when they find out that you’ve bee harassed?

let me calm you (fluff, smut)

It was the last quidditch match of the year and James’ nerves were getting the best of him, so you did your best to calm him down.

we'll sort this later  (smut)

The boys had left you being edged all day until you couldn’t take it anymore.

safe & sound (fluff)

The sound of thunder ripped you from your sleep, luckily the boys are there to comfort you.

a bad day  (fluff, smut, angst)

You have a bad day so the boys try and make you feel better.

breakfast in bed  (fluff, smut, angst)

You were in subspace and has a panic attack and the Marauders try to calm her down.

you’re safe  (fluff, smut)

You have a nightmare and the boys do their best to comfort you.

happy halloween(fluff, smut, angst)

You were your own worst enemy. The boys have surprised you by changing their looks for the Halloween party but you can't decide if you're highly aroused or intimidated by their new looks.  

aftercare - kinktober  (fluff, smut)

How the boys look after you after a heavy nightly session

they are mine (fluff, smut, angst)

They were harmless, they just wanted to be friends with the Marauders nothing more... right? What happens when three Ravenclaws become suspiciously too close with your boyfriends?

i need to feel you  (fluff, smut)

Waking from a lust-filled night, you were feeling slightly needy.

red  (fluff, smut, angst)

The word 'red' kept flashing into your mind but it wasn't something you'd ever had to say before. How will the boys react when you're forced to say it?

first time  (fluff, smut)

At the beginning, you were simply four friends but how was it that you all became more than this?

pain over pleasure (fluff, smut, angst)

It was very important that during your most intimate of moments, you kept clear communication with the Marauders but, when you fail to do this, you have to suffer the consequences of which you'd been warned about.

horny little devil  (smut)

There you were, tied to the bed, wishing to be touched but, Sirius and Remus ignored you, continuing on with their own pleasures. Thankfully, James has returned from Quidditch practice, he'll help you... right?

how far is too far? (fluff, smut, angst) 

James had discovered a new spell that is supposed to give you the most blissful pleasure imaginable. However, not everything goes to plan.

what are you wearing?  (fluff, smut, angst) 

The latest lingerie trend did not look comfortable in any way but you still fell for the marketing and purchased your own, assuming that the boys would want you to dress like everyone else. However, when you decided to show off your outfit to Sirius, his reaction is anything but positive as he sees how uncomfortable you are.

working hard (fluff)

You're working hard, maybe too hard as you have been neglecting to take care of yourself. You end up fainting, hitting your head and, having a seizure and needing the boys to look after you.

spanking/flogging - kinktober (smut)

Sirius, ever the one to explore the kinky side of life, has bought a new toy which you're a little apprehensive about.

bondage - kinktober (smut)

Trying something new included you trusted your boyfriends to restraint you in the middle of an empty classroom.

coercion/blackmail - kinktober - dark!marauders (smut, dark!!)

They wre waiting or the ideal chance to find you alone and the perfect opportunity arose when they saw you on the Marauder’s map as you ere sneaking around the restricted section of the library.

Family (smut, angst, fluff)

Sirius Black, the usually happy prankster within Hogwarts, had a special skill for hiding his emotions. Until one day, he's forced to face the realities of the troubles with his family.

Say My Name (Smut, fluff)

It was an uncommonly tranquil night for you and Remus, as James and Sirius had gone out to attend a party. The reason you and Remus decided not to accompany them was quite simple: the Full Moon was approaching. This meant that your otherwise calm boyfriend would become fiercely possessive and feral.

[rroseselavyyy]

tattoo - myg

pairing: yoongi x female reader

warnings: smut, prone bone://///

Under wet lashes adorned with tears as clear as the crystal sky, your eyes always found a way to betray you when they lingered on his figure with deep longing. Min Yoongi always made you feel elephants jump in your stomach, hurting the butterflies that used to tickle you all over with the feeling of how much you were head over heels for him.

He was infatuated with the wings of those butterflies. So infatuated that he waited for them to be repaired, only to broke them again and again.

It was cruel of him to make you weak at the knees by smiling so beautifully.

How could you look away when he was the object of your affection? Even if it meant breaking your heart into a million pieces at the sight of him, giving all his attention to someone he had only met a few minutes before.

Counting minutes had never made you feel pathetic before. But here you were, waiting for him to finally realize how broken you were.

It was not rocket science to understand that Yoongi wanted you to suffer. In fact, he wanted you to suffocate in your own despair.

After all, it was the price you paid for choosing your best friend over him, you should have known better. There was no better way to give you a taste of your own medicine.

But what once started as a game between the two of you became something that was killing you inside. You had to put an end to it before you lost your mind.

You gulped down your drink when you felt you couldn't stand the sight before you. The alcohol coursing through your veins made you feel tipsy enough to care about the consequences, which helped you gather your courage before making your way to him.

"I need you-" You wrapped your hand around his wrist, causing him to turn his head away from the conversation as if your touch had burned his skin. "Can I borrow you for a second?"

He looked you in the eye as if looking for any sign that you were actually talking to him. Contrary to the worst scenarios you'd imagined in your head, he made no attempt to protest. Instead, he followed you with your hand around his wrist, as if someone had put a spell on him.

You dragged him into the bedroom at the end of the hall before locking the door behind you. Yoongi stood with his hands crossed on his broad chest, as if waiting for your explanation, when you finally found the courage to look into his eyes.

"What do you need me for?" The loud noises from below were enough to fill the silence you shared, but he whispered as if trying to tell you a secret in a crowded room.

You bit back a whimper as he looked intently into your eyes. "I can't bear to see you with someone else." Yoongi tilted his head with a slight smirk on his face. He made you step back as he made his way towards you until you were trapped between the door and his firm body.

You didn't realize you were crying until his thumb traced a path across your cheek, stained with the mascara ruined by your tears. His eyes never left yours as he sucked his thumb, as if your tears were as delicious as the declaration of your undying love for him.

"You just have to be a fucking crybaby to get what you want, don't you?" Your heart was ready to burst from its cage as he nudged your legs with his knee. His minty breath lingered on your lips as his gaze darkened on your face with an expression your dizzy brain couldn't fathom.

"How did it feel to be faithful to your boyfriend while thinking of me between your legs?" He whispered above your ear before a hard slap on your thigh made your breath catch in your throat.

"You can't blame me for giving Hoseok a chance. After all, you made it seem so easy to forget me." It was getting harder and harder for you not to cry your eyes out with every word he said to you. Even though you wanted to silence him by kissing his soft lips, all you could do was look at him with eyes filled with pain. "You don't know how much it broke my heart to see you holding hands with lover after lover, each one claiming to be the love of your life. I thought I could forget you as easily as you did."

It was true that life was easier when you were tangled up in your sheets. His embrace was the only thing that kept the nightmares away on those nights when you couldn't sleep. Ironically, he was now the one trying to make your life a living nightmare.

You were perfectly fine with it until you realized that you were developing feelings for Yoongi, which made you distance yourself from him. It was also true that your stubbornness got you both into so much trouble. The possibility of being rejected by him scared you more than losing him. In the end, the two of you parted ways without a second thought.

You didn't realize you needed Yoongi in your life until you lost him.

His slender fingers brushed your hair from your face as his gaze softened with a spark of adoration. At that moment, he didn't really need to tell you how much you meant to him, for you could already read his eyes like an open book.

"You shouldn't have run to my best friend in the first place. Now everyone will say I stabbed my best friend in the back."

"We've already broken up, for your information." He giggled as you wrinkled your nose in frustration. His eyes trailed down your face as if studying it, and you felt blood rush to your cheeks as he pecked you on the nose. "That doesn't make us saints either, silly."

He grabbed your waist with his veiny hands and nuzzled your cheek affectionately. You finally took the initiative and tangled your fingers behind his neck. Having him close to you after such a long time made you want to hold him tighter.

You mentally thanked the alcohol for melting your cool exterior, which had made you hide your emotions from him all this time.

"Baby, all I could think about was you. I thought I would go crazy without you." His fingers brushed gently over your thighs, you couldn't stop moaning under his touch. His breath lingered hotly on your neck as his kisses exchanged subtle licks on your skin. "Please let me make love to you. I've missed you so much."

"On one condition," you put your hand playfully on his chest. "I don't want you to see any other girls." He grinned wickedly, his amused expression showed how much he enjoyed making you jealous.

Without warning, he wrapped your legs around his waist, making you squeal as if you didn't expect him to carry you as light as a feather. You instinctively clung to him as if your life depended on it as he carried you to bed. "Then you must stay away from my friends, princess."

"You have to convince me that you will not ignore me as well." He fell onto the bed, his body on top of yours. You were a mess, giggling as he nibbled at his lower lip with hooded eyes. His beautiful features, lit by the moonlight, made your heart ache even in the heat of the moment. He whispered as if in pain. "Because I can't let you go after getting so close to you."

He pressed his rough hand to your stomach to stop your hips trying to meet his crotch, while his other hand slid your panties off your legs. Desperate for some friction between your legs, you let out a moan as he unbuckled his belt.

"I didn't know you wanted me to fuck you so badly." You wondered how strong it was as he positioned you on your stomach like you were nothing but a ragdoll. "Didn't your boyfriend fuck you well enough? Is that because why you missed me so much?" You were naked as he removed his clothes. Your cheek pressed against the mattress, you waited in anticipation as he placed a pillow under your stomach to lift your hips slightly. "My beautiful baby, I'm going to make you feel so good."

You shivered as he teased your wet folds with the head of his cock. You found it increasingly difficult to breathe as you felt his skin brush against yours. The only thing keeping him from collapsing on top of you was his strong arms encircling your body.

"Fuck-" He whimpered at the feeling of your heavenly walls sucking him in. His chest was pressed against your back as his breathing accelerated with each thrust. "I wanted to hate you for every single day you kept this pussy from me."

"It was your fault, Yoongi-" You let out a sob as he planted wet kisses on your neck. He encircled your legs with his, his hips slamming against your ass with rhythmic thrusts. "I wasn't the one chasing girls."

He clung to your sides as he chased his high, as if he couldn't get enough of you. Your moans and whimpers coming out of your mouth were like a song to his ears, making him want to get down on his knees and worship you until the end of time.

"Don't worry about that, angel. I have no intention of letting you go this time." His words sent shivers down your spine, even as your body melted under the heat radiating from his body. "I just want you to know that no matter what happens to us, I can't stop loving you. It's like you're stuck on me like a tattoo."

You couldn't hold yourself back from cumming when he finally declared his devotion to you. It was sweeter than any dessert, one taste of it was enough to make you feel like the only girl in the world. Your sweet moans and clenching around him made him cum right after you.

As he enjoyed the sensation of his cock nestling inside you, he nuzzled his nose against your neck. Inhaling the sweet body wash that lingered on your skin, he sighed with pleasure. He was sure that nothing could ever compare to having you underneath him, fucking his cum into you like he had all the time in the world.

He tucked your exhausted body under the sheets before taking his place right behind you. He rested his cheek on his hand as he took a moment to admire your beauty. Even though you were cuddling on a bed that was not yours, you felt strangely safe in his arms. You brought your hand to play with his hair, slightly damp from his sweat. "I want you to be mine, Yoongi. Your love has never been enough. I'm done playing games." Your heart pounded in its cage, making the loud music from downstairs sound like nothing more than a hum in your ears. He looked at you with a beautiful smile on his face as he took your hand and intertwined your fingers with his. "I'm yours, kitten, as long as you have me."

[velvetvexations]

you’ll see a trans boy be like “i dont personally have the power to oppress you” and then later the same day 3 of their little trans boy friends will start calling you out for making the first trans boy cry so hard he almost died (by disagreeing with him) and then all the cis women in the space will instantly side with the fragile little boys against the scary big [t-slur] who uses intimidating words like “transmisogyny” and thats how the whisper network against you starts, leading to far reaching professional and social consequences that never leave you

This didn’t happen.

Not this way, at least. All marginalized people are at all times at risk of being canceled unfairly. Their marginalization tends to play a major part in that, obviously. Trans women get hit with it a lot and that fucking sucks, and some transmascs are in TERF-y circles and can theoretically use that against transfems should they feel the need to.

This that I’m quoting, however, is a fantasy. It’s a page from a dream journal. People are giddily imagining things like this happening because they live in a world where trans women are feared and have their reputations ruined by lies, and they want to exploit that for their own benefit. The best way of doing this is putting themselves above other trans people, because cis people don’t give enough of a fuck to care or get involved with these bullshit arguments, but if you whine about other marganalized people they will actually be affected by it and forced into the conversation you created out of thin air. It’s not so much a victimization complex as it is a death cult fascination with the misery of transfemininity identical to the TERF obsession with fymyl suffering, defining ‘trans woman’ as 'the thing that feels pain always and forever.’

It’s disgusting and I can’t imagine identifying with such a sniveling and pathetic vision of what being a trans woman is like. It’s so undignified it makes my skin crawl. It’s embarrassing. There’s nothing in this crying little effigy covered in pins and needles I can relate to. I can’t tell if these people need more self-esteem or less. I’m so fucking tired of this wounded gazelle shit.

But for the TRF, transfemininity is all about the abuse. Just look at the beyond absurd assertion, made over and over again, that trans women are maliciously called the t-slur by other trans people. That’s just. No? No. But in claiming that the t-slur can only ever refer to trans women, and that transfeminine suffering takes priority above all else because everyone forever at all times hates trans women more than anyone else, it again becomes necessary to construct this false vision of intercommunity dynamics where “scary big t-slur” is a stereotype that exists within the community in the first place, and which trans men are constantly using against trans women.

It’s just so blatantly selfish for one to act like a transfeminist when all one does every single day is bitch about other trans people. We’re all about to get fucked harder than ever and there are people who profess to sincerely believe they’re fighting the revolution by making up lies about their siblings. I’m easily triggered by transphobia outside of the community and yet even I manage to engage with actual transphobes and make them considerably less transphobic, yet people who don’t even know enough about what TERFs believe to understand they hate men too will fritter the day away on how they could theoretically be canceled if they did something bad ,and wouldn’t that be the worst thing ever? Oh, what if I broke up with someone and our mutual friends believed I was the jerk, because that’s a situation that exclusively happens to poor helpwess twans women and the mere suggestion I could possibly be a jerk in the first place is unthinkable? Hate to keep saying this, but trans women are being actually murdered and this obsessive fixation on “social murder” within the trans community exists purely to spice things up with a feeling of danger because the spaces we’ve managed to carve out for ourselves are otherwise a little too safe and it feels more authentic to the Laura Palmer Ultimate Victim narrative. Massively popular transfems with over ten thousand followers will happily sic them on people for the most upsettingly asinine reasons and then cry-type about how they’re the underdogs in every possible social situation.

But most obnoxious of all is the implication here that, because this can only happen to trans women, gossip and slander does not happen to other trans people, or other marginalized people in general.

That’s fucked, considering how much this discourse has attacked specific targets. It’s most maddening to see that “the coiner of the word transandrophobia has dykebreaking+detransitioning-of-transfems kink” has evolved to “most people who believe in transandrophobia have those kinks” because I constantly see TERFs making huge compilations of transfem blogs engaging in cis dykebreaking kink from the dom perspective. Just transfem dom blog after transfem dom blog enthusiastically into cis dykebreaking, which TERFs use to paint us in a way that fits their narrative.

Literally the only example they can ever give of a transandrophobia-connected person* being a dom for dykebreaking with transfem subs is someone who was being paid by a transfem. Detrans kink is overwhelmingly non-transfems, but almost exclusively as subs to either transfems or cis men, and those transfems aren’t getting paid for it, they actually are just in it for the love of the game. There’s nothing wrong with that, but people want to act like there is when it’s anyone else, and that’s not only weird but also setting up a bear trap to step in later.

Which gets to the point that, hey, wow, I’ve noticed a lot of cis women in particular who self-identify as TME are super into anti-shipping. You cannot possibly imagine you’re safe for trans women if your big issue with trans men articulating their oppression is ��they masturbate evilly.” Popular transfem blogs will talk at length about how you shouldn’t judge transfems for their kinks but cis women are so eager to kinkshame transmascs that they not only make shit up out of thin air, but specifically copy and paste kinks almost entirely made up of transfems onto transmascs. Someday very soon a TERF is going to show them it’s much more convenient to be a general transphobe and not make special exceptions for the ones that use the same pronouns as you. They’re going to show your anti-ship cis lesbian friend one of those transfem dykebreaking blog compilations and she’ll take Trans Rights Are Human Rights out of her bio within the hour.

Like, even if you didn’t care about being monstrously inhumane to others, all of this is so against transfem self-interests in the long run, but people who consider themselves the most transfeminist transfeminists there are, of a radical nature, one might say, care more about notes than helping anyone, least of all the transfems they’re feeding into a grinder of paranoia and isolation. Especially the isolation.

It’s a little hard to take it seriously when I get accused of calling all trans women groomers for thinking it’s bad when people talk about “curing” other trans women’s “comphet,” how “TMEs” are obligated to bottom for them to compensate for transmisogyny, and writing long treatises on why it’s one’s moral responsibility to throw forcefem kink at random men because they may like it. Like, am I saying trans women are groomers, or am I saying some people use being members of a marginalized community to be kinna gross? People somehow find it in them to be angry at gay men who cross boundaries in spite of the messaging that they’re all sex abusers for the past two hundred years. Especially since 90% of the concern is for other trans women.Like, sorry, but I care enough about trans women that I’m going to say something if I think you’re putting them in a bad situation, and someone being a trans woman doesn’t make them immune to that. But oh, it does if you assume that this is all just common sense transfeminism, and I am in fact making this accusation of most trans women instead of an extremely niche group.

Never mind that in the screencap people use to accuse me of calling trans women “rapists” I was saying something a self-identified TME said was coercive, and whose identity as a Not a Trans Woman I explicitly noted.** Never mind that I’m the not the one telling people to name their blogs after the original transbian separatist group that famously fell apart after resulting in heavy sexual abuse. Never mind that I have said over and over again that TRFs act no more entitled to people’s bodies than lesbian TERFs who treat people they perceive as women the same way.

But I’m supposed to believe that those cis anti-shippers who post things like “every time someone says kinks are fine they’re just protecting predators in the LGBT community” is a great ally and I’m a traitor because they hate men and I don’t?

Sorry, no, not a traitor. A “pickme begging to be beaten to death with hammers.” Who’s probably not even actually a trans woman. Great transfeminism, yall. You’re really fighting transmisogyny.

It’s especially galling now that TRFs have taken to calling transandrophobia “reactionary,” the most bullshit possible way to call a group that includes a huge number of PoC, who they constantly accuse of tokenization, a pack of Nazis. What is transandrophobia reacting to? Bigotry? Golly gee, I guess so! Or maybe it’s “reacting” to transmisogyny as part of the completely absurd idea that trasnmascs steal everything from transfems. Like, yeah, sure girliepop, and we stole misogyny from cis women, right? Sorry you failed to not sound exactly like a TERF yet again but maybe try again tomorrow and you’ll finally earn not being called a radfem.

But isn’t it sooooo mean of me to compare a small amount of trans women to radfems? Like their oppressors? Well, first of all, they regularly refer to Jewish people as Nazis, discourse aside that they do that is simply a true fact which shows they indeed think it’s possible to justify comparisons like that, although in their case it’s just because it feels like getting off a sick burn and rhetorical W to go “ah, but what if this Jewish person…was a Nazi? Checkmate, Zionists.”

Secondly, for as much as TRFs want to claim TERFs only hate them, that’s simply not true and I have conclusively proven this with basic use of Tumblr’s search function and the tag “radblr.” Twice. If you believe they love transmascs and only want what’s best for them, congratulations dipshit, you fell for their propaganda so hard I’m surprised they haven’t managed to convince you you’re not a woman. Or is it only an obvious lie when it’s about you?

Most annoyingly, just on a personal level, is the way TRFs get pissed off at non-transfem feminine AMAB people for daring to exist. The idea that femboy is a slur for trans women would be laughable if it weren’t grotesque in it’s ignorance. The things I’ve read people say about how transmisogynistic it is for an anime character to be a crossdressing man instead of a trans woman are just infuriatingly racist. Not everything is about you and it’s not actually a big deal if people talk about others once in blue moon.

The constant posts about how non-transfems are evil for not making more transfem headcanons, or for headcanoning the TRF’s favorite canonically male character wrong, are particularly childish. I can’t even go into MY favorite blorbo’s tag without seeing people call transmasc headcanons of him inferior literary analysis completely without irony, and every single time they shit like this, they do it while making up the most convoluted and nonsensical explanations for why the character can only be transfem instead, as though the hostility is defensiveness born out of their particular blorbo requiring a lot of creativity to headcanon that way, necessitating going to war to prove they can’t really be a man to assert it as The One Truth. Then they’ll complain until the fucking heat death of the universe about how everyone loves transmasc headcanons because of transmisogyny.

It’s the same unbearable on-sight hostility as when a TERF sees a child on the subway and goes home to type up a novel of a post on how he had the eyes of a future wife-beater, and it’s so irritating to see it spread from one corner to another. Literally, TRFs say that trans men will always turn on trans women and eventually detransition to wield their wymbnly power against us, and I’m expected to not see that as having severe hang-ups about people born into what they want to transition into and have denied to them by society’s transphobia?

What about the fact that they constantly mock AFAB trans people in ways specifically targeting that trait, calling non-binary people “theyfabs,” joking it’s easy to misgender trans men when they have large breasts, and reduce transmasc stereotypes to feminine “soft bois?” Like, yeah, okay, you’re not projecting any gaping insecurities you may have about assigned sex and gender roles when you say transmasc music is ukuleles and transfem music is heavy metal, next tell me about how transmascs all enjoy tea parties and transfems all go to football games.

But it’s not even mostly trans women who keep this shit alive in the first place. A higher percentage of total trans women on this site are into this framework, but the total number of non-transfem trans people and cis women so outweighs them in the first place that it cancels that out. Like, if x is higher than y, and x% of trans women on Tumblr agree but only y% of “TME” people do, that’s still a movement mostly consisting of “TME” people. The full separatist angle would very quickly reveal how little air it has to burn if trans women truly only had themselves to watch out for each other. Unfortunately, self-identified TMEs are much more likely to get TERFier rather than simply less TRF-y when the spell breaks and they realize how fucked up this shit is, while the people who’ve been batted at continue to exercise the patience of a saint and continue to fight for trans women anyway.

And that! Is what hurts! The most! The fact that people do not care about transmascs and in particular the ones who believe in transandrophobia are constantly tripping over themselves to defend and help trans women as much as they possibly can. I wish people saw that. I wish that mattered. It’s like watching a black hole suck up an endless font of goodwill and love. And then going “lol reactionary transandrobros hate trans women.”

That’s it, though, the great irony of it all is that if it were true, it’d never have become popular in the first place. It’s kept aloft by self-identified TMEs who are well-meaning if not especially good at critical thinking, except for the the contingent that are convinced trans men are all misogynistic because they personally are, or even outright seem to get gender euphoria from the idea they have male privilege. But for whatever reason, if “TME” folks didn’t care? The people making up elaborate tales of their potential (social) murder would have to find some other way to get attention.

I suggest throwing on a big red nose and joining a circus.

*and I specify “transandrophobia-connected” but you’d have a hard time rustling up transmasc doms in general from those scenes

**also, despite it being something I saw with my own eyes, I notably did not even feel it hit the level of needing to directly name someone as being who I was basing my assessment of sexual coercive behavior on as being sexually coercive, because I think it's much more a prevalent attitude of pressure in sexual contexts than individual behavior

[bookwormjust]

Imagine: Azriel’s Anger and Tender Care

The townhouse was quiet, the sun setting behind the mountains of Velaris, casting the city in a warm, golden glow. You lay curled up in your bed, the sheets tangled around you as another wave of pain rippled through your lower abdomen. The blood cycle for a fae was no small inconvenience; it was a brutal, relentless agony that left you feeling drained and raw. You had spent the past few days in and out of restless sleep, trying to endure the pain without letting it spill into the bond you shared with Azriel.

You knew he was away on a mission—one that required his full attention and skill. The last thing you wanted was to distract him with the visceral suffering of your cycle. So, you buried the pain deep, locking it behind a wall within your mind, hoping to shield him from the worst of it. You had become adept at masking your side of the bond, keeping the aches and discomfort at bay whenever he tried to reach out. You didn't want him worrying when he had bigger things to focus on.

But as the days dragged on, your strength waned. The pain was a constant companion, sharp and unyielding, and no amount of hot water bottles or herbal teas could ease the discomfort that wracked your body. You hadn’t left the house, save for a quick trip to the kitchen to grab some bread and fruit when you could muster the energy. Your wings ached, heavy and stiff from lack of movement, and every breath felt like a test of endurance.

You were so lost in the haze of your pain that you didn’t hear Azriel return. The sound of the door opening was muffled, your senses dulled by exhaustion. But the moment he stepped into the house, you felt his presence, a comforting warmth brushing against your mind. He was back—safe, sound, and home.

Azriel’s footsteps were quiet as he made his way through the townhouse, but you could feel the tension in him, the way his shadows flitted restlessly around him as if sensing something amiss. He paused at the doorway to your room, his silhouette framed by the soft light spilling in from the hallway.

“Y/N?” he called softly, his voice tinged with concern as he took in the sight of you curled up on the bed, your face pale and drawn.

You tried to sit up, forcing a smile despite the pain that rippled through your abdomen. “Azriel, you’re home,” you said, your voice strained but grateful. You tried to mask the discomfort, but even you could hear the faint quiver in your tone.

Azriel stepped closer, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took in the scene before him—the uneaten food on the bedside table, the way you were clutching your stomach, the fatigue etched into every line of your face. His shadows darted around you, their touch cool and soothing as they brushed against your skin, sensing the pain you were trying so desperately to hide.

“You’ve been like this the whole time?” he asked, his voice low and tightly controlled, though you could hear the simmering anger beneath his calm exterior.

You nodded reluctantly, biting your lip. “It’s just my cycle,” you admitted softly. “It’s been… rough this time, but I didn’t want to bother you. You had the mission, and I—”

Azriel’s jaw clenched, his wings shifting slightly in a way that betrayed his frustration. “You didn’t want to bother me?” he repeated, his voice rising just enough to show the edge of his anger. “You’ve been in pain for days, and you didn’t let me know?”

“I didn’t want to distract you,” you tried to explain, reaching out to take his hand. “I knew you’d worry, and you needed to focus—”

“I always worry about you,” he cut in, his tone fierce and unyielding. His hands, usually so gentle, gripped yours tightly, the tension in his fingers a stark contrast to the careful way he usually held you. “I can’t stand the thought of you suffering alone. I should have been here.”

You winced, the guilt of hiding your pain from him twisting in your chest. “I’m sorry, Azriel,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “I just… didn’t want you to see me like this.”

Azriel’s expression softened at your words, but the anger still simmered just beneath the surface, a dark fire that refused to be extinguished. “You don’t have to hide from me,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “Not ever. I want to be here for you, especially when you’re hurting.”

He let go of your hand and gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the stray tears that had slipped down your cheeks. His shadows coiled around you both, a protective barrier that seemed to shield you from the world outside.

“You should have told me,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he pulled you into his arms. “I hate not being here for you.”

You nestled against his chest, letting the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart soothe the pain that still lingered. “I know,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

Azriel’s wings wrapped around you, cocooning you in a soft, protective embrace. You could feel the tension slowly ebbing from his body, the anger giving way to a deep, abiding concern. He held you close, his hands rubbing gentle circles on your back, easing the ache that had settled into your muscles.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured, his voice softening into a tender plea. “I’ll get you anything you need—food, water, whatever will make you feel better. Just… let me be here.”

You nodded, feeling the tears prick at your eyes again, but this time they were tears of relief. Relief that he was here, that he wasn’t angry with you but angry at the situation—at the pain you had endured without him. “I just need you,” you admitted softly. “Just you.”

Azriel’s hold tightened, his wings wrapping more securely around you as if to shield you from the very world itself. “You have me,” he promised, his voice fierce and unwavering. “Always.”

He spent the rest of the evening tending to you with the utmost care, bringing you warm broth and helping you drink, adjusting the pillows behind your back to make you more comfortable. His hands were gentle as he massaged the tense muscles of your abdomen, his touch radiating a soothing warmth that eased the worst of the cramps.

Every now and then, his shadows would flit over to check on you, as if sharing in Azriel’s need to make sure you were okay. They whispered against your skin, their cool touch a comforting contrast to the heat of your fevered body.

Azriel stayed with you through the night, refusing to leave your side even for a moment. When the pain flared up, he was there, his soothing words and gentle touch providing a balm that no medicine could match. He held you close, his wings cocooning you both in a protective shield, and for the first time in days, you felt truly safe and comforted.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner,” Azriel whispered as you drifted off to sleep, his voice heavy with regret. “But I’m here now. And I won’t let you go through this alone again.”

As you fell asleep in his arms, wrapped in the warmth of his wings and the steady comfort of his presence, you knew that you would never have to hide your pain from him again. Azriel was more than just your mate—he was your protector, your comfort, and your safe haven. And with him by your side, you knew you could endure anything.

[stayteezdreams]

Scenarios: Whump {Ateez x Gn!Reader}

Scenarios: Whump; how they would take care of you and react to you taking care of them.

Pairings: Kim Hongjoong x Reader; Jeong Yunho x Reader; Choi San x Reader & Song Mingi x Reader (All Gn!Readers)

Requested By Two Different Anons (during Milestone Event)

Warnings: Mentions of illness/sickness, injuries, general whump stuff.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for waiting patiently for me to get back into finishing the requests I got for the milestone event. <3 If anyone wants the other 4 members for this let me know!

Words: ~1.2k

Kim Hongjoong:

When Hongjoong is sick or hurt, he doesn't tell you how bad it is so you don't worry.

But you find out anyways (usually after interrogating Seonghwa)

Hongjoong likes to take care of you, and doesn't want you to worry too much over him.

But you don't listen to him.

When he hurt his knee during dance practice, though it wasn't serious, you still offered to help him.

You got him things around the dorm.

Reminded him to take his pain killers, massaged him, ran him a hot bath, etc.

Though he felt bad about you taking the time to help him, he really did adore the way you took care of him.

He always returns the favor in kind, when you get sick or hurt.

Though you tend to take care of him with gentle softness, he is a bit more forceful (in a loving way).

"Don't you dare try and get that yourself."

"If I come back and you aren't still in bed you wont get any food."

"Take your medicine or I am leaving."

It's never really mean, and always has a tinge of humor to it, and you know it's cause he hates that you are hurt/sick.

The worst thing he can imagine is you being hurt, so he tries his best to make you better faster, or to distract you so you aren't suffering.

He is also very very sweet when you are sick or hurt.

Cuddles just for you, gentle massages or fingers through your hair.

Bubble baths, kisses, etc. Anything he knows would made you feel better.

Jeong Yunho:

Yunho adores how you hover over him when he is sick or hurt.

He watches you with an adoring smile as you carefully read the directions and warnings of his medication and barely listens as you explain it to him.

He is so distracted by how cute he thinks you are that he forgets he is sick or hurt in the first place.

TOTALLY uses it against you.

"What do you mean you're leaving? " I just need to go get some things from the store." "What am I supposed to do then?" "I'll only be twenty minutes you'll be fine."

Hits you with the 🥺🥺🥺 and you can't help but give in.

Takes full advantage of having you around, cuddles that he refuses to end, hot baths he insists you have to share with him.

Everything you do for him when he is hurt/sick will be returned in kind.

You get a cold?

He buys every medicine he can find, twenty types of tea, cute stuffed animals, soups, etc..

He is checking your temperature, brining you cold rags to wipe your head. And the whole time he has a pout on his face.

Because he can't stand you being upset or sick.

Wishes he could trade places with you.

Doesn't care of he gets sick from cuddling with you.

"Then we will be sick together."

If you are hurt, ooohh booyyyy, pout x100.

Doesn't let you do anything.

You could hurt your wrist and he won't let you walk around.

"It could get worse!" "My wrist?" "Yes!"

You both hate when the other is suffering, but love the domesticity of taking care of one another.

Choi San:

Similar to Yunho, San loves how much you care for him when he is sick or injured.

Acts like a baby if you aren't giving him enough attention.

Steals kisses anytime you are close.

"You're gonna get me sick!""

"Then it will be my turn to take care of you."

If you are gone for too long he will text you with dramatic ass texts.

"I think I'm dying." "Why?" "My chest hurts." "WHAT?" "Because you aren't here." "Boy I swear to GOD."

Sweet smile the whole time you are taking care of him, even if he is miserable he feels like he is in heaven.

Changes your contact name to Cute Nurse. Does not change it back once he get's better.

When he finds out he did end up getting you sick, he actually feels really bad. But does as he says, and takes care of you this time.

Changes his name in your phone to Doctor Sexy, does not want you to change it back.

If either of you are hurt from an injury, taking care of each other becomes routine.

San will drag out his injury, pretending it's worse than it is just so you stay.

And as an excuse to get more shared baths out of you.

You of course see right through him.

However, if you are injured, he is so afraid to hurt you he barely comes near you.

"San, it's fine I promise." "But what if I hurt you?" "Then be gentle. I promise cuddling with me will not make my concussion worse."

Super delicate and caring with you when you are hurt.

Will fight the other's if they try to mess with you.

Makes you promise not to get hurt again.

Song Mingi:

Mingi says he doesn't want you wasting your time looking after him.

But you know he secretly loves you being around more often when he is sick/hurt.

You can tell by the soft smile on his face as he is watching you fuss after him.

Showers you with compliments because he adores you.

"You're so cute." "You'd make a great nurse/doctor." "But I don't want you taking care of anyone else." "Maybe I should by you a uniform"

Tries not to abuse the power he as over you when he is hurt/sick, but does use it as an excuse to make you stay with him.

"What if I wake up in the middle of the night and need help?" "Then I guess I'll have to stay." "I guess you will."

You are really good at consoling him when he is injured and misses out on some band activities.

You distract him with games, and keep him occupied. And he loves you so much for it.

Such a baby when it comes to you being hurt or sick.

Pouting constantly, wants to wrap you up and keep you safe from the world. Because how DARE you get hurt.

Many, many, gentle kisses to make you (and himself) feel better.

When you are sick he is not sure what to do or how to take care of you, but bless him he is trying his best.

"Here's your medicine." "Why is it so hot?" "I thought you were supposed to warm it up?" "Its cough medicine not tea."

But when you accidentally roll your ankle when on a jog, he knows exactly how to take care of you.

Is a bit over the top about it though.

And by that I mean he will carry you literally everywhere.

Need to go get water? He wont bring it to you, but he will carry you bridal style to the fridge so you can get it yourself.

He thinks it funny. You think it's ridiculous, but in a very cute way.

xx End xx

🌼 Taglist Form 🌼

Taglists:

General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669,

@tinyelfperson, @pinievsev, @teenyfinds, @everythingboutkpop,  @shymexican,

@stillwjk-channie-lixie, @luckypaintertyphoon <wont tag

Ateez Taglist: @soso59love-blog, @hongjoongsprincess, @tunaasan, @thedistractedwriter, @dear-dreamie,

@thunderous-wolf, @briqnne, @hyukssunflower, @dinossaurz, @skz1-4-3,

@staytiny2000, @demonlineslut, @vnessalau,  @dancinglikebutterflywings, @tunafishyfishylike

Mingi Taglist: @ye0nvibezzn

[natureboy96]

Rhysand is Tamlin's abuser

I've been enjoying crackshipping and fun posts for the past few months, it's far more pleasant to interact within fandom this way I've found, but this thought came to me last night and it won't leave my head, so I simply have to go for another rant/long post about it.

The discussion about what happens Under the mountain is largely focused on what happens to Feyre, which is understandable as she's the POV character; the problem is, what happens there isn't about Feyre at all. Everything UtM is designed to break Tamlin, especially torturing Feyre. And Rhysand is a large part of that.

While Rhysand is sexually assaulting Feyre, he's also psychologically torturing Tamlin. Can you imagine how horrible it would be, being forced watch and witness this fragile human you've come to love, being turned into a sexual prop and toy, forced to dance and drink and vomit and dance again, every night for months on end, knowing that the slightest twitch could end up killing someone you care about, or hurting Feyre even worse? I wouldn't put it past Amarantha to leave Feyre with a few less limbs if Tamlin grimaced.

And the thing is, Rhysand not only knows that he's hurting Tamlin, but that he's doing it intentionally. He explains fully that he wants to protect Feyre, yes, but also that he wanted to make Tamlin suffer, to make him feel hate and pain. All those horrors that Rhysand drugs Feyre, so she doesn't have to witness it and be scarred by it? Tamlin has no choice but to look, and not react, and Rhysand knows it. Tamlin doesn't know anything about Rhysand's "evil mask" during and after UtM and only sees him for how he presented himself; a sexual predator who worked as hard as Amarantha did to break him, and continued to trigger his trauma after they were free.

But Rhysand has a grudge for what Tamlin did to his family, yeah? A grudge he's been holding on to for at most over four centuries (due to the lack of dates and timelines, the only clues we get for when things went down between their families was that it was after the war 500 years ago, and a few years after Tamlin "matures" as Rhys says it, which could be as early as Tam being 18 or 19) And that he doesn't know all the details about! a grudge he's had centuries to try and find out the truth about, but that he's chosen to assume the worst about Tamlin instead, and that ended with Tamlin's family dead in retaliation.

Rhysand being angry for what happened to his family (after getting revenge in retaliation) does not justify months of psychological torture.

And then in ACOMAF, instead of taking any accountability for the pain he caused either of them, he at most justifies how he treated Feyre, and entirely ignores the pain he caused Tamlin. Worse yet, he goes on to villainize Tamlin for dealing poorly with his PTSD, trauma that he had a direct hand in causing, and actively antagonizes him further to make it worse!

Tamlin should be held accountable for the pain he caused Feyre, and I would argue he pays for it well more than his actions warrant. Rhysand never takes or is held accountable for any of the pain he causes, not to Tamlin or Feyre (and later not to Nesta either). Beyond feeling bad in a monologue or again justifying his actions when confronted by the High Lords, he never has to answer for the harm he's caused and its handwaved away almost immediately on being addressed.

Rhysand and Tamlin hurt each others' families, Rhysand abuses Tamlin, who later abuses Feyre, who later abuses Tamlin back, and then the Night Court abuses Nesta, after she abused Feyre when they were poor and starving. It's just a cycle of abuse, but only some characters ever pay any actual, tangible price for it.

All of this is to say, I have found myself having far more sympathy for Tamlin reacting poorly to his PTSD than the person who gave it to him with psychological torture and then villainized him for it.

[mareastrorum]

I love villains, and I especially enjoy Brennan Lee Mulligan’s take on them. His version of Asmodeus in EXU Calamity and Downfall really highlights the reasons why.

A villain is the embodiment of the wrong conclusion. They aren’t always an antagonist; they aren’t necessarily meant to obstruct the protagonist of a story. Hell, they might even be helpful. Villains don’t even have to be evil, per se, they just have to be on the wrong path in the context of the story.

Asmodeus is a brilliant villain and as evil as it gets. He’s the Father of Lies, and he indulges in it deliciously. The lies are always half truths so that the protagonist fills in the blanks with assumptions and gets it wrong. He matches their energy to give them what they want to hear. He plays along with naivety and hope. He doesn’t take anything from people other than lives; they give the rest willingly because they want to believe him. Asmodeus finally reveals his deception when he has someone cornered because he wants them to know they did it to themselves. Asmodeus wants everyone he hurt to come to the realization that “I knew better and let this happen anyway.” He did it to Vespin Chloras, Zerxus Ilerez, and Sarenrae.

From EXU Calamity episode 4, after Zerxus realizes he’s been had:

Asmodeus is the embodiment of the desire to punish, and he’s the villain because he’s wrong. That mentality is rooted in hatred. He is convinced that everyone deserves eternal torment, and he wants everyone to agree with that conclusion.

The purpose of Asmodeus is that we shouldn’t inflict punishment based on some idea that the person deserved it. Yes, revenge and victory feel good. Yes, there are often valid reasons to be angry or defensive. Yes, we can come up with a reason to justify punishment. But hurting people because they deserve it is exactly what Asmodeus does. There is always a way to rationalize that someone deserves punishment—so the right answer is that this feeling cannot be a sufficient reason to do harm. That isn’t good enough.

It’s so easy to say “they deserve it” when we know the end result is that Aeor will be destroyed and the surviving legacy is ruins full of monsters. It feels good when we think people deserve to suffer and then we get to see it happen. It feels righteous.

Vespin Chloras deserved to be remembered as a traitor because he was arrogant enough to think he could replace Asmodeus—in an age where another mage already replaced the god of death and yet another mage created a machine that killed two primordials. Zerxus Ilerez deserved to be a thrall of Asmodeus because he chose to take up the mace and contributed to the problems that got him in that dilemma—because he so fervently believed that under all that hatred was a person who needed a chance to change his mind. Sarenrae deserved to lose her followers because she decided to trust the Father of Lies—because she loved her brother and offered him mercy.

It’s so easy to conclude that someone deserves pain. Asmodeus is here to remind us specifically that it’s not the right way to handle anything.

Asmodeus is also a rather effective villain because he is supposed to be irredeemable. Archetypal villains are wonderful tools for setting audience expectations. Whether Brennan plays that straight or decides to subvert it, there isn’t as much work needed to persuade us that Asmodeus is that evil or cruel. We already believe that he’s capable of doing the worst things imaginable. Toying with those expectations is a great storytelling exercise.

Asmodeus didn’t shock us in EXU Calamity because we didn’t expect him to be evil. He was shocking because he is such a skillful liar that we wanted to believe him. It would be such a satisfying story that a well-meaning paladin was the first person to show kindness to the Father of Lies and managed to atone him. Brennan’s portrayal made us want that subversion so badly even though we knew better. Asmodeus lured us into the same trap as the characters, and then we saw the outcome: punishment—because Asmodeus will use any reason to justify it and every opportunity to inflict it.

In Downfall, Brennan could have easily rationalized that the protagonists wouldn’t agree to the truce if Asmodeus was on the infiltration team. The audience would have absolutely found that plausible. He didn’t have to be here. The decision to include Asmodeus on the side of the protagonists gives us a heads up that the story will grapple with questions about punishment.

What do I need to see before I am justified in destroying a city with no survivors? Do I have to concern myself with bystanders? Do the fearful deserve to die for choosing to oppose me? Don’t they deserve it for creating such objectionable technology and magic? Don’t I deserve the chance to live without fear of those lesser than myself? Don’t they deserve to die for corrupting those I loved? Don’t they deserve it for being loved more than me?

Why isn’t hatred a good enough reason to hurt someone?

Again, villains are tools to highlight the wrong conclusions. Asmodeus is involved to highlight that the desire for punishment isn’t a sufficient reason to destroy Aeor. The other characters, villains or not, are here to show us what other justifications there might be. Their interactions are going to brush across these themes over and over again.

I fucking love villains, and no one plays a villain quite like Brennan does.

[marvelouslizzie]

just let me make you feel better

summary: after a long day of work, you finally come back home and rest. your period is making your day miserable but your boyfriend is here to help you.

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader 

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, period comfort, established relationship, pet names, mentions of menstruation pain, a little bit of period stigma, comfort offering, sexual activity during the period, nipple play, clit play, fingering, after care, obviously blood, unrealistic portrayal of male partners, no mention of y/n.

a/n: I just wanted to write a Bucky Barnes offers to comfort you during your period story so here we are. Unfortunately, this kind of care is really rare so I’m sorry for fucking up your expectations about men. Most of them don’t even do the bare minimum. This concept would shock them but don’t settle for anything less.

Thank you @notafunkiller and @es1dit for beta-reading and helping me better this story. Love you both!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. 

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

God, you can’t wait for this day to be over. It’s not the worst day of your life, you know it, but still, the freaking pain just doesn’t want to go away. At least, not completely. It finds different ways to crawl back to you and keep you suffering.

You tried a lot of stuff, starting with good old painkillers. There’s no denying that the pill is helping you, but it’s just not good enough. Your back is hurting, joints are feeling sore and there’s still a headache on the back of your head that no matter how many painkillers you take, keeps lingering and torturing you. Like bleeding isn’t enough.

Yeah, being on your period and working at the same time is no fun. It’s not even bearable. Still, you make it through the day and come back just to drop on the couch. You really want to get rid of these clothes, take a hot shower and change into something comfortable, but you just don’t have the energy. Mentally, you are already doing all this stuff, imagining how good it would feel to stand under the hot water and just let it relax your muscles. Yet your legs don't want to move. You just lay on the couch like a bag of potatoes.

As you drift between sleep and being awake, you hear the keys jingling, signaling that your boyfriend is home. Is it weird that you can already smell him while he’s standing across the room? You have no idea but you can. It just feels like something…  familiar. You have no idea how it works, but it makes you feel safe even though he did nothing but step into the apartment.

“Darling?” Bucky calls out because he isn’t used to not being greeted by you when he comes home. Usually, you are either going toward him or yelling “Welcome home, baby” from wherever you are.

You can’t find the strength to call out so you groan a little while raising your hand. God, his expression changes so quickly. He walks towards you at a trot.

“Are you alright?”

“I am.” You are just exhausted, nothing out of the ordinary. Especially not at this time of the month.

“Are you sure? You don’t look alright.”

“It’s that time of the month again.” The worried expression on his face slowly fades away when he notices you are actually alright. It makes you wonder what he thought happened to you, but you don't ask him.

“Oh, darling…” His voice is so caring. Your period completely saps you of your energy and he knows it. He knows how you suffer or what you do to make yourself feel better. “Did you take a painkiller?”

“Yes.” Of course, you did. That was the first thing you thought of.

“When?”

You stop for a second to think. “In the morning and after lunch.”

“So you can take another one now, right?” 

That’s a good question. You can take another pill, but your stomach is already protesting at that thought. You should eat something before taking it, but you don’t feel like cooking. Even the thought is exhausting.

“But first you will need food.” God, is he reading your mind or what?

“I don’t feel like–” Before you can finish your sentence, he’s already standing up and making his way to the kitchen.

“I will prepare something for you.” When your words register, he turns around and looks at you. “You don’t wanna eat anything?”

“No, no. I was going to say I don’t feel like preparing anything.” 

“Oh, that’s fine.” He turns around. “Don’t worry. I will make your favorite.”

You have yet to learn what he means by that because you have many favorites. A meal, sandwich, snack, or dessert? You find out what he means when he comes back with your favorite sandwich, a glass of water, and the painkiller you use only during your period. You love him for paying enough attention to notice that.

“Eat while I draw a bath for you. Warm water should help.”

Why didn’t you think about filling the tub and just sitting there? The thought of laying there for a while sounds so much more appealing than a quick shower. It doesn’t take long for you to finish the whole sandwich and take the pill. Your stomach isn’t protesting anymore, and neither are your taste buds. Still, the pain and that discomfort are there, lingering and making you regret being born. Men don’t have to suffer like this and it’s so unfair! You hate mankind for that privilege. While you are lost in your thoughts, Bucky comes out of the bathroom and you notice: No, you don’t hate the whole of mankind. There’s one exception. You can’t hate Bucky when he’s the most thoughtful person you've ever met.

“The bathtub is ready for you. Did you finish your sandwich?” He kind of sounds like a teacher or a parent, checking if you did everything you were supposed to.

“Yep, all done.” You gesture to the plate. “Took the painkiller, too.”

“Good job, doll.” He comes closer without taking his eyes off of you. “Wanna head to the bathroom now?”

“Yes, but I need to take some clothes with me first.”

“Don’t worry, I will take care of it. Just get in there and relax, okay?”

You just nod with a small smile on your lips. When he takes care of you like this, you feel so lucky and so seen. You never asked him to do any of this stuff for you. Occasionally, you just said “I don’t feel like cooking” thinking you would order take out or you asked for a painkiller, but he registered all that information and started to do things without you asking. Seeing how he paid attention and cared about you just makes you feel valued.

You have no idea how long you have been laying in the bathtub. It was nearly perfect with the bubbles and the scent. You expected him to show up and tell you what to do next, but that did not happen. After a while, you decide to properly clean yourself and drain the bathtub. That’s when you notice he put your towels to warm on the radiator, which instantly makes you smile. You wrap your hair with one and dry your body with the other. Thinking you might bleed around, you quickly leave the bedroom to find your clothes. 

While you are thinking if you should go for a pad or a tampon, you find your missing boyfriend in your bedroom. Your clothes are already chosen and set aside, your favorite pajamas waiting for you.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“A little better. The painkiller started to work its magic.” You walk towards your clothes to put them on as quickly as possible, still thinking about the blood.

Bucky quickly gets in your way. “No need to rush.”

“No, no, I really need to rush.” He gives you a look that makes you think he's confused. “I don’t have a tampon on. I will bleed on the floor.”

“And?” His tone is so carefree, it confuses you.

“And we will have to clean it, Bucky.” You state the obvious.

“Then we will clean it.” He makes things sound so natural, so casual. Like it’s the most normal thing on earth, but you are conditioned to think that you shouldn’t bleed around, that you should take care of any mess you make.

“You don’t wanna see that.”

“Maybe I do.” His answer comes instantly, surprising you.

“Believe me, you don’t.” You make a move in the direction of your clothes, but Bucky doesn’t let you.

“Bucky!” 

“Darling, I have been fighting for god knows how long. Do you think your period blood would disturb me?” His question sounds so genuine, you stop to think for a second. He has a point, but not really. It's a different kind of blood.

“I mean it’s not the same, is it?” 

“Yeah, it’s not.” The confirmation you expect finally comes. “I’m used to seeing blood caused by violence, not by nature.”

Wait, what?

You don’t know how to react to this. Of course, it is natural, but it is also torture and it makes a mess every time. A huge mess. Usually, your exes were disturbed by the idea, keeping a respectful distance while you were on your period, but apparently not Bucky. His fingers were already grazing your skin carefully. He looks into your eyes, asking for permission silently.

“I really don’t feel like it, Bucky.” You hate saying no to him, but the pain is still there. You are sure it will make things uncomfortable.

“I’m just asking for permission to touch you, doll. I’m not asking for anything else.” He keeps confusing you tonight. 

“What do you mean?”

“Just let me make you feel better.” His answer is simple, but not enough for you to understand his meaning. What does he mean by that?

“I think having you there now isn’t a great idea, Buck. I’m in pain and a little bit too sensitive.” You try to explain as simply as possible.

“Darling… There are other ways to make you feel better, or did you forget about those? Maybe I should remind you, huh?” Gosh, the smug smile creeping up his lips… It sends shivers down your spine. “Just lay down.” He gestures to the bed.

“I will blee–”

“Shh…” He doesn’t let you finish. “Just be a good girl and stop thinking too much.”

For fuck's sake… A good girl? He definitely knows how to shut your brain up. You slowly sit down on the bed and notice a big towel under you. He already thought about everything, so you won’t have to worry. So you can just enjoy this. If that’s what he wants, you can do that. You can shut your mind for a short while and try to enjoy yourself. 

As he lies down next to you, he turns his entire body in your direction and props himself up on his elbow. His flesh fingers start to caress your skin very lightly, making their way to the towel you wrapped around your body. 

“It is time to…” His fingers work quickly to undo the towel. “...take this off.”

He sounds somehow impatient. Maybe just to see you naked or hear the sounds you make while he touches you all the ways he knows you love. His fingers move to your nipple, fingertips grazing over carefully. As he touches you so lightly, another wave of goosebumps washes over you. It's not normal for you to be this sensitive, but your nipples are already hard. Your lips tremble as he moves closer and gives one a long lick.

“God, damn it.” You mutter and he instantly looks up.

“Should I stop?” The way he asks the question shows how concerned and focused he is.

“No, no.” You take a deep breath. “Just be gentle. I’m just…”

“Sensitive, I know.” He smiles and dives back in. His tongue swirls around your nipple over and over again until you start to cry out.

“Fuck!” That’s so unexpected. The pleasure you are feeling is foreign. Nipple play never felt like this before. “It feels so– so good.”

He moves his mouth away with a wet pop just to say: “Yes, surrender yourself to the feeling, darling.” Then he goes back to sucking your nipple, while his metal hand is massaging your other breast. It’s such an amazing change after feeling pain for hours and you can’t help but crave more. Your hips are rising unintentionally. Bucky’s flesh hand moves down to your body, sliding between your folds really carefully, but it makes you push your hips up again.

You've never felt this wet in your life. You are sure your period has a lot to do with it, but god… That’s not the only reason. The way he’s paying attention to your breasts, the way his index finger is working between your folds… It feels like magic. His fingers start rubbing on your clit and the next thing you know you're moaning his name over and over again. Whenever you moan, his tongue becomes more relentless around your nipple. The pleasure hits you suddenly, it takes your breath away.

“Buck–” Your back arches like a bow. “Oh my go–”

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even hesitate for a second. His fingers and tongue work you through your orgasm until you start to feel a little sensitive. You let a long breath out, proving how satisfied you feel.

Finally, he lets go of your nipple and looks up. Hair messed up, lips swollen and eyes glossy. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” You breathe out again and it makes him smile widely. So fucking widely… “I feel great.” His hand rests on your pussy while his head is on your upper body. You lean down a little and he meets you in the middle in a messy kiss. God, his lips are the most delicious thing you've ever tasted. They're nearly sweet and just intoxicating.

You sigh loudly, feeling so much better than before. The pain is the last thing on your mind. You actually think about a possible second orgasm already and a little smile creeps up on your lips.

“What?” He asks wondering what you are thinking.

“I think I want a bit more.” 

“Oh, you do?” He is fully smirking now. You just nod while biting one side of your lower lip. “Would it be okay if I put my fingers inside? Would that be comfortable for you?”

“I hope so. We can try and if it’s uncomfortable, I'll tell you.”

“What a good girl you are.”

Before you can say anything in return, his fingers move a little down and he pushes one of them inside.

“Bucky!” The sudden pleasure catches you off guard.

“Sorry, sorry. I will go slow.” He moves himself a little bit up, just to be able to kiss you comfortably. You look at him and excitement is written all over his face. He’s actually enjoying this even though he isn’t getting off himself, and you love how your pleasure affects him. Licking your lips, you close the little distance between you two. 

He kisses you deeply while moving his finger in and out. He’s using just one, but dear god… you are so sensitive. It feels so good even though you aren’t completely filled. Slowly, he pushes the second finger inside, crooking them and rubbing them along a spot where you can see stars. Your mouth suddenly opens as you let out a loud moan. You are unable to kiss him back, it feels like your whole body just tensed up and your muscles stopped working.

“Yes! God, yes.” You manage to say while he keeps on working. “Just like that.”

“Don’t worry, doll.” He speeds up a little. “I won’t stop.”

He keeps working his fingers while kissing your neck. You can feel your second orgasm approaching and it feels so good, but also not enough.

“Please…” You beg without thinking. “Please…”

“Tell me what you want.” His voice sounds so deep, so full of desire.

“Faster. A little faster.” You take a deep breath. “I’m so– close.”

He doesn’t make you ask twice, just starting to move his fingers a little faster and that’s all it takes. 

“Bucky!” You scream so loudly that it surprises even you, but it’s too late to bite your lip. The overwhelming pleasure takes over, making you scream so loudly that Bucky thinks all your neighbors know what you are up to. And he doesn’t care. They should know he is the one making you feel this good. He is the one who makes you forget about your pain and mindlessly moan his name like a prayer.

When you come down from your high, you feel boneless. It’s like your whole body relaxed after the blinding pleasure. Maybe it’s the mixture of the orgasms and the painkiller you took, but you are too tired to care. 

While you stretch your arms, you notice Bucky isn’t next to you anymore. You look around to see where he went and he comes out of the bathroom with another towel in his hand.

“Looking for me?” God, his smile is so smug, but you can’t blame him. The way you just screamed his name without having his cock inside you… That must have boosted his ego. Rightfully so. His fingers are magical. And his tongue. Also his lips. The way he turns you on so much and pulls this pleasure out of you is unbelievable.

“Yes. Why did you leave me?” You know he didn’t but you like to play.

“Just got a wet towel for you.” He kneels in front of the bed, between your legs and you prop up on your elbows to see what he’s doing. He gently moves the towel on your thighs and wipes the blood he smeared while making you scream his name.

“I could clean myself. You didn’t have to.” 

“I know you can, doll. Nobody said you can’t.” He rubs the towel against your slit and you jump a little, feeling sensitive. He notices your reaction and tries to do it more carefully. “I just want to help you.” After he’s done wiping, he folds the towel and puts it away. Immediately after, he grabs your clothes and helps you get dressed: your underwear first (and no, he did not forget about the pads), then your pajamas. In a couple of seconds, you're clean and all dressed up. “Now it’s time to rest.”

You move backward and get under the covers while watching him collect the towels all over the room and put them in the dirty laundry bin. It amazes you how he doesn’t forget about anything. He doesn’t let any small detail bother or worry you. You hear him washing his hands and he comes back with a smile on his face. 

You don’t know how you got this lucky. Having a loving and caring boyfriend like him… Getting taken care of like this… You remember how your friends talk about their boyfriends and how they do absolutely nothing. You know that’s not how a relationship should be, but you also know how rare this is. Your eyes wander back to him while he is getting undressed, showing you how incredibly hard he is. Yet he didn’t even make a move to relieve himself. He didn’t ask for a hand or begged to be inside you like he does sometimes. He put you first and unfortunately that’s even rarer.

He quickly puts on his pajamas and slips right next to you in bed. His arms are already around your waist, pulling you closer. You carefully move your hand down and palm his still rock-hard erection.

“Nope.” His answer is simple yet firm.

“Let me take care of you, Bucky.” You try to say as sweetly as possible. You want to return the favor.

“Not tonight, darling.” He gently moves your hand away. “But I promise, you can do whatever you want to me when you feel better, alright?”

“Alright.” He’s right. You are feeling sleepy already, you can do this another time. 

After all, you are his and he is yours. You have all the time in the world.

He pulls you even closer, putting his head on your shoulder behind your back.

“It’s time to sleep.”

“I love you Bucky.” You say while feeling the weight on your eyelids. It’s hard to keep them open.

“I love you too, darling.”

[lilislegacy]

um actually grover underwood is the bravest character because when percy and annabeth left for college, they drove from new york to san fran. coast to coast. and grover went with them. this dude willingly went on a long road trip with his two best friends who are in a relationship. you would not catch me dead going on a road trip with just 2 people who are dating. and 18 year olds nonetheless?? oh hell no

remember how every time in cotg when percy and annabeth flirt and kiss, grover gets so uncomfortable? how the FUCK did he enclose himself in a car with them for that long? and yes i KNOW grover is their best friend. and i KNOW he is used to them, and they are all gonna be a close trio forever. but that doesn’t mean that this road trip didn’t include many moments that made him WIDLY uncomfortable. he hasn’t been on a long extended adventure with them since before they started dating. (that we know of.) like… were percy and annabeth making flirtatious jokes with each other during the drive? were they playing love songs? did- did percy horribly belt out the words to cheesy romance songs? oh gods… do they have a song?? also percy and annabeth are so PDA it’s not even funny. they have no subtlety whatsoever. remember when they just, like, fully made out in front of piper in BoO?? (yes, the kiss with annabeth’s grunt-whimpers 🫠)

i just want to know the logistics. like are they stopping at hotels/motels? if so, are grover and percy in one bed/room and annabeth in another? or are they typical teenagers and percy’s going “so, grover, buddy, you wouldn’t mind if annabeth and i took that one, would ya?” same thing if they are camping. what’s the tent situation? are they all in one? either way i feel like percy and annabeth are gonna be sneaking away. are they going on long “walks” together while grover just sits there and chats with the trees? or do they not leave his side, and instead sit there and cuddle and flirt and act absolutely disgustingly adorable while grover is just chilling there like 🧍🏽

they love grover so so much and would NEVER do anything to purposefully make him uncomfortable or feel like a third wheel. but… it’s also percy and annabeth. they kinda have no chill when they’re around each other. zero sensible thoughts happening. it’s pretty much just “wow he/she looks so good right now” all the dam time. and yes, i also know that annabeth mentioned they faced danger on the trip, but that only seems to make percy and annabeth MORE down bad for each other. like remember in tartarus, aka LITERAL HELL, when they were suffering the worse pain and trauma imaginable, and percy’s only thoughts were how annabeth looked like a “hot barbarian princess?” they are literally the worst. i love them for it, but oh my goddess

grover underwood, you are braver than me

[zweigsangel]

you and patrick were best friends. like childhood friends type of shit, y’know? inseparable. 'platonic soulmates,' that's what he used to call you. everyone thought you two would end up together, ever since you were kids.

exactly, you were.

because then you grew up, and when patrick met tashi duncan, everything changed. she became his whole world. tashi here, tashi there. he didn't have time for you anymore. it was like you had become a ghost, invisible.

patrick's eyes that once sparkled at your jokes were now fixated on tashi. it was all about her. and the worst part? he didn't even seem to notice you fading away, like you never existed at all.

one day, you finally had the courage to talk to him about it. you didn’t want to lose him; it was the last thing you wanted. you poured out your heart, telling him how much his absence hurt, how much you missed him. but instead of understanding, he snapped. “if that's what you think, then you can go fuck yourself. tashi's better than you anyway, too bad i didn't meet her sooner.”

those were the words that made you feel your heart break into pieces. your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, making it impossible to see the regret that flickered across patrick's face. “i hate you.” you spat out, and you turned and walked away. he didn't try to stop you.

from that moment on, it was as if all those years of friendship had never existed. the memories—all erased. the only conversations you had were filled with bitterness. he would provoke you with snide remarks, and you would reply with insults.

you looked at him with hatred. even though, deep down, you didn't really hate him. how could you? when you looked at him, you remembered everything you had been through together. his nose wrinkling when he laughed at your jokes, the way he tickled you in the spots he knew made you suffer the most, the nights you spent in his backyard staring at the stars and talking, the way his eyes would light up when he saw you, and the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you feel better. you missed him. desperately. and he would look back at you, and you could swear, every single time, that a slight, almost imperceptible smile appeared on his lips. but your mind told you it was just your imagination.

one day, you were walking home, and with your luck, it started to rain. “fuck,” you muttered to yourself, clearly not having an umbrella with you. you began to walk faster, even though your house wasn't very close.

a voice made you stop. “you’re so wet. is it f’me?” you took a deep breath. you would recognize that voice anywhere. you turned around slowly, finding patrick standing there, drenched, with his wet hair stuck to his forehead, just like his clothes were stuck to his body. but his stupid smirk was still there. you stayed silent, shaking your head. “what’s the matter? no witty comeback today?” he continued to tease you. “no, because I’m tired of you!” your voice was louder than necessary, but you didn’t care anymore. “if you prefer tashi, then stay with her and stop pissing me off. don’t talk to me.” patrick let out a soft laugh. “i don’t care about tashi.”

the rain poured down, soaking both of you as you stood there in the street, the world around you fading. you could feel the anger boiling inside you. how could he stand there, looking at you like that, after everything?

you laughed. a laugh of disbelief. “oh sure. first you choose her, and now you say you don’t care? are you serious?” you practically yelled at him, finger pointed accusingly. patrick ran a hand through his wet curls, looking down. then, his eyes, full of pain and regret, met yours again. “i didn’t mean it,” he said. “i was angry, and i said something stupid. forgive me.” “and why should i forgive you? huh?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“because i love you!” he shouted, throwing his arms wide. your words caught in your throat. you wanted to scream, to hit him, to tell him how much he had hurt you. but all you could do was stand there, shivering in the rain, that continued to pour down, soaking the both of you, but you barely noticed. you were too focused on the boy in front of you. you were stunned.

“and i’ve loved you ever since i’ve known you. i never stopped. i’ve been an idiot, because i was scared. i was scared of ruining everything, and in the end, i did. because i lost you. and it’s the thing i regret most in the world.”

your heart was pounding in your chest. your lips parted, as if you wanted to speak but couldn’t find the right words to say. and patrick was standing in front of you, pouring out his heart, his voice breaking. and then, his tears mixed with the rain. patrick was crying. ‘i never cry,’ he always said. although sometimes he did, very rarely. and you were the only one he showed that side to, the vulnerable one. “pat…” you managed to say in a barely audible voice.

“no, no, don’t ‘pat’ me. i’m a piece of shit because i never tried to fix things. and i hurt you, and i know you hate me, and you should because i hate myself too—” “just shut up,” you said softly, and your lips met his. the kiss was returned almost immediately, patrick’s arms wrapping around you, holding you tightly, your wet bodies sticking together. your hands rested on his wet cheeks.

in that moment, you found your soulmate again. but not platonically this time.

( @swetearss that’s for you baee!! hope you like it)

[loves4ge]

office hours

nanami kento x gn!reader

workplace romance

you had to give it to him, the man was dedicated. you don't think you've ever seen nanami kento not working. it was actually kind of disconcerting. made you want to almost invite him for happy hour. almost. you looked at your little office desk succulent, the small mug of markers and pencils, and a tiny picture of you and your little cat.

you thought it was quite plain, but compared to nanami's near-empty desk, it might as well be festive.

"did you send over the email yet?" that was nanami. he asked you politely, in a measured voice that was distant without being rude. you turn to face him, god, he looked good in that tie. your mind processed his question slowly, as you just stared at him.

"um, sorry- the email? what e- oh! yeah, i sent it. sorry, i'm feeling a bit scatterbrained, i suppose." you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. nanami would not be invited to your funeral. you'd die a second time if that happened.

"alright then." and that was it. the quota of your talking time with nanami today was up and you'd have to survive on that sentence to fuel your crush on him. the gravelly tone in which he said alright, you could almost imagine how he'd sound like when he would say sweetheart.

god, you sounded psychotic.

"i'm not a psycho. i'm not a psycho," you repeated in whispers, typing your keyboard with aggressive strokes.

the clock struck 12, and people started filing out of the office for lunch. you texted a friend to see if she could join you for lunch but fate likes to kick you at the worst times possible; she was going to lunch with her coworkers.

your coworkers were nice, but you'd rather not spend a minute more with them unless at gunpoint. even then, you'd probably weigh the pros and cons. you'd love to have lunch with nanami, but after he turned your first two invites down, you never really built up the courage to ask again.

you stood up, making sure you had your wallet on you. you glanced at nanami; he was still seated. pursing your lips, your fingers curled into a fist out of hesitation.

"no plans for lunch today, huh?" you asked, an awkward smile painted onto your face. lord have mercy, your nerves were so visible, it was painful.

"i do." you immediately thought of another place where he could say that phrase, with you standing opposite him—you were psychotic.

"oh, well. guess you can't keep me company today, haha." you wanted to close your eyes out of sheer embarrassment. who says haha?

"that's not true. i could, if you wanted me to." your eyes shot towards him. suddenly, your mouth was dry.

"uh, well. so you'd like to have lunch with me?"

"yes, i'd love to." oh my god, he said love.

"you're sure?" he cracked a slight smile at that, and you were sure your heart was going to burst. in fact, there was 20% chance you were already dead and this was your reward for suffering through a lifetime of humiliations. you weren't sure if this was an appropriate time to pinch your arm to check.

"yes, i'm sure. you have any place in mind?"

nanami kento was going to kill gojo satoru for being the inconvenient piece of shit to ever live. not only did he have the most unserious "emergencies", he also had them at the worst possible times.

first, it was when his beautiful coworker, the one with a blue-potted succulent, invited him for lunch. nanami had noticed them when it was their first day at work, their desks being so close to each other and all. and who wouldn't notice them? nanami certainly had.

the second time nanami had to help with an emergency, it was when you invited him to dinner. this was three weeks after the first invite, so it was obvious that you had worked yourself to ask him. god, it killed him to turn you down.

"no plans for lunch today, huh?" he turned from his desk to look at you. this was a month after the dinner invite. he didn't have any plans for lunch today. he was behind on work, actually. he needed this lunch hour to catch up on things. besides, he had a big breakfast. he could always get something quick to eat at his desk from a convenience store.

"i do."

he was going to kill gojo satoru, right after he took you out for lunch.

[immoralimmortals]

I READ THEM TAGS OFFER EM UP MY LEIGE I NEED MARRIAGE HEADCANONS FOR THE AKATSUKI

(EDIT: this is by far my most popular post! If you like this, I have a longform akatsuki x reader fic pinned on my blog and linked here!)

You water my crops and put the stars in the sky. I'm madly in love with you. I'm bringing this post to your feet much like a cat does their favorite toy. I have caught it. Be proud of me, mother.

Even if it's less about the whole life of being married and more about the actual act of marrying, hope that's ok!

Akatsuki Marriage Headcanons, for real this time:

Pain:

I am a huge proponent of the popular fanon opinion that if this man takes you so seriously as to express a label for it (love, spouse, etc.), he is at the brink of worshiping your feet. Don't get me wrong, in terms of the arrangement of proposal and marriage ceremony, the leader is still in charge; however, he is dictating with every detail painstakingly about you. If there is decor, it is your favorite color. If you expressed you like a certain gemstone, he tracks it down for proposal and gets the finest cut upon your finger. You don't want an actual wedding? No problem, you're just going to come home to several thousand lit candles and a profession of commitment as deep from his heart as a corpse is in the grave.

The idea is that it is necessary for this bond to be formalized, at least for his own sake. Pain would refer to it as something you need to hear. If he is nothing else, he is serious about whatever he experiences emotionally; that goes for both his immense suffering and his most delicate of joys. He declares you his, neigh: commands...but only after you assure him yes.

If a traditional proposal is done, it must be in private. He dares not be too exposed. It's already so much that he has become vulnerable to you.

It is a hard privilege to earn. And so, the Akatsuki leader pays you back in kind. As long as you both shall live, you are his deity. You will never want, not as long as he is allowed to bask in you.

Pain kisses you firmly, one hand on your wrist and one on your back. You are to feel both his presence and his commitment.

A wedding song for you: Take me to Church by Hozier (yes I am a sucker for this song, yes yes and yes) or Ship in a Bottle by fin

Konan:

All at once, her heart aches in the best and worst ways, as it is such a curse of the Akatsuki to have had their loves taken too soon. Up till this point, she has been passive, letting you lead the relationship, but now- despite how much she yearns for the same- the angel stands her ground.

"Why?" you ask her in retaliation. She's thin-lipped as she refuses the real answer. It takes a couple tries over a few, staggered moments in private for the truth to tumble out:

She does not want another person she loves to die because of her. It's irrational; your death is not predetermined by the commitment. And yet it remains. She is scared, and the closer you get the more she stings.

But you have to press closer. You have to assure, promise, fight your way back into her heart as it tries to close you out in self protection. You succeed, thanks to one of the reasons you adore Konan: her capacity to hope, no matter the circumstance. Reminder her of that, and she can only be yours.

The wedding is small, the two of you and whomever you deem precious enough to witness. (I imagine probably not even a full handful). It is twilight and the color of the world is shaded blue. Blue as her hair, blue as she feels whenever you're away, blue in the same way the purest of whites are to the human eye. You are pristine. The paper that folds the bouquets that drape around you are spotless and glow in the moonlight in such a way they're almost lanterns. Their starkly pale and crisply folded nature surround as if it is her prayer that everything that is good may stay that way.

Konan kisses you in such a way that no part of you but your lips touch one another. It is chaste, it is soft, it is a seal.

A wedding song for you: Saturn by Sleeping at Last (I cry every single time I hear this in full. I sincerely think there are few songs that have so viscerally touched me like this one has.) or Soul Meets Body by Death Cab for Cutie

Obito:

You cannot get his single-mindedness off of Rin. There is no way around it, and anything meant as distraction will not only fail but backfire on you. Therefore, if you are this deep into a partnership, you are there not in spite of her but thanks to her. You will be compared and contrasted to no end; this is not cruel, it is merely how he shapes his worldview in regards to goodness and love. You are his second chance. You are his solitude.

You don't get opportunity to propose. He will tell you first.

It is every definition of a ceremony, almost ritualistic, almost like they're crowning a king/queen. The ceilings are tall and decorated with the visage of ancestors and gods. Incense is lit and the setting sun sets the room on fire with orange and red. You are presented to him, ornate in the way he demands. A masked face cannot hide the lust and satisfaction in his voice. His hand reaches out, and you take it. For perhaps the first time, the mask is tilted to hide from their audience while still showing his scarred face to you.

His kiss is hard. Not sloppy, but hard. His hand is on the back of your head, and he going to press you into him until your soul enters his body.

A wedding song for you: Come Along by Cosmo Sheldrake or Sick of Losing Soulmates by dodie

Bad relationship songs because I can't control myself: Anybody Else by Dom Fera (THE song of all time for me, I love it) or Sex with a Ghost by Teddy Hyde

Zetsu:

Marriage? That's a fascinating concept. He's never had the desire for this kind of relationship before, but as you talk more and more of it, the more he grasps. In the end, it is a concept that matters to you, and he can appreciate the sentiment of it.

The weirdest part, honestly, is that you reserved such a thing for him.

Though he follows along (you must guide the entire arrangement), he quietly, curiously doubts the whole time. But your guiding hand is so soft as you take him and lead, so nice onto his skin as you select two rings and slide one on each color of hand. You make no mistake: it is both you are marrying. It is both you are committing to. That recognition is his first step into a hesitant acceptance of your eternal love.

When the time comes, you walk him to the first place you met, beside a large tree in a clearing with no human settlement in sight. None of the "don't see the bride/groom" tradition, it has no room here. Any amount of people you want are there, regardless of if it is everyone or no one. (He would prefer no one, but this is all for you, after all). As you're about to kiss him, he makes one request. It is the only thing Zetsu has asked for in all of this time:

Let him taste you.

How can you tell him no?

So his bi-colored lips part, taking your bottom lip into his first, and then rounded teeth gently drag the flesh into his mouth. Pressure is applied and you taste your blood, though fleetingly as he drinks it in. In all the time you've known him, this is the closest Zetsu has ever been to you. In this symbolic action, you have finally gained his full and complete trust.

Zetsu's kiss is metallic but it is not cold. It is pensive, meditative, doing his best to understand that which you crave, and so he does his best to crave you. He cups your face in both of his ringed hands so he need not focus on anything but your taste.

A wedding song for you: & by Tally Hall or Yes to Err is Human, So Don't Be One by Will Wood

Hidan:

At first he's going to make fun of you. He's going to tell you that this is the dumbest idea he's ever heard. And when you go quiet and don't bring it up again, he is going to pin you down and demand to be told why you changed your mind.

This man wants you so much, he can't fathom it. What is marriage if you must slaughter your neighbor? Well...a lover is a step above neighbor, isn't it?

Thank Jashin he doesn't need to kill you to get married.

If you do a traditional wedding, he will drag his feet but he will do it. It's to your detriment alone, really, how obnoxious he'd be. If you pin a flower to his lapel, he'll rip it off. He'll spit to the side in disgust at any mushy gushy talk done in front of others in this bastardization of another religion's ritual. This isn't a real ceremony. Let him show you what a wedding really is:

It's going to end up with your blood on his body and his blood on yours. He makes you straddle his lap, in the middle of the symbol of his lord that he's drawn upon the floor. The same sigil is dangled from a chain, his necklace held between you, from your view right between his intense violet eyes. The metal is cold as it plays a barrier between your lips and his.

Hidan's kiss is reverent. If this Jashinist is marrying you, he fucking means it. Do more than tolerate the cut a knife makes into your palm; pray to it.

...And then he will pray to you.

A wedding song for you: I Wanna Be Your Slave by Maneskin or Misanthrapologist by Will Wood

Bad relationship song I can't help but add: This is Love by Air Traffic Controller

Kakuzu:

Despite popular belief, this is not a man who fusses over money the way Scrooge does over every last coin. By the contrary, it is that he is a man that does not have much to give. This is in every sense, it turns out. Kakuzu is a man that has had all hope in humanity and for himself beat the hell out of him, so it's a shock to him if you hint at a desire for marriage. A mistake, that's what you're trying to make, here. At first he'll rebuff with few words but still sure, but it'll hitch onto him like a tick. A traditional man at heart, you know best to let him propose himself.

And so he does. It is the only time you've ever seen him doubt himself, but of course you tell him yes. As you throw your arms around him, that's when reality hits in the best of ways.

He does not wait, not if you don't oppose him. He takes you to a temple, middle of nowhere with no one either of you or your nations will know. For an old man, it's such a romantic, young man's task to arrange to elope. The priest marries you, as you sit side by side at the break of dawn upon his stoop. He wears his mask, still wears long robes to cover his stitches, but his silky brown hair drifts so beautifully with the wind; he will say this compliment is one he had of you and yours, when he looks back upon today. You are his world, intertwined in an immortal and mortal life.

Kakuzu does not kiss you at the wedding. That comes later, when no one else is there. He pulls down his mask and takes your mouth upon his, tangled until one of you can't breathe anymore.

A wedding song for you: Vanilla Curls by Teddy Hyde or Budapest by George Ezra

Deidara:

A flirt he may be, but a guy of commitment? Hell no. At first he's really flattered, chuckling and letting a large smirk trail up one side of his face. It falls when he realizes you're being serious. "Wait, really?" You nod, and his always-intense stare seems a bit closer to concerned.

"My dear...you're getting carried away, aren't you?" he offers like a second chance to not embarrass yourself.

Everything, as it always has for Deidara, has happened so fast it hits him before he recognizes what it is. Love is included, even and up until the point he's in this deep. Honestly? It terrifies him. He'll laugh and walk away, but it'll fucking haunt him.

A couple days of flying on a bird, all by his lonesome, and he returns with a bit of a different view. Life is short, beauty is fleeting: the opportunity is here and damned if he don't take it. He offers your hand- both in marriage and for a ride- and you soar into the sky.

There's no such thing as a traditional wedding, no need for it when the most beautiful things in the world are you and his art. Explosions and fireworks alike light up the night sky and he leans over to whisper his dedication upon your lips.

Deidara's kiss is, of course, bombastic. It's intense and with tongue and repeats, over and over, never lasting too long as he can't keep his love-drunk words to himself for longer than two seconds. Streamers and confetti flutter around your heads, grander than any parade for any newly wed prince or princess.

A wedding song for you: The Cult of Dionysus by The Orion Experience or Fear and Delight by The Correspondents

Sasori:

Only someone who knows him as well as you will pick up the subtlest shifts of the scorpion's expression, the way brown eyes barely widen. You bring it up, nearly like a dream you had, nearly like you're talking to yourself in your sleep, but he hears it. Sasori continues with his work, the monotony of woodwork allowing him to chew on the idea. A marriage isn't necessary, of course...but he also will lie to himself about how downright alluring the symbolism of a wedding is.

If the most beautiful things are eternal, why not your love?

If you've gotten him so far that Sasori will consider whatever form of affection he can manage in his barely organic heart, then he will make every second of your life never-ending bliss.

He decorates you, almost like one of his dolls, in the finest patterns of fabric and sleekest of jewelry. He pains over every inch of skin on top of muscle and bone, the way the ring slips on your finger and the way your wrist bends to do it. The ritual is an art piece, and you gaze upon him so marvelously... Your lips part with such slight but sure poise...

The venue is silent and you both are alone. Not even a bird caws, no insect chirps. Pure, clear as glass silence. You are the only two beings in all of existence. You will ascend time itself. A single candle is lit as you sit in the deepest depths of this cave, where no one may interrupt.

Where no one can hear him confess to you.

Sasori's kiss is soft, far too soft. He holds both of your hands so delicately, like they're on a string. Lines of chakra help you move into him in a way that is just right, just utterly perfect.

A wedding song for you: Thumbnail by Louie Zong and Brian David Gilbert or Dark of the Matinee by Franz Ferdinand

Kisame:

Shockingly enough, this guy is going to be your hardest sell. Perhaps predictably, it isn't because he dislikes marriage, settling down, falling in love. Disliking and opposing are very different things.

He panics, at least just a little the first time you mention it. "I'm a shinobi, you know. You won't see me very much." Time passes on, and your desire appears again:

"I'm a rough guy. Just take a second to think about what you're asking for, alright?"

More time, and more desperation on his part with your persistence:

"I am meant to die alone," he finally tells you outright. "Don't bother with me. You could be spending your time so much better than fussing over someone who isn't going to last."

But you do, and he does last. Unfortunately, he does last. It gnaws him to the bone.

"Alright," he'll ask you, a long time since you first expressed your wants, "Are you certain?" You say yes, of course you say yes. Bittersweet, sharp teeth smile. "Very well," the swordsman concedes.

You marry traditionally, though very small. A hood drapes over him, hiding his face as the priest speaks the seal of marriage. His hand clings to yours, so very afraid of losing you. Or worse: making you lose him.

With the formalities out of the way, his own way begins. Finally alone, you both plunge into deep water, a loud splash quickly muting to flooded ears. He holds your face as your hair drifts past him in strands noses nearly touching. Kisame gets a good look at you before he changes everything forever, closing his eyes.

Kisame's kiss is a leap of faith. It tastes like lake water and seaweed and his love. He presses all of you into him like a shell holds a pearl, limbs climbing around you as you suspend in water and sink. Breathe into him, breathe deep. Every last breath in his lungs is just for you.

A wedding song for you: Against the Kitchen Floor by Will Wood or If I'm Being Honest by dodie

Itachi:

The implications of this circumstance are astounding. He loves you- yes, of course he does- but what's more is that he loves you enough to be so selfish as to gift himself to you, even knowing the fate he's reserved. It is both impressive and heartbreaking. Have hope, you ask of him. That is all you ask of him. Give it a chance. It is what he wants, isn't it?

Of course it is. But are you okay if the inevitable comes true?

You pause, and he studies your naive, innocent eyes. But you know more than perhaps Itachi has realized. You know it is okay to treasure. It is okay to enjoy. The journey matters more than the destination. Yes, it is okay, you tell him, you love to love him all the same.

Dark eyes close. Then he will give you what is desired.

Kisame is present, of course, as well as the ancestors of the Uchiha clan in spirit. You are radiant, and he tells you so. You return the compliment in soft earnest. A single hand cups your cheek as he approaches, pausing to feel and taste your breath as it drifts into his mouth.

Itachi's kiss is barely there, like he's afraid of breaking glass. If you want to kiss deeper, you'll need to go in and get it yourself. Just don't mistake delicacy for a lack of interest. This is the most of his body he has ever given in his entire life. Just give him time.

A wedding song for you: Herbal Tea by Velvet Moon or Here For You by Good Co

[panlight]

One thing I always think about when the vegetarian vampire debate comes up: We’re told that animal blood tastes bad. As a picky eater who was often forced by my parents to eat food I didn’t like when I was a kid, I know how bad of an experience eating actually is when you’re forced to eat food you don’t like. So now imagine you’re suddenly living a life where your only choices are hunt and kill your own food which is a species you used to be and is able to communicate with you and beg for their life, or never enjoy the taste of your food ever again. And on top of that, unless you kill these beings, you have a perpetual burning sore throat!

This is another major reason Breaking Dawn didn't work for me. I had read all of SM's 'personal correspondence' on the Lexicon before I read BD, so I had it in my head that being a vegetarian was like, just The Worst. It was a huge sacrifice. It was strep throat and food you hated forever. It was noble suffering. And I vibed with that! I love that stuff! It's the exact same reason newborn!Carlisle trying to kill himself gets to me. Someone sacrificing themselves or suffering to spare others suffering is just *chef's kiss*. I love it.

As you said, animal blood is supposed to be a poor substitute. It all tastes pretty bad, but some of it (bears for Emmett, mountain lions for Edward) is marginally better depending on personal taste. But it's still the low-sodium sugar-free reduced-fat version of your favorite food at best. And that's not getting into the physical and psychological stuff! Here's how SM talked about vampire thirst in conversation with the Twilight Lexicon:

In the Twilight world [. . .] Thirsty vampires are in acute physical pain. It is comparable to the feel of a third degree burn inside your throat. It can make a vampire literally crazy for relief—beyond thought. If your hand was on fire and there was a bucket of ice water beside you, would you resist that relief? Of course not. You would have no reason to. Back to the average vampire’s viewpoint, neither does a vampire have a reason to resist. There is a fire, he or she quenches it. Problem, solution. It is not about pleasure as much as relief of pain for the thirsty vampire. There is pleasure in the act, but it does not influence the motivation before the act as much as the pain does. The well-fed vampire has more decision making ability left to him or her. (Except in the rare case when a human’s blood is so potent to a particular vampire that it sets his or her throat on fire like they haven’t drunk in months. There is more pleasure in the act in this situation, too, just as there is more pain in the motivation.) Blood drinking is an imperative. Even for a vampire who keeps his or her system full of animal blood, the lack of human blood is constant pain. I think the only human state that is even close to comparable is anorexia. Anorexia is too hard on a human body—in the end, if not given up, it kills a human. Vampires can’t be killed by starvation, so they manage. But it’s harder than you’re giving them credit for. My philosophy is this: I can’t judge vampires, because I’ve never done anything as physically difficult—nothing even close!—as giving up human blood is to them.

Maybe it's just me, but I got NONE of that from Bella's narration in Breaking Dawn. It's not a thing. She's supper happy all the time. Her thirst is barely mentioned. And I was like, what?! Where is the burning pain? Where is the unending ache? Where is the gnawing hunger for something you are denying yourself because to indulge would mean someone else's death?

I suppose you can handwave it as Bella being good at blocking things she doesn't want to think about, but this is usually in regard to like, fishing trips with Charlie, and not a supernatural constant pain in her throat. She complained plenty about things like the rain but is unbothered by vampiric thirst pain apparently.

Again, I was here primarily for the vampires (and werewolves shifters) but in Breaking Dawn it's like SM gave up any pretense she was actually interested in the vampire stuff. Edward angsts and suffers and denies himself and it's noble and romantic but the instant Bella's a vampire those themes are gone. She has one slightly tense meeting with Charlie on literally day two and after that thirst is just whatever. She's a sparkly superhero instead.