#that are so terrible in nature you kind of have to include little things to emphasize the horror of it.

[brutalmasks]

' it's quite funny how the world works. suddenly, killing makes you a villain if you're not some high end fancy pants ordering men to die in the name of honour. a flag is a stupid think to waste your life over, but, it's made glorious and beautiful and honourable. nobody tells you about the rage that comes with it, with the understanding that war is man-made violence and, therefore, it isn't a part of the natural cycle of life and death. '

bunny mask's first thought when the other first began speaking that the other had a very powerful way of commanding her attention; a trait that bunny mask herself found interesting, for this meant whoever possessed it oozed confidence, in her opinion. and although the spirit herself would willingly listen to anyone given the chance, it made her wonder about who this woman beside her was already. or what all she had experienced, as it were, since life events seemed to often have a tendency to shape who you are. bunny mask was clad in her usual attire at the moment; her mask in the shape of a rabbit obscuring the upper part of her face completely, with only wide slits cut out of it near the top to accommodate her glaring white eyes, and the dress she wore a nearly pristine looking white color.

and i say nearly because of the soot that was smeared across her collar. however, she thought she knew what she was getting into whenever she followed the sight of smoke in the distance, so this was of little importance to her: what was important to bunny mask was seeing if anyone needed her help here. it was usually a bad sign whenever a deep, dark smog that screamed ' fire ' had created a wall of it's own in the sky. but it turned out that she was wrong. this place was clearly pillaged and completely torn apart brick from brick, as the places that people used to call home were reduced to piles of wood scorched by embers. a thick layer of ash seemed to have formed in the midst of the landscape, and bunny mask could feel in her gut that something terrible had happened here.

perhaps as part of a war, as mya highlighted. the spirit could feel her heart drop while the other described her perspective on the sometimes militaristic and bleak nature of humanity. no, was it her experience? bunny mask thought that the way she phrased her words made this all sound very personal. a frown tugged at her lips as she bent down to touch the ash, letting it run through her fingers. mya was right — this was nothing to be proud of. she looked up at the other from the side, then, and spoke, ❝ you are right. i sincerely hope you were not here to witness what had happened here, for that would be a horror that you would likely never forget. but the men who do things like this, who ordered their own to risk their lives to ruin other's; they simply refuse to think they are the villains of anyone's story because they believe they are doing it for a noble purpose. though they are certainly not. ❞

bunny mask stood up and took a deep breath as she surveyed the land before her. there looked to be no survivors here, so the people here were either all killed, or maybe some had escaped. the latter might've been wishful thinking but bunny mask wanted to have some hope that this place was not turned completely into a mass grave, ❝ was that what this conflict was born from? the excessive pride of a nation, who are of the mind that they're righteous and good, but commit barbaric acts such as this one? ❞ she had to tell herself to take a deep breath now or she would likely lose herself to anger. and that would not be a pretty sight, for neither her, nor the other who stood just an arm's length away from her. in and out. bunny mask could feel the claws of her right hand dig into her palm as she took a moment to inhale, then exhale, but she didn't care.

everything about this was wrong. bunny mask let her eyes become half-lidded with the sense of sorrow that had come over her suddenly, like a tidal wave. it was just as she feared. mya had experienced this for herself, ❝ it is not natural. that, i must agree with. i am of the belief that we are fated to leave this world at a specific time and the lives of the humans that died in this town were stolen. they still had much to experience, to love. and from what i am hearing, you were forced to partake in the wrongful robbing of people's lives yourself, were you not? through war. an organized form of slaughter, glamorized to appear necessary by the masses, where there is no true victor. where everyone loses something and you are left feeling full of rage because of what you were coerced to do. ❞

the chill running through bunny mask's bones only intensified when she saw it on the ground. a doll, abandoned by it's owner, within the ash. bunny mask's voice became low, ❝ i am sorry. i am... so sorry. ❞

[monsterblogging]

"I know JK Rowing is a terrible person but her books are so good-"

You sure about that?

I mean, just for a start, have you taken a good look at her fantasy creatures lately? A whole bunch of them are straight-up based on malicious and dehumanizing stereotypes about actual people.

Remember the werewolves? And being a werewolf was made into a kind of metaphor for having AIDS?

And you know how AIDS was first associated with gay men? And how conservatives back in the day were claiming gay men were preying on children in order to convert them to gayness?

Remember how Fenrir Greyback preyed on children in particular? Yeah, she put that subtext in there. She was an adult in the 90's. She knew damn well what she was doing.

Remember the house elves? Remember how most of them loved to serve and needed to have a home and a master or else they just wouldn't know what to do with themselves?

Did you know that's literally what slavers in the American South said about the Black people they kept enslaved? Go look up the happy slave myth.

Do I even need to get into the goblins and the antisemitic tropes they're based on? No, folkloric goblins were not gold-hoarding bankers waiting for their chance to stab humanity in the back.

"But the characters are so good!"

Are you kidding me?

Most of her characters are pretty one-dimensional, including Harry. Her idea of making a morally complicated character is giving a tragic past to a bully. Numerous characters are little more than stereotypes. (Looking at Fleur right now.) Literally anybody, including you, can easily make dozens of characters just as good, if not better. (It doesn't exactly take a lot of character designing skill to go, "hey, actually, having a sad backstory doesn't make it okay to bully children" or "hey, maybe I should not base a character on the first stereotype that pops into my head.")

"But the rest of the worldbuilding!"

Sorry, but her worldbuilding is just as basic as her characters. Magical castles and secret passages are stock tropes. Magical people who keep their true nature secret from humanity is the premise of pretty much every White Wolf TTRPG. Most of her fantasy creatures are just common European fairy tale and folklore creatures with shitty stereotypes projected onto them.

I'm not saying "basic worldbuilding bad." I'm saying, you could do just as good, if not better, with minimal effort.

Also there's her magical bioessentialism, where only Harry's abusive blood relatives could provide him with supernatural protection from Voldemort. Rowling thus effectively declared that non-biological family isn't quite real family, and that abusive biofamily can give you some essential thing that a loving, supportive family that isn't related to you just can't.

The Hogwarts houses are one of the most insidious elements of her worldbuilding. The idea of being sorted gives you a little dopamine hit because wow now you have a li'l niche where you belong!

But the actual function of the houses and sorting system and the House Cup is teaching children to see each other as rivals, and ensure that the most toxic views of the upper class get passed on to every new batch of kids sorted into Slytherin.

Hogwarts effectively prepares children for a dystopia where magic serves to distract its citizens from how nightmarishly awful it is. Economic inequality is so bad that people like Arthur and Molly Weasley can barely afford to put their kids through school, casual sadism is just an accepted norm in everyday society, and non-humans are second class citizens. Rowling sorta acts like she thinks this is a bad thing with certain lines she gave to Dumbledore, but in the end, her special boy protagonist becomes an auror; IE, a defender of the status quo. So.

If you've never seen it, Lily Simpson's video goes into even more detail on how the worldbuilding of Harry Potter is actually incredibly fucked up, and how it betrays small-minded attitudes on Rowling's part. There's no separating the art from this artist, because Rowling's rotten values pour out of nearly every page.

Yes, there are many things in Harry Potter that evoke feelings and inspire people, but there's absolutely nothing in it that this series has a monopoly on. You can find those same experiences in much, much better media.

[silkscream]

natural devotion

ੈ✩ synopsis: gojo finds you, his ex-wife, in a sketchy dive bar. he almost doesn't recognize you.

ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), previous arranged marriage, ex-husband!gojo, clanleader!gojo, rough bathroom sex, semi-public sex, drunk sex, oral, fingering + penetration, light choking, gojo is.... weird idk how to explain. he's just strange and cold and possessive and so odd

ੈ✩ wc: 3.2k

ੈ✩ a/n: literally nobody asked for this. also it's unedited. sorry

Gojo thinks he sees a ghost when he sees you.

At least, he thinks it’s you.

You don’t see him yet, so he takes the liberty to scan you over more thoroughly. You’re not wearing anything like the simple, modest attire he remembered you donning around his estate. Instead, you’re in a form-fitting crop top and the tiniest mini skirt Gojo has ever seen. He’s not sure if it even classifies as a skirt.

Interesting.

He takes a breath as he sits down next to you, interrupting your conversation with the bartender to offer his card. You turn to look at him and you laugh.

“Put hers on my tab,” Gojo says.

“Always the gentleman.”

“You know I’ll always take care of you. Even if we aren’t married anymore.”

You could scoff at that, but you decide to be polite. He’s as candid as he’s always been. It used to humiliate you, but you aren’t the same docile little wife you used to be. You also realize his gesture could be interpreted as tender, which isn’t something you were ever used to in your marriage.

He was a cold man and it was a marriage of convenience.

Or perhaps he was only cold to you. You would watch how he would interact at social gatherings and clan parties, his charisma infecting entire rooms. Toothy grins that shone as brightly as his hair. Always loud, animated, and magnetic.

To you, he was mostly indifferent.

He was never outwardly mean, but he was constantly occupied with missions. It almost felt as if you weren’t married at all. You enjoyed speaking to him when he was around, though. There were moments when you could almost picture yourself being his friend, but then he would be away and come back cold. 

When you asked for a divorce, he complied without a blink. Even after you were free from becoming an incubator for the Gojo clan’s next heir, something in your chest ached at how easily Gojo signed the papers.

And now, he’s tipsy in a bar with you and more tuned into your presence than ever. When he looks at you, there’s a lingering that you convince yourself you’re hallucinating.

Small talk with him is odd. He’s much more complicated than that, but here you are, discussing trivial things right now. If he’s remarried yet (he hasn’t). If you honed in on your cursed technique (you have).

It’s terribly odd. Like talking to a stranger that you’ve only met in a dream.

“I thought you’d have better taste in bars,” he drawls, sipping a Cosmo. It was annoyingly endearing, the way he wasn’t the kind of man to have a glass of whiskey despite acting like it.

“I could say the same to you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not a regular. This place is full of perverts.”

“Does that include you?”

Gojo grins. “Not like some of these guys. You would’ve gotten roofied if I didn’t sit down. And your outfit certainly isn’t helping.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” you scoff.

“It is one. You’re a sight to behold. Never saw you in anything like this when we were married.”

“Your clan would have my head. I assume you would, too,” you mutter. 

His eyes are taking you in, flickering between your face and your body. It would make you uncomfortable if you weren’t already three beers in. 

“I wouldn’t be angry. I just don’t promise that I would’ve kept my hands to myself.”

You stare at him in disbelief.

“I think this is the most forward you’ve ever been to me.”

“You were so timid back then,” he smirks. He places a hand on your knee, his thumb tracing the skin. “Such a nervous little girl. There were times I assumed you were cheating on me, the way you were so rigid with me.”

You remember being obedient and quiet. Perhaps rigid, but you had only followed his lead, pushing yourself away from him just because he was doing it to you first. You know you shouldn’t apologize or feel guilty for your lack of intimacy with him, but the way he teases you makes your face heat up.

“I wouldn’t cheat on you,” you frown.

“Good,” he smiles. It almost seems genuine. “I wouldn’t have let anyone have you, anyway.”

Your eyes widen in slight surprise.

Why did you let me divorce you, then?

His fingers are tracing circles into the skin of your thigh absentmindedly. The flutter in your chest threatens to pull on your lungs when you notice.

“You’re so different now,” he notes.

“Not really.”

“I don’t just mean the way you look, by the way. Your eyes are sharper. Posture better. Not a meek little thing anymore, huh?”

You could flush at how he belittles you, but the praise gets to your head. 

“Huh. You’re the opposite. You look and act the same as when I last saw you.”

He laughs. “I always liked when you talked back, you know. Anyone ever told you can be a bit of a brat?”

You raise a brow. “Yes.”

His breath smells sweet. Tongue like a candy apple from the sugared liquor in his glass, you were sure. You don’t wince when he gets closer to you.

“Yeah? And how do they deal with it?”

You bite the inside of your cheek before entertaining him.

“Everyone’s a little different,” you mumble.

You miss the flicker of jealousy in his eyes. You’re too distracted by the shape of his mouth.

“What do you think I’d do?” Gojo tilts his head as if he’s taunting you.

“I don’t– what?” you stammer. 

“You’re a smart girl. Use your imagination.”

He grins again. Everything about him is sickeningly sweet. It’s not a side of him you’ve ever seen directed at you. There’s almost a fondness there. You would only see it before in rare moments, usually when Gojo was a little drunk. You suppose he could be drunk now and you’re almost grateful despite yourself. He would always get a little handsy, especially if you were dressed up for his clan events. He’d have his hand only on your leg, crawling up the skirt of your dress. During times like those, he felt like a real husband.

They were always such fleeting moments. Even years after the divorce, certain memories could still make you dizzy. 

Your mouth goes dry. You compose yourself. 

“Sorry. I, uh, have to use the bathroom.”

“Gonna use your imagination in there?” Gojo jokes.

“Something like that,” you mutter back, if only to humor him.

You don’t realize the hole you’ve put yourself in once you utter the words. The invitation you’ve given him. Unfortunately, you’re also still reeling from the conversation, so you forget to lock the door of the handicapped bathroom. 

To be fair, Gojo did try to convince himself not to follow you for the entire three minutes you were gone. But he’s never been that good of a man. It was your fault for being so damn tempting in the first place. But he had tried to be good even in the very beginning – he was polite, kept his hands to himself. Bought you anything you wanted. 

He even let you leave him. After seeing you tonight, he now knows it was a grave mistake.

“Satoru.”

“Hey.” 

He closes the door gently and locks it. Leans against the door with his arms crossed as if waiting for you to do a magic trick from the way he’s looking at you expectantly. 

“Why are you–”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t want me to follow you,” he tuts. 

Okay. Fine. He had a point.

“This must be exciting for you, yeah? Seeing me lose it over you?”

You can’t form words. Despite the fire in your belly, you aren’t completely sure what his angle is here. He steps forward and backs you into the wall. He could pin you to it, easily.

His hands rest on your thighs, riding up the length of the pathetic excuse you call a skirt. 

“You’re trying to kill me with this,” he huffs. “Just making everything so… difficult.”

He almost sounds disappointed in you. There is a rush of desperation flooding your brain like a knee-jerk reaction. You can feel your heart about to burst.

“Sorry,” you mumble. You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.

“I was really trying to behave, too,” Gojo sighs. “Wouldn’t want to scare my ex-wife away with how much I missed her. Christ.”

“You– what?”

“Yeah, baby. How could I not miss this face?” He strokes your cheek. You’re convinced he’s been possessed by someone else, maybe. Mistaken you for a different stranger.

Your knees are already going weak. He leans in to whisper in your ear. The hand stroking your cheek holds your chin, squishing your face slightly.

“Didn’t you miss me?”

“I… I did,” you whisper.

“Good,” he smiles softly. “I like knowing you still think about me.”

The proximity is driving him insane, but he’s always liked to play with you. Sometimes he would be a little mean on purpose, but never enough to be considered bullying. He just enjoyed watching you squirm back then — it was adorable how dedicated you were to playing the part of a doting wife. He wanted to see you crack, maybe beg for his attention, but you were always too stubborn.

His cock throbs knowing that you’re putty in his hands now. Melting against him, soft and willing like a blooming flower. God, he needs a taste. He nibbles on your earlobe and grins when he feels your breath hitch.

“I kind of wanted to just take you right there on the bar. Let all those creeps see how good I’d fuck you.”

Your eyes flutter rapidly at his words. He has pinned you to the wall now. You’re close enough to feel him press against you, bullet-hard. A little more teasing and he’d pull the trigger. 

He kisses down your neck, mapping it out with his teeth. He’s barely touched you and you feel like an elastic band about to snap.

“S-Satoru–”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

You pant lightly. You’re preening into his touch. Lightning makes roots down the center of your spine. You forget what you wanted to say.

“What is it? You want me to take care of you?” He pulls back this time to look you directly in the eyes. His expression softens just a second at the lovestruck look in your eyes. Tender and glistening.

You nod slowly.

“I need your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” your voice shakes. “I want you to take care of me.”

He hums, pleased. The desire in his face is so new to you despite having been his wife. He’d only fucked you once before, on your anniversary. You were too tempting and he, admittedly, was tired of punishing himself by not allowing himself the pleasure of having you.

He could see you now, sprawled on the tatami mat, how you smelled like cherry blossoms. Flashes of images reeling in his mind, every little sound you made. He’d fucked his fist to the memory of it all too often after you left him. 

He felt honored to have the real thing in his hands right now.

He kisses you like he needs you to breathe. You feel blood rush to your ears, the music from the bar muffled. All you could hear were the sound of his grunts, the slickness of his tongue in between your lips. 

He spins you around abruptly, bending you over the sink. Hand on your throat, teeth in the tendon of your shoulder.

“Look at how pretty you are,” he rasps. 

You whimper, feeling his hard cock rut against the curve of your ass. He laughs when he swipes his hand underneath your skirt, the fabric of your underwear already wet. 

You gasp sharply when he eases a finger in without any resistance. He swallows the sounds you make, craning your neck towards his face with his hand while the other works another finger in. Your stomach flips, all boiling heat when he curves his fingers in just the right spot. As if he’d done it a dozen times.

“Dirty girl,” Gojo mumbles. “Getting off to her ex-husband's fingers all the way up in her cunt. In a fucking dive bar bathroom, too.”

When you whine, he only scissors into you harder and laughs. It kills you how much it turns you on, even while knowing he’s being cruel. You would fantasize about it all the time back then. Needed him to make you a real wife so you could forget yourself. You close your eyes, groaning.

“S-Satoru, I–”

“You’re not gonna cum just from that, are you?” You hear a grin in his voice.

“Fuck, please —”

His fingers leave you, making you whine in protest. The sopping mess of your arousal trickles down your inner thighs. 

“Not yet, baby. Want you to cum in my mouth.”

Gojo drops to his knees and flips up your skirt, pulling your soiled underwear down your legs at the same time. You cover your mouth to keep from moaning when you feel his tongue prodding at your cunt. 

“I always regret not tasting you on our anniversary,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “You’re sweeter than I imagined.”

“Imagined?” you squeak out.

“You thought I stopped wanting you just because I signed a piece of paper?”

“I didn’t – oh, fuck —”

You’re distracted by the plunge of his tongue into cunt. He sucks at the hood of your clit and you feel yourself jerk involuntarily. He’s fond of your sensitivity. He used to want to take advantage of it.

You let a particular loud whine and he hums, lapping up every drop of your arousal. He sucks at your clit in earnest while he brings his fingers back to you, immediately reaching for the spot he knows will make you see stars. 

You cum so hard that you nearly bang your head against the sink faucet. Your head is spinning from the impact of it, dizzied on the high that came from a clan head in your cunt. The alcohol wasn’t helping.

He’s quick to get to his feet and kiss you so you can taste yourself. He tugs your hair and you arch for him like a taut bowstring.

“Feel how much I want you, baby?” You can feel his dick against you, something like shame flooding your system at how much of a mess you were. Getting his nice slacks all damp with your slick.

“Please,” you beg. 

He doesn’t think twice once he hears your plea. He unbuckles his belt quickly and slides down his pants. He collects your wetness in between your folds to stroke his dick. 

It feels like he’s gouging your stomach when he fucks into you. Bigger than any man you’ve had, still. Gojo likes that he was your first and he’s decided now that he will be your last.

“Tight,” Gojo mutters. You know it’s a compliment but your face heats up nonetheless. His hand around your throat is only more confirmation of his want. 

He smacks your ass with his other hand, looking down to admire the reddish mark he left. Brute. He grins when you squeeze him tighter after it. He notices your eyes struggling to stay open and gives a particularly hard thrust just to see your jaw go slack. Eyes in half-moons, boiled by the heat of your thumping heart. Blood pumping to every soft spot in your body, your brain.

“Satoru,” you gasp.

“Yeah, baby?”

“F-Feels so…”

You inhale sharply, eyes widening when his hand snakes down to pinch your clit. Your hair’s wrapped his knuckles now. A ribbon around a wedding gift. He liked when you used to wear ribbons around your neck. Liked imagining you all wrapped up for him. 

Satoru was so beautiful when he did anything, but he was angelic when he was fucking you. Cheeks all carmine, mouth wide open. It was something you wanted to get used to.

“You keep clenching, Jesus,” he grunts. Teeth at your nape, at your shoulder. Blue eyes staring at you in the mirror.

“Satoru, I’m close,” you whine.

“Hold it.”

“I– I don’t know if I can.”

“You can. You’re a good girl, even if you are dressed like a little slut.”

You whimper at that, your cunt pulsating at his words. Muscles strung out like a wet rag. You nearly cry when he pulls out of you, manhandling you to turn. He picks you up to set you down on the cold sink counter, the porcelain soothing the bruising on your ass.

He groans as he pumps himself slowly, admiring the way his tip catches on your entrance. You squirm a little, impatient, and he kisses you. It feels invasive, almost, from how rough he plays with you, sucks on your tongue. He takes the opportunity to ram into you, enjoying the way the pitched whine rolling out of your mouth gets tasted by him.

“Missed my cock, didn’t you?” he smirks. “Still the best you’ve ever had, right?”

“Y-Yes,” you sob.

His gut fucking melts.

Your mascara was getting smudged, not smudgy like he’d see in porn, but blending in the rim of your wet eyes. Dew-drop lashes.

“Feels best like this. Wanna see your face when you cum for me,” he pants. 

Your hands are on his shoulders, clinging onto him. He’s so much bigger than you, especially like this — your legs spread, his big hands gripping your thigh hard enough to hurt a little. You moan. Your voice sounds girlier than usual, wounded. You don’t recognize yourself. 

“Oh, it’s too deep—”

“No such thing,” Satoru snickers. “You’re – hah – so good at this. Good girl.”

“S-Satoru, it’s too–”

“You love it. Tell me.”

“F-fuck — I,” – you struggle mindlessly, voice strained – “I love it…”

“I know, baby,” he coos. Kisses your forehead, which is hilariously domestic and gentle considering the mean pace of his hips. 

He grabs your chin and makes you look up at him. You’re so fucked out. He’d ask you to take a picture if he wasn’t so focused on making you cum.

“You want to cum, don’t you?” he taunts.

“Please, please, please—”

“Okay, honey,” he chuckles. “You can cum now.”

Your moan is louder than expected as your cunt squeezes him impossibly tight. You can feel all the warmth rush out of you. You really are a sight to behold, which is why Satoru cums immediately after you. You feel like you might pass out. 

He kisses you all over your face, mumbling praise as you come back to your body. It’s all most nonsensical, but you swear you hear I love you. Your half-lidded eyes close as he envelops you with his arms, mascara streaking his shoulder.

He opens his mouth to say something but gets interrupted by a succession of loud knocks.

“Other people need to piss!”

Satoru scoffs, pulling away from you to slide his pants back up and buckle them. He mouths something to you that you don’t understand and leans down to grab your underwear to give to you.

“Just a second!” Satoru yells. “My wife is sick, had a bit too much to drink. Almost done.”

“Wife?” you whisper, bewildered.

Satoru eyes soften in amusement. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

[pinkmirth]

⸻ 𝐸𝒳𝒞ℰ𝒫𝒯ℐ𝒪𝒩!

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ⨾ isaac’s contempt for humans is unshakeable. though maybe, just maybe, you can convince him there are still a few good souls left— that you could be of the utmost value to him.

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ⨾ ( 1k+ words of . . . ) isaac laforeze x fem!reader (black coded), canon divergent, set in the 15th century (1400s), nsfw/smut, porn with no plot whatsoever, unestablished relationship, hook-up, size difference, rough sex, mating press, gagging using a shirt, isaac is mean, explicit language, lowercase intended, not proofread, minors shoo!

𝑀𝒴 𝐿𝒪𝒱ℰ-𝒩𝒪𝒯ℰ! ⨾ this man has been growing on me, i cannot lie . . . he’s vengeful and cruel and that makes him sexy in my warped little mind >< to all the isaac fuckers, please enjoy! ❤︎

what the fuck is he doing? 

isaac has no clue. all he’s sure of is that right now, in this very moment, you lie beneath him. not in the way you’d imagine either, such as pinning you down and forcing that you accept defeat; but with clothes ridden and a gaze overtaken by lust. it isn’t only you that’s succumbed; it pains him to admit that he wants this too. 

to put it simply, the man’s bedding you— a malicious man who reserves compassion for no one, not even himself. isaac thought he had no appetite for these kinds of things. it’s much closer in his nature to pierce a forging dagger clean through one’s chest, send their spirit on a trip down to hell, and conjure up a better being out of them. he’s even considered turning you. but perhaps, he likes you just as you are. your devotion to him is admirable. he can tell that you love him— it’s terribly obvious, with how eager you are to please. as for whatever’s happening between you and himself, he isn't sure if he could even call it lovely.

it’s more of a rendezvous, as he’d like to put it. you’re there when he needs you to be, so sweet and forever pliant, and he takes full advantage of that. he isn’t fond of your kind, but you intrigue him, so he’ll give you a chance. if humans are good for anything, it can be to gratify him in the very least. 

you’re molded into the position that isaac has shaped you to take; at your back, legs coiling around his waist, with your dainty hands flailing in search of his firm biceps to grab onto. you like to think that you can handle the man, and you’ve surely slept with him quite enough times to accustom yourself. it’s just that tonight, he’s going so fast. he’s had a sour day, you bet. now he’s here at your chamber to take it out on you; not that you mind it. desperation coming from the likes of isaac laforeze is enough to get yourself off of. 

“mmph— forgemaster!” you whine out to him. he couldn’t care less.

“quiet.” isaac hushes you, bringing a large veined hand coming to press at your throat. he’s big, imposing, mean. you should hate him, considering that he likely, no, undoubtedly hates you . . . but his harsh pounding makes your brain melt away.

“don’t be a nuisance, just take me. it’s the only thing you can do right, after all.” 

he might be currently spitting venom your way, but you think he’s actually growing more of a liking to you. in truth, you might just have hopeful thinking (including an unhealthy attachment to the man.) before, isaac would only ever take you from behind so he didn’t have to see your ‘disgustingly shameless expressions,’ as he’d call them. he couldn't bring himself to bear witness to your glossy eyes. now, he’s got you laid on your back, so he can unleash the nastiest set of words straight into your face. 

apart from the bedroom, he isn’t necessarily rude. isaac speaks with poise, his accented tone forever calm. the forgemaster is nothing but well-mannered. yet, hatred still remains. you see it quite clearly— a fiery contempt that his eyes cannot hide. 

there’s a narrow bead of sweat that travels down the side of isaac’s face, his mahogany-red eyes focused on your core as he wrecks you, spearing you open time and time again. the man peers down at you with what you could only consider to be disdain, and such a look shouldn’t excite you so. it’s as if the wet squelch of your pussy is too vulgar, too loud for him. he’s ramming in with reckless abandon, and your cunt’s making a nasty mess all over his smooth, clean-shaven pelvis. 

he’s so fucking rough, uncaring of whether or not it hurts. his thighs are flexing along with his rugged thrusts, enveloping you within the security of his deep brown frame. between your body and his, you slip a hand down to rub at your neglected clit, since you know he isn’t about to go out of his way and do it for you.

you mewl with every jolt of his hips, and he’s had enough of the sound. isaac stops, takes hold of both your legs, presses them down to your chest, and keeps them there with his own weight. in this air-thinning position, he slips back into your heat. this time, with more control. his reign on you is stronger, and his thick cock is going so much deeper. 

“by god, just— fucking shut up.” his otherwise handsome face is twisted into a shadowed scowl. oh, how humans irritate him so. he prays that the lord can forgive him for his spiteful heart. “be good, just this once . . . don’t allow my patience to wear thin, woman.” 

not wanting to upset him further, you take your bunched-up top from your chest and bite into it, drooling over the fabric to keep yourself quiet. isaac almost chuckles. it’s simply air passing through his nose, but a laugh nonetheless. 

“you look better that way.” he grunts, bruising your soft-brown flesh with his grip, “when you’re being muzzled.”

you begin squeezing him rapidly, cunt fluttering in a way that tells him you’re closer than ever. you moan into the spit-riddled cloth and shut your eyes hard once you come all over him, leaving the both of you with sticky essence dripping down to your thighs. isaac’s climax soon nears, a lowly ‘fuck,’ escaping him. he pulls out instantly, allowing his cum drop onto your heaving tummy in hot spurts. the last thing he wants is to bring another poor soul to a world as cruel as this one. 

all is done, the highs pass, and your eyes meet. his own, colored similarly to the finest redwood, have softened just by a little. maybe you’ve fucked away some of his contempt. isaac brings a hand to his tattooed forehead, and wipes off his sweat with the back of it. 

“it’s reassuring to know that humans are useful for something.” 

© 𝑃ℐ𝒩𝒦ℳℐℛ𝒯ℋ! — all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ౨ৎ

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Prologue

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Prologue: Troublesome "Friends"

Summary: Saiki gives everyone the rundown on his "bothers," including (L/N) (Y/N).

Mouse Note: Welcome to A Not-So-Disastrous Romance! I am very excited to share this story with everyone, even if this fandom is very old. Truth be told, I wrote 11 chapters like three years ago, so the first few chapters don't have the level of writing I have now, but I ended up finishing this story and wanted to share it. For another point, I know that people view Saiki as asexual and sometimes aromantic, but I feel an affinity for him being asexual but demi-romantic, so I play it slow-burn. That being said, terrible beginning writing aside, I really hope everyone enjoys. Let me know what you think, commenting helps me keep writing, and I love interacting with people! Welcome to the story!

Quick Key: "Hello" -Saiki speaking telepathically Hello -Saiki thinking "Hello" -regular people talking out loud Hello -regular people thinking

            Saiki teleported to the roof to avoid Teruhashi and Nendou. One was troublesome enough. Two was insupportable.

            “Where’s Saiki? Huh? What’s going?” wondered Teruhashi, confused.

            I teleported without thinking. Saiki looked down at the crowd below him. People around me didn’t seem to notice me, but naturally, Teruhashi thinks something is strange. Well, Teruhashi, just think I was an illusion and forget about it.

            “Nendou!” remarked the pretty blue-haired girl upon seeing him.

            “Oh, wow, Teruhashi!” squeaked Nendou, blushing.

            “Have you seen Saiki?” asked Teruhashi.

            “What? My pal? No, I haven’t.” Nendou was too startled to think.

            N-no way…did he disappear? thought Teruhashi, Is it possible that I was the one seeing an illusion? She recalled what she had assumed of Saiki: “You’re so much in love with me that you see illusions of me, huh?” A light blush spread across her face. Don’t tell me I’m…No! I can’t be… She clutched her heart. Oh, no…What’re these feelings? Is it possible…that I fell in love…with Saiki?

            Oh, wow, thought Saiki as he deadpanned. This is not how he wanted things to go.

            He sighed and teleported to a nearby, empty alleyway. Sighing, he decided to go for a coffee jelly. With the new problem he had just acquired, Saiki decided he might as well enjoy a little bit of peace. He walked quickly in the opposite direction of Nendou and Teruhashi, even if it took him on a long route to Café Mami. For once in his life, he was lucky and didn’t bump into anyone on the way there. His luck ran out, however, as soon as he entered.

            “Saiki!” called a teenager with (H/C) hair and (E/C) eyes. They were grinning and waving.

            He couldn’t avoid them now; it would draw attention to him for being rude. He sighed and sat down across from them.

            This is (Y/N) (L/N). They’re another troublesome person who complicates my life. They even call me their friend and insist I use their first name. The worst part is I can’t read their mind. They aren’t dumb like Nendou, though. Do you see those earrings?

            (Y/N) had simple, metallic studs in their ears.

            They’re made of germanium, which apparently keeps me from seeing through them with my X-ray vision or hearing their thoughts with my telepathy.

            He had only realized this after he saw them during school and on the weekends and the only thing that was the same between the outfits was their earrings. Saiki wished he could get his hands on some germanium. Hearing everybody’s thoughts was tiring. That being said, (Y/N) being unreadable was…disconcerting.

            “Nice to see you, Saiki. Are you here for your usual coffee jelly?” asked (Y/N) cheerfully.

            The pink-haired psychic nodded. Yare yare…Why do I hang out with you?

            “Oh!” They brightened. “I guess since you’re kind of like my guest right now, I should treat you!”

            Saiki’s eyes widened in excitement. Ah, I remember now. (Y/N) treated him to, well, treats. That made them more tolerable than other people.

            Seeing his expression, (Y/N) laughed. They knew what he was excited for. “You’re more excited to see the coffee jelly than to see your friend.” They didn’t mind, though. They knew Saiki wasn’t one for being open or friendly, but they’d spent enough time with him to know he’d just leave if he really didn’t like him.

            He wanted to say that they weren’t friends, but even he had to admit, he thought they were pretty tolerable compared to most of the people who crowded around him. Sure, their bright optimism was sometimes exhausting to Saiki, but for the most part, they were pretty low-maintenance and understood he was an extreme introvert and liked time to himself. Plus, although they were energetic at times, but they understood when things were too much for Saiki. And, to be completely honest, he didn’t mind getting to be around someone he couldn’t hear the thoughts of. He could act like a relatively normal person.

            Saiki would never say all that, though. No way. No, the only thing he’d say was, “Coffee jelly is really good.”

            “Can’t argue with that,” admitted (Y/N).

            Their server, who coincidentally was Mera (probably trying to make money as usual), approached their table. She took their orders and headed to the kitchen to alert the chefs.

            “You look more annoyed than usual, what happened?” asked (Y/N).

            Saiki sighed. They unfortunately pay attention to me and can read parts of my emotions. It’s weird. Maybe they’re an empath. “I ran into Teruhashi.”

            (Y/N) laughed. “The only guy immune to her charms.”

            “She brings too much attention.”

            “You’re friends with Nendou and Kaidou. A bit of attention is inevitable,” teased (Y/N), leaning on their hand and grinning.

            “They’re not my friends.”

            “Uhuh, sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” chirped (Y/N).

            Mera brought their orders. Luckily, she hadn’t stolen a bite from either of the coffee jellies.

            “Mmmm,” hummed (Y/N) and Saiki contentedly at the taste.

            Peaceful relaxation with (Y/N). Just the way I like it. Saiki sighed happily.

Taglist:

@elaemae

@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

@w0mank1sser

@geminigengar

@noodleryworld

[inhuman-obey-me]

Human Nature

Word Count: 1330 Description: A sudden discussion about how humans blame demons for all their problems comes up one evening in the House of Lamentation. Turns out, demons don't like to be blamed for human nature. Characters, etc: Satan, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, MC -- with a little Asmo/MC at the end can be found on ao3 here

“What is it with you humans?” 

You look up from your D.D.D. with a quirked brow, turning to Satan who seems to be wearing an expression of exasperation – at least, from what you can see while his nose is buried between pages of whatever it is he’s reading.  

“What are you talking about?” 

The demon slowly lowers the novel, now looking rather sheepish. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean that in relation to you, it’s just,” He gestures to the viridian book in his grasp, “I get so tired of reading stories where humans blame demons for all of their problems.” 

“Oh, don’t get me started!” Mammon butts in, still laying upside-down on one of the other sofas in the common room as he scrolls mindlessly through Akuzon on his phone, sunglasses nearly falling off his head to the floor. “Forget just humans in stories, they do that shit all the time in real-life, too!” 

“Mammon, you probably have caused plenty of problems for humans.” Leviathan doesn’t even look up from his game, his fingers furiously pressing and pushing buttons with a loud click-clack-click that’s slightly maddening. 

“And ya haven’t?!” The second-born nearly tosses his phone as he twists to point an accusing finger at the other. “As if ya don’t get all smug about your name bein’ all over the damn place!” 

“H-Hey, it’s not my fault people are into sea monsters – oh come on!” The melody for GAME OVER. “B-but even with a good-for-nothing demon like me, humans like to create all kinds of stories and legends.” 

Shifting in your seat, you look around the room in amusement. “I mean, the stories had to come from somewhere, right? A sliver of truth in every lie, and all that.” 

“Sure, some of the stories have merit. Demons have influenced plenty of people, us included.” Satan shakes his head, placing the book to the side as he straightens up in his seat. “But there are humans who think any and all terrible things done by their own kind are somehow our fault.” 

“Right, like I’m not responsible for every greedy human who screws others over.” Mammon shoots the third-born a glare to stop him from interrupting. “But then ya got some humans going on about bein’ influenced by the devil, or demonic possession.”

“Aww, I haven’t done a possession in so long!” Asmodeus enters the room with a rather woeful expression, dropping a shopping bag onto a table before twirling around, a gleeful grin replacing his pout. “Now, what fascinating discussion are we all having here, hm?” 

“About how some humans blame demons for everything bad that happens.” You answer, resting a hand in your chin as you look at the Avatar of Lust with curiosity. “What are your feelings on that, Asmo?” 

“My feelings?” He places a hand on his chest, fingers splayed over his heart as a shadow of ire falls on his features. “Ugh, I’d say that humans are totally full of themselves!” 

“That’s rich coming from you, Asmo.” Satan rolls his eyes, earning an offended gasp from the fifth-born.

“But it’s natural for me, I mean who wouldn’t be if they had a chance to be me?” Asmodeus perches on the armrest of one of the sofas, one leg crossed over the other. “It’s true, though. I mean, I love playing games with some humans and all, but so much of that is in the past!” 

“Asmo, you still try to pull things all the time.” Leviathan huffs, ignoring his younger brother’s sharp look. “You probably aren’t helping.” 

“Excuse me, I don’t want to hear that from you, Levi. You’re the one who summons Lotan at the drop of a hat!” Asmodeus waves off the other’s protest, turning to look at you – you, who have just been sitting back and enjoying the conversation unfolding. “Us demons like to feed off all the negative energy that humans can produce, but that’s the thing – a lot of it comes from humans themselves!” 

Satan hums in agreement, also fixing his gaze on you now. “For example, we all in this room can sense if you’re feeling a really strong urge in our particular sin and even contribute to it, but we’re the Avatars, and we have pacts. Your average demon out there can tempt all they want, but temptation works best on humans that already have a proclivity to the sin or act in question.” 

“And a lot of the lil’ guys you see here, those real low-level demons? They’re manifestations of humans’ sins and negative energy. Meanin’ humans technically made ‘em!” Mammon is sitting up now, adjusting the sunglasses on his head as he leans on one knee. “So really, humans are to blame for those annoyin’ pests.” 

“I’m not arguing that.” You nod, remembering learning some of this in classes at RAD. “Well, I’m not really arguing anything, but I didn’t realize you all felt so strongly about this.” 

“Don’t get us wrong, we’re used to it. I mean, we’re demons, we have a reputation for a reason.” Leviathan shrugs, his focus going back to his console. “It’s more like a pet peeve.” 

“Just like how humans think angels are all innocent and good.” Satan’s words get a round of snickers from the room. “If a human really wants to blame everything bad on us, so be it. But then they only have themselves to blame if we lean into it.” 

It’s then that you remember hearing a story about Satan – a time where some human parents got angry and accused him of scaring their child, even though all he had done was return the child’s smile with his own. He ended up traumatizing the humans with his own anger, having them crying and begging on the floor for forgiveness, much to his delight. 

You wonder, had those humans even believed in demons before then? 

What of your own wrath? Your envy? Your greed? All of those feelings existed in you long before you came to the Devildom, and there were plenty of times you acted on them both then and now. Has it gotten worse since you’ve been here? It was hard to tell, though you did know the brothers’ got rather pleased when you did find yourself having a burst of pride, of desire. Who was feeding off of who? 

“I guess,” you muse aloud, “we’re all connected a lot more than we realize.”  

“That’s one way of putting it,” Satan hummed. “We just like to give humans a little push, now and then. Give them a taste of freedom, of what they want. After that, it’s really up to them what they do. If they choose the path that benefits us, well, we can’t complain.”

“Oh, what humans will do to get what they desire!” Asmodeus dramatically leans off of his perch, putting an arm around your shoulder. He gives you a rather mischievous look, lips curled into a smirk as he turns your chin towards him. “So, tell me, hon – can I tempt you into anything tonight?” 

“Get your damn claws off them, Asmo!” Before you can answer, Mammon is already up on his feet and growling at the sight. “You really think you can pull that with all of us here?” 

“Y-yeah, you can’t even charm them!” Leviathan voices his envy. “PDA Police!! Stop touching them!”

As the room erupts into familiar and frustrating arguments, you can’t help but feel some mischief swell in your chest – so you raise your voice. 

“Why, yes, Asmo. You can tempt me to something tonight. Shall we?”

The brothers fall silent, even Asmodeus staring at you for a moment before his lips split into a fanged grin. “We most certainly shall!” 

With a laugh, you find yourself running out of the room hand-in-hand with Asmodeus while the other three yell behind you. 

“You little devil,” Asmodeus snickers as he pulls you along, throwing a glance your way. 

With a grin, you respond: 

“I’m only human.”

[yoon-kooks]

paw prints & presents | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: You and Jungkook never discussed Valentine’s Day plans, but that doesn’t mean the night won’t include corny Valentine’s cards and you getting down on your hands and knees in pretty pink lingerie for him.

⛓️word count: 2.1k

⛓️warnings: catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, praise kink, dirty talk, oc is a horny lil brat, dry humping, sex on the couch, handjob, blowjob, face fucking, cumshot, she swallows, oc makes another ignorant comment about earl grey tea lol

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: here's a lil smutty drabble i wrote up for valentine's day! (you don't have to read the other p&p fics before reading this one)💖

You’ve been acting a little weird lately. Ever since February came around, you’ve been asking Jungkook about random shit like his favorite flower (lavender), his favorite romcom (none), his favorite day of the year (nonexistent), and his go-to boba order (you called him grandaddy for saying earl grey again). The most recent question was about his taste in lingerie (doesn’t matter because you’re hot regardless). 

But whenever he asks why you need to know these things, you just shrug your shoulders and pretend like you’re too busy playing with the cat to answer him. The way you always shush the kitten as soon as he enters the room leads him to believe the two of you are up to no good. 

It’s driving him mad.

At one point, he thought you might be sweetening him up for when you go behind his back and adopt another cat because “Lucy needs a friend” and “there’s a cute cow cat at the local shelter.” But something tells him you’ll save the cow cat shenanigans for another time. 

The thing is, he’s not completely clueless here. As much as he doesn’t want to think about it, he’s well aware that Valentine’s Day is around the corner. It’s not a day he typically celebrates, but he also doesn’t know how you feel about it yet. If it’s a big deal to you, he’d want to do something thoughtful to live up to whatever the fuck you’re secretly plotting. At the same time, the two of you still haven’t made it official, so perhaps you aren’t scheming anything related to the most romantic day of the year. Perhaps he’s just overthinking it…

…Or not.

A few days before Valentine’s Day, Jungkook comes home from class early and sees something he shouldn’t have seen. Your laptop is out in the open on his bed, but you’re nowhere to be seen—probably in the bathroom or something. He’s always been the kind of guy to respectfully look away from what’s on other people’s computers or phone screens. But it’s kind of hard to ignore the pink lingerie set you apparently just ordered. The lingerie you normally wear is a sexy black or a sophisticated neutral. But this baby pink one, with the tiny red hearts and bows, is way cuter than what he’s used to seeing you in. It’s giving submissive vibes, for sure.

The thought of you wearing that tiny thing on Valentine’s Day would automatically make February 14th Jeon Jungkook’s new favorite day of the year. And that alone is something to celebrate.

But how exactly is he supposed to celebrate? It seems you have your mind made up on surprising him with pretty pink lingerie, but what can he provide in return without being too cheesy? He’s terrible at shit like this. In fact, one of his exes broke up with him specifically because he wasn’t romantic enough. She wasn’t wrong, but it’s not like he’s going to rewire his entire brain to be romantic enough for someone else’s liking. Maybe that’s fucked up of him. Maybe a good partner would make sacrifices and force themself to change for the sake of the relationship if they truly cared. 

You’re different, though. With you, nothing feels forced. Rather, he gets an urge to do something nice for you, even if it goes against his natural tendencies. And right now, he wants to also surprise you with a little something on Valentine’s Day.

On the big day, he waits for you to leave for your afternoon class. That’ll give him plenty of time to put together the surprise. All he needs is some pink cardstock, markers, paint, ribbon, and a kitten.

As much as he hates cheesy Valentine’s cards, Jungkook finds himself pondering over what to write on the cardstock. Knowing you, it’s safe to go with something silly and funny. Thankfully, you’re an easy one when it comes to humor.

“Have a paw-esome Valentine’s Day, Mommy,” he writes in bold marker. You’ve been hesitant to call yourself the kitten’s mother despite raising her right alongside Jungkook. But it’s clear that you’re doing a good job. “Love, Lucy.”

He picks up the sleepy kitten, dips her paw pads into safe non-toxic paint, and adds her paw print to the bottom of the card like a signature. As the paint dries, he gives the kitty her first bath, blowdries her fur, and ties a pink little ribbon to her collar.

When the sun goes down, Jungkook rolls up the note and attaches it to the kitty’s ribbon like she’s some messenger pigeon. And then the two of them wait on the couch together, kitten loafing in the boy’s lap, for the door to open.

Five long minutes later, your keys jingle around as you unlock the front door.

“Go hide,” he whispers to the kitten who runs off into his room with a frisky tail in the air. She probably thinks he’s playing hide and seek with her like they normally do. Poor thing.

Jungkook makes himself comfortable on the couch again and pulls out his phone to look natural. Totally normal.

“Hi?” you say as soon as you open the door and see him sitting in the dark living room, his floating face illuminated by his phone screen. You hit the light switch as you kick your shoes off and look around for possible booby traps or jumpscares. It seems you’re very aware that the potential for a surprise is at an all-time high today. Then your eyes fall back on him. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” He scratches the back of his head.

“Like this.” You do the awkward pose thing people do when they’re very clearly failing to act natural. How do you manage to make even the most awkward poses look cute? Maybe your little black dress has something to do with it. You weren’t wearing that earlier when you left for class.

“What do you mean? I’m just here, sitting on the couch with my phone.” Damn, is it really that obvious?

“Ah, so you were here waiting for me to get back from class like a dog?” you tease as you climb into his lap and set his phone aside. Your new perfume is a sensual lavender (no wonder you asked him about his favorite flower). And your dress is so short all he can feel is skin when he grabs hold of your ass. “Don’t worry, I missed you too.”

You snake your hands around the back of his neck and devour his lips, his tongue, his taste. He’ll never get over the moans you make just from kissing him like he’s the finest dessert you’ve ever tasted. Or the way your tongue just laps him up like a kitten—

“Wait,” he says after forcing himself to pull back from your lips. The urge to put his lips right back where they belong is incredible.

“No, Jungkook, I don’t have any homework that needs to get done before we…” Your words trail off as you kiss him some more and roll your hips against his crotch. You’ll never let it go that he’s “the biggest nerd in the world” for always making you finish your homework before sex. Thank god you don’t have any tonight. Because his hard cock is already past the point of no return.

The secret Valentine’s card still needs to be delivered, though. And the poor kitten is still waiting for her daddy to come find her.

“No seriously, wait a sec,” he chuckles, lifting you off of him before walking into his room to scoop up the kitten hiding behind the clothes hanging in his closet. When he rejoins you on the couch, he passes the fluffball to you.

“Ooh, did daddy give you a bath? You look so cute,” You sniff her orange fur and find the rolled-up note tied to her pink ribbon.

Your face quickly goes from curious to smiley as you unroll the note and read the silly message. Jungkook reads it right alongside you as if he wasn’t the one who wrote it.

“Congratulations, it seems Lucy has accepted you as her mother figure,” he says in the straightest face ever.

“Paw-esome?? Mommy??” you giggle, turning to the boy whilst cupping his chin. “Is that what you think of me?”

“It wasn’t me, it was Lucy,” he shrugs. “Right, Lucy?” She meows in agreement.

Then he pins you down against the couch cushions and leans in to whisper, “You’re my baby girl, remember?”

Your face is flushed with color as you nod up at him. You grab a handful of his t-shirt and pull him in. He finds your neck and leaves a trail of little marks as your body heats up beneath him.

“I love the card, by the way,” you manage to get out between breaths. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t from me.” His gives you a few more kisses while running his hands along your dress. As hot as you are in that dress, he’d love to get his hands on everything hiding beneath it. “I didn’t even know today was Valentine’s Day.”

“Liar. You suck, you know that.” You pout for half a second before your horny eyes are showing again. “Guess you don’t want to see the surprise I have for you.”

“What is it?” he asks a little too quickly. He must sound like such a simp.

You sit up, leaning your tits against his chest, and say, “Undress me.”

Jungkook lifts the dress up and over your head to reveal the same lingerie set he saw on your computer screen the other day. Except now it’s on your body. And boy does it look good on you. It doesn’t matter that he already had a sneak peek at it and plenty of time to mentally prepare himself for this. He still can’t take his eyes off of his baby girl looking all pretty in pink. And he forgets to speak.

“What do you think?” You drop to your knees on the carpet and situate yourself between his legs.

“Hot,” is all he can say before you unzip him and get your hands on his hard cock.

“Good.” You wet your lips with a sly tongue. Your hands start stroking his length up and down as you eye his tip. “It was an impulse buy the other day when I was feeling so horny for your cock.”

“Do you need my cock that badly?” he asks, his breath getting rougher. 

You nod, licking your lips again. He’d normally make you wait a little longer before letting you give head, but fuck it. It’s Valentine’s Day, and his cock is his gift to you. You’re always begging to suck it anyway.

With a firm hand, he angles your chin up until his erection is staring you in the face. You wrap your lips around him and take him in until he hits the back of your throat. Your cute little gag doesn’t stop you from going right back in, bobbing your head back and forth, up and down his length. He decides to help by thrusting in and out of your throat.

When you stop to catch your breath, his glaze runs down your mouth. You make sure he’s watching when you lick it up and swallow before sucking him more. One of your hands grips his cock while the other travels down into your thong. He watches the way you rub between your legs and rock your body back and forth to pleasure yourself and him at the same time. 

You savor each and every drop of him as if it’s the last. Your lips glisten and swell with pleasure as you’re hard at work with his cock. There’s no way anyone else can look this good while doing what you do to him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, fucking your face faster. You moan something that sounds like his name, although it’s kind of hard to understand with a fat cock in your mouth.

At his breaking point, he pulls out and strokes his length until (most of) his cum sprays right into your mouth. You swallow it up while shooting him an awfully innocent smile. After catching his breath, he wipes up the bit of lust on your cheek and lets you suck it off his fingers. You’re such a good girl for him.

“You were so good, baby,” he praises you. You definitely need to be rewarded. “Should we watch one of those romcoms?”

“I thought you said you didn’t like romcoms.” You tilt your head. “We can find something else that we can watch togeth—”

“Pick your favorite romcom.” He shakes your suggestion off and lays you down on the couch so that you’re facing the TV. He hooks a finger on the strap of your thong and tears it off. With his lips just a kiss away from your wet pussy, he says, “I won’t be watching anyway.”

[eddwardharrison]

MOON HAS THE BIGGEST DOUBLE STANDARDS KNOWN TO TSAMS KIND

Ugh this is for the girlies that wanna rant about the lore… (AS THEY ARE IN THE SHOW, NOT OOC.) keep in mind this is NOT hate by ANY means. This is literally the equivalent to a pop-culture obsessed girly screaming over Love Island because her bitch didn’t get with the man she wanted /SILLY /POS

feel free to debate otherwise, this is an open space and will be maintained respectfully. :3

TW: All canon events including Depression, Su!c!d3, abu$3, etc. (sometimes i switch perspectives as if I’m talking to the characters — don’t mind that…it’s not directed at the reader I promise. <3 )

I HATE MOON WITH A BURNING PASSION. And that may be Eclipse screaming in the BACK OF MY SKULL but Moon makes me want to SET OFF MY LITTLE BROTHER SO HE ELECTROCUTES ME TO DEATH. LORD!!!!!! And I’ll explain why. Currently, I am missing out on ONE singular episode involving Moon and Eclipse that is probably a key factor in all of this, but after months of searching…I do not have it. Thus, my anger may not be fully pieced together, but THIS IS WHAT I HAVE.

Old Moon, New Moon, BOTH OF THEM. THEY ARE BOTH ACCOUNTABLE FOR HOW TERRIBLE ECLIPSE TURNED OUT. Instead of working himself to be better after Sun and Moon’s separation, he just decided “ykw a little lobotmy is okay, I’m sure.” And LEAVES Eclipse who is soon to form in Sun’s head. AND IT DIDN’T EVEN MAKE A DIFFERENCE! Moon was still a TERRIBLE brother (albiet, he was working on himself and things were not in his control all the time…ex: Killcode) and caused a LOT of his issues. And then when Eclipse formed he was so consumed by HATE that he took matters into his own hands.

LET’S DISCUSS ECLIPSE’S TRAUMA FOR A SECOND. (YEAH, HE HAS THAT….SHOCKER. Despite his constant denials, he very clearly has it. I’ve been studying this man since I entered this forsaken fandom. /silly) (MOON’S TRAUMA *IS* ECLIPSE’S TRAUMA.)

Imagine you’re Eclipse— before the separation. You and Moon are one person. You share the same feelings, the memories, the actions, the PAIN. You kill kids without WANTING TO, you’re shut out and you’re hated and nobody will help you so you’re SUPPRESSED in your own HEAD, forcing yourself just to BLINK. But, you still CARE about your brother, so you try your damn best not to move for HIS SAKE. You’re giving ALL YOUR ENERGY just to keep this CHILDREN’S BOOK CARDBOARD CUTOUT happy, and what does he give you?? NOTHING BUT AGONY! YOU GUESSED IT! Eventually, your labored sympathy will become hate. You act out, you lose yourself, and now suddenly you’re killing the very kids you just wanted to spend time with. OOPSIE DOOPSIE! OH WELL, THOUGH! A LITTLE BIT OF LOSS HASN’T EVER HURT ANYONE!

Separation day came, your final way out. You get to be SAFE, you get your own BODY, you get the chance to be FIXED, you’ll be ALIVE. YOU’LL BE *YOU*.

And then you wake up

and you realize

you didn’t leave.

You’re still stuck in that same body, unnoticeable, unheard, people are noticing your existence, but brush you off like a small error. You’re not supposed to be there. You knew this, but now other people were saying it too, but not in the way you meant it. You were abandoned by YOUR OWN BODY. This is where thought processes SPLIT. Eclipse is made of very limited parts of code from Sun and Moon, but is mainly depicted as “Moon’s Malice”, a string of code that caused him to be killing all those kids. Naturally, you can’t just stray away from this personality, right? You’re born to do it, it’s all you can think about, it’s all you feel, it’s all you are. Just “Moon’s Malice”. And so Eclipse rightfully played the part, but he wanted to be his own person. Adapting “Eclipse”, forced into a Sun’s body. Can we talk about how HORRIBLE it would be to wake up in your worst enemies BODY?! BODY DYSMORPHIA INSTANTLY! The whole “I’m quite comfortable in this body 🤪” quote from way back when - when Eclipse still had Sun was a LIE. He KEPT IT because he wanted an ADVANTAGE. He wanted REVENGE. He wanted to put Moon through the same amount of pain when HE LOST HIM BY MAKING HIM LOSE SOMEONE ELSE! YIPPIE! Not only that, but the bottled up trauma, anger, and hate that SUN CAUSED because of his HOGGING ASS KEEPING HIM AND MOON SUPPRESSED for so long, and he STILL isn’t free from that even as Eclipse. Eclipse at this point has spent his ENTIRE LIFE suffering under Sun and now he’s just being resourceful! So, he sends them a couple traumatic places yada yada he does his little dancy dance. He gets his own body, hunting for the star, yada yada yada.

AT ANY TIME POSSIBLE, MOON AND SUN COULD’VE GONE “hey, let’s make this work. Let’s help Eclipse. Let’s have a whole family.” Of COURSE Eclipse would DENY IT?! THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?? Let’s put that very same sentence in a way that Eclipse sees it. “Hey, Eclipse. Apologize for being a monster even though I’m the one that abused you for several years.” BRO???? I WOULD DECLINE TOO??? H-H-H-HELL NAH!!!

Let’s quickly take a look at Eclipse’s actions against Lunar — specifically, his lash out. Was he terrible for that?! Abso-fucking-lutely. BUT LET’S ALSO COMPARE AND CONTRAST TO MOON JUST REAAAL QUICK. Moon regularly did this kind of stuff REPEATEDLY, whether it was verbal or physical, direct or indirect, SHIT HAPPENED A LOT AND IS IMPLIED TO HAVE BEEN WAAY WORSE BEFORE-SHOW. Because Eclipse is a SINGULAR STRAND OF MALICE-CODE, HE’S OBVIOUSLY GOING TO RETAIN THIS TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE QUALITY. But you know what ELSE happened during that day? Eclipse walks away, goes to a pillar and considers APOLOGIZING. Did he? No. Is he bad for that? Of course. You will NEVER hear me say “Eclipse is a good person”, BECAUSE HE’S NOT. You’d have to be a MORON to consider that. HOWEVER, he can be UNDERSTOOD and RELATED TO. The path he went down is often a COMMON ONE FOR REAL FUCKING PEOPLE WITH PTSD. TO LASH OUT WHEN TRIGGERED! TO BECOME WORSE THAN BETTER. CAN YOU EVEN BLAME HIM??? As stated by MOON HIMSELF, Eclipse is INCAPABLE of growing and learning as a person. You wanna know why?! HE’S A SINGULAR STRING OF MOON’S FUCKING MALICE YOU MOLDY RAT CONGESTED WITH DISEASE. He IS incapable of it and to HELP HIM he needs help with his PROGRAMMING. YOU BUFFOON. Though not given the time to see if Eclipse would repeat these actions against Lunar again, he (as of our knowledge) hasn’t. Moon has done it over and over again and Sun is /still/ traumatized from the Old Moon’s actions when Lunar got over it ages ago. LUNAR IS CHILD CODED…LUNAR SHOULD STILL BE THE TRAUMATIZED ONE. Moon had FAR MORE of an IMPACT than ECLIPSE DID.

This is why Eclipse’s “redemption arc” only came after RUIN CREATED HIM. HEY GUYS!! I CRACKED THE CODE!!!! ECLIPSE V4 ISN’T REDEEMED BECAUSE HE SUDDENLY WANTS TO BECOME A GOOD PERSON, HE’S BECOMING MORE CALM, COLLECTED, AND RATIONAL BECAUSE HE’S NOT /THAT SINGLE STRING OF MALICE CODE ANYMORE./ He HAS other coding, he’s built from the GROUND UP BY RUIN HIMSELF. Ruin has basically GIVEN HIM the ABILITY to THINK THROUGH MORALS. HE IS /FAR/ MORE COMPLEX NOW. SOMETHING MOON COULD’VE DONE FROM DAY 1!!! BUT NOOOO…

Let’s all step back for a minute. Because Hate, is exhausting. Having an existence with nothing but anger is a very tiring thing. Eclipse becomes depressed as we see a few weeks coming into the Two Parter death of Eclipse. He gets tired, he ends up wanting to just give up and DIE and let the star literally eat him alive, and then he gets that vision of armageddon. AND THEN— SOMEHOW, FOR SOME REASON, HE GOES TO WARN THEM! EVEN WITH HIS IRRATIONAL TACTICS, HIS MALICE BASED CODE, HE /WARNS/ THEM. I cannot express to a normal human being how important that one selfless act is when it comes from someone who only knows how to be selfish. AND YOU KNOW WHAT MOON DOES?! HE KILLS HIM. HE CALLS HIM A LIAR. AND HE FUCKING KILLS HIM. /WITH/ HIS REPLACEMENT WATCHING. HE WAS REPLACED. BY SOLAR.

I love Solar ‘n all

BUT I’VE ALWAYS HATED SOLAR FOR ONE, ONE SINGULAR REASON. HE WAS PUT THERE BY MOON, SUN, AND LUNAR TO /REPLACE/ ECLIPSE. SO THEY COULD BE A HAPPY FAMILY WITHOUT THE WORK. SO THEY DIDN’T /HAVE/ TO HELP ECLIPSE AND THEY’D JUST LET HIM FUCKING DIE SOMEWHERE. I am so TICKED OFF BECAUSE OF THEM. EARTH IS /EVERYTHING/ TO ME BECAUSE OF WHAT SHE’S BEEN DOING FOR ECLIPSE.

EVEN SOLAR FLARE UNDERSTOOD ECLIPSE MORE THAN MOON. THEY’RE THE SAME FUCKING PERSON. THE SAME. PERSON. 😭😭😭😭😭😭

This is where shit gets so funny.

Throughout all of this, old moon DIES. HE DIES FOR /KILLCODE/ SO THAT /KILLCODE/ CAN HAVE A REDEMPTION. FUCKING. KILLCODE. THE MAN THAT SHOWED NO SIGNS OF BECOMING A GOOD PERSON UP UNTIL IT WAS A LIFE OR DEATH SITUATION. THE MAN WHO HAS NO JUSTIFICATION FOR HIS VILLAINY OTHER THAN JUST BEING A KILLCODE. WHICH IS FAIR, BUT ITS NOT TO BE COMPARED WITH ECLIPSE. So the very thing ECLIPSE /NEEDS/ is given to someone WHO DOESN’T EVEN DESERVE IT. But, Moon is Moon. So…self righteous even though he’s horrible and terrible and I HATE HIM.

NEW MOON COMES IN! REMEMBER WHEN /EVERYONE/ IN THE FANDOM WAS LIKE “YAAAY NEW MOON. OLD MOON SUCKS. OLD MOON KINNIES DNI. IF YOU LIKE OLD MOON YOU’RE A BAD PERSON.” N YADA YADA. It wasn’t this radical, but it was everywhere. I saw it in a bunch of posts and it drove me insane. (I do love old moon, and I’ve always preferred him over new moon (nexus)) Like — EVERYONE just decided “well he’s a blank slate now, so whatever! x3” while also completely ignoring the fact Old Moon /was/ improving, and his sacrifice WAS a great deed and very selfless. Eclipse has always gone through the same thing, at times you could barely even mention him because there were Lunar fictives roaming around who’d get PTSD from it. (Which is valid. This is not to discriminate systems at all.)

BUT ECLIPSE HAS ALSO HAD THESE SAME GLIMPSES OF LIGHT AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. From “I should apologize” to Sun and Moon finding out how much pain Eclipse was in to Solar Flare’s talk to “I’m tired.” to The Warning to his numerous deaths, to the (my speculation of) Eclipse’s attempt #1 to Eclipse’s attempt #2 to Eclipse freaking out and contacting Moon that he wasn’t supposed to be alive and something was wrong, to Eclipse making amends to Eclipse helping on his own desire, to Eclipse hanging out with Earth regularly (which he used to belittle her and insult her. He has CLEARLY changed.), to Eclipse being literally beaten up in a podcast and framed for numerous unspeakable things, to Eclipse BRINGING BACK SOLAR to Eclipse just leaving. The amount of times people could have seen ANY SIGN was IMPOSSIBLY DRASTIC AND LENGTHY. AND YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DID?? CONTINUED TO BELITTLE HIM AND KILL HIM. Eclipse only actually killed ONE character of importance, which was Lunar. (Which like oh my god dude but he did stab you in the back first…i guess…still…still fucked up…i cant defend you other than saying “it was really funny”.)

TELL ME. TELL ME WHY MOON GOT HIS REDEMPTION SO FUCKING EARLY WITHOUT BATTING AN EYE AND ECLIPSE HAS JUST BEEN FUCKING NEGLECTED?! MOON GOT TO GET AWAY SCOTT FREE, OLD MOON AND NEW MOON. EVEN THE NEW MOON ENDED UP BECOMING NEXUS AND TRIED TO KILL HIS FAMILY. WOWIE! WOWIE WOWIE DIDN’T SEE THAT ONE COMING!!! AND NOW OLD MOON IS BACK AND STILL EVERYONE IS JUST /HAPPY/. Moon has arguably had a BIGGER, MORE REPETITIVE, AND DEEPER impact traumatically when he lashes out. All Eclipse truly did was to LUNAR and then sending Sun and Moon on wild goose chases and races towards the star. Eclipse WON that star too and did NOTHING with it. BECAUSE HE’S FUCKING DEPRESSED!! AND HE HAS THAT RIGHT. Moon is AWARE that EVERYTHING is HIS FAULT. He has ACKNOWLEDGED THIS, YET HAS DONE NOTHING BUT MAKE IT WORSE. Moon is a VILE, SELFISH BROTHER. Not just to Sun, but to ECLIPSE. THEY’RE THE SAME FUCKING PERSON. You can’t just say “i hate myself….:emo:” EVERYONE ON THIS SHOW HATES THEMSELF BUT YOU COULD AT LEAST HELP THE FUCKING ORANGE VERSION OF YOU FIND A FUCKING COPING MECHANISM OTHER THAN REVENGE?? He’s been TAME SO MANY TIMES, SO MANY VULNERABLE POINTS and they NEVER TOOK ADVANTAGE OF IT TO HELP HIM. You can’t just try to help a person ONCE and then DROP THEM. That’s NOT HOW HEALING FUCKING WORKS. YOU /CONTINUE/ TO PRY, YOU STOP THEM FROM DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIORS, YOU STAY WITH THEM. LEARN FROM SUN YOU DIMWIT. ECLIPSE NEEDED YOUR HELP SO MANY TIMES AND YOU JUST STOOD THERE AND CALLED HIM A MONSTER??? YOU DESERVED TO WATCH SOLAR DIE. YOU CAN’T JUST REDEEM YOURSELF AND LET THE OTHER YOU WITHER LIKE FUCKING PAPER IN WATER YOU COURT JESTER. YOUR JOKES AREN’T FUNNY, THEY MAKE ME WANT TO RIP THAT FOOL’S CAP OFF YOUR HEAD AND STUFF IT INTO YOUR ESOPHAGUS.

NOBODY WILL UNDERSTAND ECLIPSE’S ANGER THE WAY I DO.

😇

I am so unhealthy about this man.

anyways, thoughts? Sorry if this is a little messy, it just kinda happens…letting out my inner alpha and all..🐺🐺🐺

(believe it or not this is actually not all of it, this is just on one idea.)

Once again noting this is all light hearted, just being wrapped up in the acting and how much I can understand a character and feeling personally obligated to stand up for him. Eclipse has touched my heart in a way nothing else has, and I will continue screaming about him until I wither up and die. Everyone can have different perspectives and ideas, this is what I see. AND I SEE INJUSTICE!! /silly

[artemis32]

Myriad • Aizawa

I kind of hate this, but also, it was fun to write - that being said, which character should i do next (after shiggy)

also, these will all be drabbles because I can't commit to fics. It just never works out

myriad masterlist

****

You were an enigma.

Aizawa, in all his years as both a Pro-Hero and a teacher, had never come across someone like you.

What was your quirk?

He'd been your teacher for nearly a whole semester, and he wasn't any closer to guessing the nature of your quirk.

The Quirk Registration Database had, shockingly, been little help. You were barely mentioned in the directory - your name was only accompanied by the vague mention of the number of quirks you possessed.

Two.

Was it a quirk passed down by one of your parents? A combination of both?

The longer he observed you though, the more certain he became that you were one of the few anomalies within society, someone who'd mutated a quirk, rather than had one passed down.

If pressed for an answer, he, quite frankly, wouldn't be able to tell what your quirk was. Of course, he had his suspicions (many of which were proven wrong), just like the other teachers and students (also wrong), but no one ever really knew for sure. And they wouldn't know until you told them yourself.

That same uncertainty that surrounded your quirk was a large part of the reason why you were paired against him in the semester's final practical exam.

With such an unpredictable quirk, the only way to truly gauge your proficiency as a hero was to take that quirk away.

It was more than obvious to everyone, teachers, and students alike, that your quirk was always active. It seemed instinctual, active without so much as a thought from you.

This time, Aizawa would test you, find out just how reliant you were on this mysterious quirk of yours.

****

Aizawa didn't curse, especially not in front of his students or fellow faculty, but he felt that, in this particular situation, it was warranted.

He'd been wrong. So laughably, terribly wrong.

Your quirk wasn't a crutch. Far from it.

He'd caught up to you quickly, neutralising your quirk almost immediately, and had gone in for the kill, capture weapon slicing through the air with a swift swoosh, and-

You'd evaded it.

Fast.

Too fast.

As far as he was aware, your quirk didn't include speed enhancements. Even if it did, your quirk was neutralised, made useless.

So why then were you so fast? How did you manage to evade his capture weapon in an instant?

He didn't have time to linger on it at that moment.

You were fast, yes, but he was faster.

Talent would only get you so far. In life, experience tended to trump talent.

As much as he hated it, he'd have to get in close.

He jumped down to street level, intent on ending things quickly.

****

He'd underestimated you. They all had.

Honestly, it was foolish of him to believe you relied on your quirk that heavily. It was clear to him now that while your quirk, whatever it was, might have been strong, your endurance and physical capabilities far exceeded even your fellow classmates.

It made him wander why you held back so much. Because you did.

The entrance exam, the USJ incident, even the sports festival - you seemed to hold back during all of it.

Aizawa didn't understand.

If your goal was to be a hero, to do well, why would you hold back?

You'd defeated him with little to no effort, barely breaking a sweat the entire time. He'd managed to wrap you in his capture weapon, with a lot more of a struggle than he'd anticipated, and it'd be pointless. The moment he blinked, your quirk had reactivated, and he'd been back to square one.

It was embarrassing - the fact that it seemed so easy for you to beat him and complete the exam without a quirk. Even your classmates had been shocked.

The only person who hadn't broken out into a cold sweat was principal Nezu, the small animal-like mutant cackling like a maniac, as if he knew something they didn't. He probably did.

****

"What exactly is your quirk?"

He'd finally reached his limit. He had to know.

Not only to satiate his curiosity, but also to determine exactly how they'd test you during the training camp. He'd held off for as long as he could, but enough was enough.

"Sensei?"

"Your quirk. What is it? Tell me."

You tilt your head, looking an awful lot like a small cat, even with that ridiculous blindfold he was certain you couldn't see through. How could someone so formidable in combat look so innocent?

"You don't know?" you ask, mouth pulling upward into a small grin.

Irritation creeps into his expression, making his brow twitch. You seemed shocked, amused, as if you'd given him any sort of indication regarding your quirk. To be frank, certain aspects of your personality grated his nerves.

You were, to put it bluntly, annoying. Childish beyond words, playful, and you often tended to tease others to the point of furor.

"No. I don't."

"Oh. Well, I have two quirks."

You speak slowly, as if using big words would confuse him.

He feels his jaw tick.

“Yes, yes,” he says impatiently. “I know. But what are they?”

“I can’t just tell you sensei. That’s no fun.”

You’re still grinning, but your tone has taken on a whinier quality, one that makes him rethink his choice to become a teacher. He feels a headache developing in his temples, fingers uselessly massaging the throbbing area as he groans.

“Just tell me.”

“Nope. I’ll give you three hints, and you can guess!”

Aizawa grinds his teeth together.

She’s a child. You don’t hit children.

Patience. Have patience, he reminds himself, sighing heavily.

You were like a more annoying version of Mic, except Mic didn’t make everything a game. You were like a toddler stuck in a demons body.

“Fine,” he sighs again, gesturing for you to continue.

You hold out your hand, holding up one finger.

“Hint number one!” you say, in a tone similar to a game show host.

“I’m like Buzz Lightyear!”

That’s… extremely unhelpful.

“Buzz… Lightyear?”

You pout slightly, flopping down into a chair opposite his desk with a groan.

“Aw, maaaan, you’re no fun sensei. How old are you anyway?”

A noise of disbelief rumbles through his chest.

“That’s not- Obviously I know who Buzz Lightyear is! I just don’t see how that’s relevant!”

That infuriating smirk finds it’s way back onto your face, and you kick your feet up on his desk while you lean back in your chair, the absolute picture of nonchalance. From somewhere inside your blazer pocket, you pull out a lollipop, mindlessly gnawing the red candy.

“Fine. Next hint then.”

You show him two fingers, head lolling back as you speak around the lollipop in your mouth.

“I’m like a dragonfly.”

Aizawa closes his eyes, a disgruntled sigh of disbelief escaping him despite his best efforts.

“What do dragonflies and Buzz Lightyear have to do with one another?”

You shrug, biting down on the hard candy, crushing it between your molars.

“Nothing.”

A toddler. An infuriating, know-it-all toddler. That’s what you are.

“Just… give me the last hint.”

You hold out three fingers.

“I’m like a combination of pi and… Hm…”

You pause for a moment, sitting up straight.

“And a sonar scan!”

“I give up.” Aizawa responds plainly.

“What?! But you didn’t even try to guess!”

He shrugs, arms crossed over his chest. “I give up.”

Your mouth pinches into a scowl, and he was sure that if you weren’t wearing that blindfold, you’d be frowning.

“Tell me, or don’t. I have no guesses.”

“Not even one?”

“Nope.”

You groan and slump in your seat, grumbling about how boring he is, and he has to fight to hide a small smile.

Okay. Maybe you were endearing. Slightly.

“Fine! You’re no fun.”

****

To say he was overwhelmed was a gross understatement.

Your quirks were terrifying. There was no other way to put it. They were powerful, and overwhelming, and just plain terrifying. You really had been holding back all semester.

When he asked why you hadn’t told anyone about your quirks, your response was simultaneously simple and off-putting.

“No one asked.”

As if you’d expected them to.

But… you had a point. In the entire four months you’d been in class 1a, no one had openly approached you and asked what your quirk was.

Come to think of it, you weren’t exactly friends with any of your classmates either. Was it because they were thrown off by your mysterious quirks or your personality? Maybe.

Now that he knew though, he felt strangely… protective of you.

It wasn’t as if you needed his protection or concern.

Regardless, he decided that during the summer training camp, he’d pay you some extra attention. Not to help you improve your already flawless quirk, rather, he wanted to… observe you. You’d piqued his interest.

[rayclubs]

Which tf2 merc do you think gets mischaracterized the least?

Good question! Let's do a rating.

In my opinion, there are three aspects to characterizing someone.

Facts - you have to get basic character backstory right. This includes all objective canon truths, events, and, well, facts about said character.

Behavior - you need to understand how the character acts, how their interpersonal relationships function, what they're like in their day-to-day life. This is the nitty-gritty of fanfic and fanart, this is dialogue, line-to-line characterization.

Integrity - you need to understand the character's core beliefs and principles, what their values are and how they view the world around them. This isn't something you can easily quote or point to as a mistake in fanfic, it's more of an overall idea of a character.

Each of these is going to be worth up to three points, with zero for terrible characterization that gets everything wrong. This would ideally total to nine points. I'll be awarding an additional bonus point for character interpretation that doesn't make me scream "he would not fucking say that". Let's go.

Scout:

His backstory is fairly simple. He has an absent father, half a dozen siblings, and a crush on his boss who doesn't reciprocate. People mostly get this right, except they also call him a virgin despite the fact he canonically lands the fried chicken queen, and seems to do it with ease. 2/3.

His behavior is also mostly portrayed accurately, in that he's loud, obnoxious, self-absorbed, and can be kind of a dick, though not completely without endearing qualities. The fandom is, admittedly, guilty of making him more insecure and self-conscious than he actually is, to amp up the drama. 2/3.

His core values, however, are completely off. The main interpretations I see of him are "depressed Scout", "homophobic Scout", and "baby Scout", neither of which is true to his character. This is a grown man with a force-a-nature complex. The homophobia is just projection and internalized prejudice, but that phenomena is too complicated for me to dissect here. I talked about it before and might make another post later. Anyway, 0/3.

Scout does not get a bonus point. He would not fucking say "poggers" but he would say "daddy-o".

Overall characterization score: 4/10

Soldier:

Very little is known about Soldier's backstory so there isn't really any room to be wrong about it. What we do know is also vague and unreliable, so it's open to interpretation. Given how little room for error there is, I'll give him a 3/3.

His behavior is completely off in most cases, often shown to either be overly aggressive or so dumb you start to question how this man functions in his day-to-day life. Canon Soldier has plenty of endearingly stupid moments but a lot of them can be read as deadpan jokes on the character's part, and many turn out to be secretly clever moments, such as him infiltrating the robot base with a goofy cardboard disguise. Likewise, canon Soldier has plenty of aggressive and mean moments, but he's not cruel and very clearly not a threat to his teammates, which isn't captured at all in fanworks that decide to go that way. 0/3.

Soldier's core ideals are mostly captured well, as in - yeah, he calls people communist as an insult in fanfics. I feel like he should mention God more often than he does in fanon, it's, like, one of the two ideologically meaningful things he ever talks about. The importance of "America" as a concept to him is mostly preserved but left unexplored. 2/3.

Soldier does not get a bonus point, he would not fucking say [homophobic slur] yet here we fucking are.

Overall characterization score: 5/10

Pyro:

His backstory is nonexistent yet people still fuck it up. His technical knowledge is clearly extensive and impressive, as shown by the complexity of his weaponry - which, mind you, looks HAND MADE - but people treat him as if he's altogether incompetent and maniacally stupid all the time always. He also ran an engineering company for hell knows how long and people just forget about it because they're allergic to adults or something. God this pisses me off so much. I mean for fuck's sake, people act like his full job description is "Pyromaniac" and not "Pyrotechnician". I'm so tired. 0/3.

His day-to-day characterization and dialogue is also completely off. People treat him as if he's INCAPABLE of communication, make him obsess over childish things he's only shown a moderate liking to in a manner that's borderline creepy and insulting, and take away his whole entire agency in everything he ever does. I will literally not give y'all a single point, you do my man Pyro so dirty. 0/3.

His ideology is complex and vague in canon, and I don't blame people for getting confused by such things as Pyrovision, but FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. In my time on Ao3 I've seen animal Pyro, cryptid Pyro, monster Pyro, alien Pyro, evil mindless maniac Pyro, incompetent baby Pyro, nonbinary Pyro (HENCE MY PROBLEM WITH THE HEADCANON, do you see how it looks next to all these other interpretations?) but I've rarely, if ever, seen competent adult Pyro with actual hopes and dreams and agency. 0/3.

Pyro does not get a bonus point because he would not fucking say "uwu" but he would say "fuck", let Pyro say fuck.

Overall characterization score: 0/10 are you fucking surprised

Demoman:

Oh poor lad what have they done to you. So, Demo's backstory is arguably the most detailed and fleshed-out in the entire canon. Too bad nobody fucking read it. Admittedly, in the recent years I've seen people mostly manage to remember he has several jobs and is overall a competent and successful man, but it's rarely - if ever - explored, I've seen exactly one fic where the author bothered to explore what one of his other jobs might be (and it was not a good fic for many other reasons, don't ask me for a link), and it honestly feels like people don't want to dwell on it? Like, they mostly mention it to fill a quota, y'know? Here, I'm not racist, I've acknowledged one of this character's achievements, leave me alone. Also the subject of him being fucking adopted as a kid never comes up. 0/3.

His day-to-day characterization suffers a lot because people think alcoholism is the most morally repugnant thing that can ever happen to a human being. This man honestly barely even has a presence in the fics he's in. Are you wondering where Demo is? Well, he wasn't there! He was BUSY! He couldn't come! There is a handful of writers who bother to write his actual inner monologue and point of view, and this point goes out to them only. Also there was a pretty good Boots and Bombs fic in which Demo was a dick to Soldier but then got better, and it stuck with me. 1/3.

His core character is fucked up by fandom because he's either all flaws or not allowed to have any flaws, and there's no in-between. Ever since I joined the fandom I've seen a lot of critique floating around, and people mostly seem to listen and realize they've been mistreating the man for long enough, but it created a whole separate problem of Perfect Demoman which is bland and boring. People don't want to write an offensive caricature but don't feel like fleshing him out either, so they just make him great at everything and never let him fail and grown in ways that are meaningful. Except that one fic I mentioned earlier, but I've already awarded a point for that. 0/3.

Demo does not get a bonus point. I couldn't find a meaningful example of bad dialogue because, like I said, he has no presence in any of the fics he's in. He would fucking say something.

Overall characterization score: 1/10 and honestly it's too generous on my part.

Heavy:

Okay so Heavy's backstory really confuses people. I've got like a dozen asks in my inbox when I called his father a revolutionary AND a counter-revolutionary. Wait till I call him a royalist, it'll blow your tits clean off. I don't feel like explaining the history of the communist regime in the USSR on this post, let's just say people are mostly faithful to canon but don't really "get" Heavy. 2/3.

His day-to-day characterization is plain bad. He's treated like a mother hen to the mercs when he's more of a stoic friend with a mean streak and a crude sense of humor. I think the main problem is the dialogue, people just can't give him the dignity of speaking in an intelligent manner. It's honestly also pretty bad in the comics. 1/3.

His core ideals are fine, if oversimplified. He's not a complicated man, he loves his family, his guns and his doctor. People rarely give him any more depth than that but it's not offensive to his character or anything. I feel like he should have more political opinions than people give him. I also feel like people make him way more protective of Zhanna's romantic pursuits, to a creepy degree. I mean, yes, he's annoyed by her marrying Soldier, and seems horrified for a brief second, but it's not like he's against it or anything, he's just kinda surprised? Anyway, 2/3.

Heavy does not get a bonus point because he would not fucking say "da". Pizda.

Overall characterization score: 5/10

Engineer:

Yeah people mostly get him. He's got 11 Ph. Ds. Some treat him like he grew up as an actual cowboy or something but most remember he's a nerd. I'd actually give all the points here because Engie's backstory is NOT complicated. 3/3.

His dialogue and day-to-day characterization is also okay, though people really mellow him down a lot. I had a bit in one of my fics where he said something like "let's teach those sumbitches how the real killin' is done" and like three different people commented on it saying they liked or were surprised by his mean energy. It's not even that mean, I think it kinda shows my problem with his interpretation. 2/3.

I asked about mischaracterization once and a lot of people replied "Engie is the most mischaracterized because people treat him like he's good but he's actually evil" which I think pretty much covers it? It's hard to write someone who is not implicitly strictly good or strictly evil. Engie treads this balance really well, I'm actually convinced his demeanor is not a facade, he is nice at times and mean when he wants to be. Fanon Engie can only be one of two things and neither is right. 0/3.

Engie gets a bonus point as an exception. I actually can't tell why, people just have his voice on-point. Is his accent and manner of speaking really that easy for you? I struggle to write him a lot. I think he should say "bitch" more.

Overall characterization score: 6/10

Medic:

People focus on the fact he lost his medical license more than on the fact he HAD a medical license in the first place. Other than that he really doesn't have a backstory. I dislike that people try to give him a sad one, I think he grew up loved and maybe even a little spoiled, but I can't fault others for not following my headcanons, so. 2/3.

His dialogue is the WORST because it's written phonetically. His goofy yet self-confident energy isn't captured well at all. The best I can put this is "people wife him" but it sounds kinda mysogynistic so really I'm at a loss. Submissivepilled breedablemaxxer. 0/3.

His core values are also all over the place. The complicated thing about writing Medic is that he actually doesn't come with pre-packaged drama. His backstory is vague, his demeanor is optimistic, his vibes are fun, and the worst thing that happened to him in canon was working with the classics for a bit - people amp it up to squeeze hurt out of it, which is fine, but not many people actually like going there. Thing is, fanfic writers aren't that good at writing drama when it hasn't been established before. They have to warp his character, make him edgy, self-conscious, or plain mad evil without redeeming qualities. I remember really struggling with my big Medic fic because I wanted it to be dramatic but had to put a lot of work into actually building up the emotion, because Medic is fine. He's fine. He's alright. He's fine. He's doing well. 0/3.

Medic does NOT get a bonus point, he would not fucking say "babygirl" and I'm not even sure if he would say "yass queen slay" I'm SORRY

Overall characterization score: 2/10

Sniper:

People mostly get his backstory right, probably because it's the most well-explained in the comics and it gets the most "screentime". It's also literally a Superman parody which is funny and memorable in concept. 3/3.

People can't find a good balance between stoic professionalism and social anxiety. I think Sniper is actually pretty simple, in that he's a little self-conscious which pushes him to actively better himself as a professional, but also makes him a little awkward so he comes across as standoffish and a little mean. He's a solid bloke that's balanced and feels real. Fandom has to go for the extreme every goddamn time with him. It sucks. 0/3.

People kind of get his drama, his relationship with his family and whatnot - mostly because a lot of us losers can relate, I bet - but, again, go for the extreme in making him anxious, whiny, and sad as a wet kitten. Unless it's a porn fic in which case he's an absolute freak that growls at people. I don't know what it is about Sniper that makes him so difficult to characterize. Manic pixie dream boy. Dark and moody lover love me like no other. 0/3.

Sniper does NOT get a bonus point because he doesn't say "cunt" nearly as often as he should. Also send me asks about my Sniper takes I want to stir up some shit.

Overall characterization score: 3/10.

Spy:

The only piece of his backstory we actually know is that he fathered the blight of the earth that is Scout TF2. 3/3.

His obnoxious and insufferable demeanor is mostly captured well. A lot of his portrayals aren't nearly as classy as people think they are, but that's because most authors are themselves proletarian, myself included, which is fine. Not many make the effort to pepper his speech with French words it would actually be natural for him to say, and blame it on the nonsensical complexity of the French language, but I'm not buying it as an excuse. 2/3.

His core values are off in regards to Scout - he's often portrayed as soft, mellow, overbearing, and critical of Scout's love life to either a comical or an uncomfortable degree. His fandom portrayal often also lacks the self-confidence he's demonstrated in the comics. Spy is not above strangling a man with a chain that holds the shackles around his ankles, he wouldn't consider it a blow to his dignity to fuck any of his coworkers either, come on. He's also funny and goofy but the fandom tends to neglect that. 1/3.

Spy does not get a bonus point because he would not say "perchance" but he would say "your mother".

Overall characterization score: 6/10

The final scores are:

Spy - 6/10

Engineer - 6/10

Heavy - 5/10

Soldier - 5/10

Scout - 4/10

Sniper - 3/10

Medic - 2/10

Demoman - 1/10

Pyro - 0/10

There we go! Pyro is the most mischaracterized, Demoman is a close second, and nobody is characterized well. Cheers!

[haikyu-mp4]

I just woke up in a sweat with the idea of a fake dating fic with Korai where he and the reader are “pretending” a little too well INCLUDING when there’s no one around

Then I saw they your requests were open and the speed at which I typed this is almost embarrassing lol

the way I saw this first thing in the morning and skipped breakfast to start drafting, I am forever thankful for how this request had me daydreaming. I'm sorry it still took me so long<3

Faking it

word count; 1116 – f!reader

Hoshiumi had gained quite the reputation as a volleyball player who can be both too prideful and too unfiltered, especially in his interviews. The Schweiden Adlers’ PR managers were pulling their hair out trying to media train him, and he was way too good of a player to let go of for something like that. Not that he was absolutely terrible with the media, but he could get a bit loud, especially when compared to his teammates, which he often was.

So when he takes you, one of his best friends since high school, out for ice cream on a particularly hot day, the paparazzi were snapping photos like crazy, and he made headlines the next day along the lines of Has the Adlers’ hothead found someone to keep him cool?

To say his managers were ecstatic would be an understatement, so when he asked them to handle this scandal so you don’t have to get involved in anything, he was met with hesitance.

“We were going to suggest, as most of the news articles seem rather positive, that the two of you should keep this up for a while. Pretending to date. Smooth out your reputation until it would be natural to find you wanted to stay friends or something.”

Hoshiumi’s heartbeat quickened, and even though his mind tried to tell him it was anger at the suggestion of involving you, his heart recognised it as the song it sang every time his eyes met yours. A distinct kind of nervousness. His fists were clenching and unclenching, trying to decide what he felt. “It’ll be up to her, but I can ask.”

The managers at hand did a little childish cheer, making Hoshiumi huff with a smile before asking if there was anything else and leaving when they confirmed no, not until he had a clear answer to their proposition.

His hands were cold. How do you ask your best friend to fake date you?

You’re in the Schweiden Adlers gym, practising spikes as Kageyama had to attend some birthday tonight instead of extra practice. In high school, you had played as the setter, and you got used enough to setting for Korai throughout your friendship. You also had a nasty float serve he liked to practice receiving, so he didn’t mind practising alone with you at all.

Not usually at least, when he didn’t have such a heavy question resting on his mind.

“You’re not dating anyone, right?” Hoshiumi asked before throwing the ball for you.

You puffed out a laugh, setting the ball and accidentally making it a bit too short. No matter, he jumped for it anyway and you heard the satisfying smack of it hitting the floor on the other side of the net. “You know I’m not,” you said, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is this about those headlines?”

He laughed a bit awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. “Kind of, I wanted to ask you something.”

You gestured for him to throw another ball, so he followed your lead and jumped for it, noticing that this spike might have landed outside the line.

“Let’s do serve receives instead?” he suggested first, hoping to put some space between the two of you. You were the only person who could make him nervous like this.

“Sure, I don’t mind.” You shrugged, gesturing for him to move across the court so you didn’t have to move the ball basket. As he readied himself to receive, he finally felt like he was catching his breath.

He took a deep breath in as you threw the ball in the air, and he knew it would be a floater so he stepped forward. “We should date!”

“Huh?” you yelled, practically spiking the ball instead from the surprise and sending it flying right into his head because he too, had been surprised by his own words.

But as you held the ice pack to his head and the two of you laughed, he managed to explain the actual plan, and you agreed.

The only right way to start this fake partnership was movie night with any movie containing the trope of fake dating. You sat beside each other on your couch, laughing at the silly parts and pointing out things you would like to do together as a joke, of course.

Which inspired your first outings to the public. You went for another round of ice cream, and this time emphasised your laughter. You even poked his nose with your ice cream before wiping it off and kissing that spot after. The cameras were clicking and you made several smaller headlines.

As you read a sports gossip magazine one evening, Hoshiumi rested his head on your shoulder to read with you and nosed at your cheek without thinking about it. As you giggled at his reenactment of the best dramatic lines, you turned your face to his. He turned to you in response and made the mistake of glancing at your lips. Your breath hit his chin and he breathed out shakily before quickly pulling away.

‘It’s fake dating, Korai’ he scolded himself a few minutes later, angrily brushing his teeth before rolling out the futon beside your bed and going to sleep.

It mostly went well for the next week, but Hoshiumi couldn’t stop noticing that you kept faking behind closed doors. If it was natural for you to act that way, and it was natural for him to return that energy, is it still faking?

Hoshiumi’s knee bounced as he sat beside you on the park bench where his managers had arranged for paparazzi to find him with you for the ‘last stunt’ that would seal the deal and make the gossips leave him alone. You were humming under your breath and Hoshiumi clutched your hand in his as you pointed out where you theorised each passing person was going next.

You suddenly stopped talking and turned to Korai again, tilting your head. “Korai?” you asked softly. “Are you okay?” Your free hand lifted to the side of his face, affectionately adjusting some of his hair even if it was so short. He supposed the wind was doing him dirty, but all he could think about at the moment was if you were faking or not.

“I’m not faking,” he said, almost too loudly. You straightened up in surprise but clutched his hand tighter.

“What?”

“Whether I hold your hand outside, or lean on your shoulder when we’re at your place, I’m not faking,” he declared with that familiar determination.

You giggled, finally leaning back in. “Kiss me like you mean it then,” you whispered. “Because I’m not faking either.”

masterlist

[genovianxprince]

OK I think I understand some of why some people in the fandom choose to make Mystra some kind of a terrible, grooming abuser to Gale. It's because every one of the companions has like a specific person you can point to and say, that is the abuser. That right there is the person who has caused the companion grievous harm. Gale and Mystra are a little more complex than that.

Shadowheart and Lae'zel technically have a whole cult/culture backing up the abuse, but you can still pretty directly point to Viconia and Shar for Shadowheart, and ultimately Vlaakith for Lae'zel as well as just... every Githyanki she ever met, except for Kith'rak Voss.

Wyll has Mizora, Karlach had Zariel and Gortash, Astarion has Cazador, all very obvious and self explanatory in the game. They were innocent, kidnapped, coerced, sold, played like a damn fiddle. But Gale?

Gale has Mystra, a goddess he loves, who also loves him, and the things they did to each other were both fucked up, and a lot of the fault totally lies with Gale! The other companions all had external forces affecting them. Gale's was mostly internal. He refused to believe he was good enough. "As inconceivable as it seems to me now, I shared a bed with a goddess and I still wasn't satisfied." A literal goddess, the one he favored, the one he was in love with, who favored and loved him back, consistently told him he was perfect as he was and he straight up did not believe her. He placed himself on a higher and higher pedestal he could never reach the top of because if he wasn't constantly climbing to some nebulous goal of perfection, then could he be good enough for Mystra?

Y'know, instead of just believing the woman he was in love with. And I get it! Insecurities suck! Especially when you've been the gifted child your entire life, perfectly talented at something that all the adults in your life go nuts over. But also, it is extremely arrogant to assume you know better than your literal goddess and be like "yo, there's a missing piece of the Weave and I can go get it" like... Mystra is the Weave, she would have known and probably sent someone on a quest if it were actually Her Weave and not Karsus' Weave.

Gale is INCREDIBLY hubristic and he keeps falling for that trap. He's overconfident. Hell, even after his year in isolation where he comes out humbled, a small group of people believing in him for a short amount of time gets him to go "omg, crown of karsus = godhood, I can totally do that and tell the gods they SUCK and overthrow Ao's rules!"

Like, babyboy, no.

Of course, Mystra is not without some fault. After Gale's initial... Folly-up, she just ignores him for a year. Damn, girl, what the hell! Well. You see. The Netherese orb is a fragment of the magic that Karsus used to try to ascend and steal her throne with. The magic that she realized was going to kill everything if she didn't sacrifice herself. For a moment, all magic ceased to exist, including Mystryl herself, and Karsus died. Then Mystra came into being. Gale tells you a short version of this story himself! So it kind of makes sense that Mystra would see this shard of magic and just... kinda have a trauma reaction! And to gods, time flows differently. It wouldn't shock me to learn she didn't realize it had been a year by the time Gale left his Tower due to mind flayer shenanigans. Naturally, she does not want to discuss the thing she's so terrified of, and just tries to have it destroyed without her having to touch it—the plan to have Gale blow himself up on the Absolute itself, and she would save his soul. And even after he disobeys her instruction, she still allows the orb to feed on the true Weave! She still lets him live without fear of blowing up randomly, even though it greatly distresses her to let this magic that killed her once feed on her own life force.

Then he reaches the city, and reads The Annals of Karsus, and realizes she's going to have to explain, despite not wanting to. And she summons him. Tells him exactly what's in his chest. Asks him to turn over the Crown and she will destroy the orb and face her own trauma, because Gale... doesn't want to die. She understands that. And she still loves him and his big beautiful brain despite how stupid he's been, and she wants to have him as her Chosen again.

Things will never be the same, of course. They both fucked up. Gave each other a bad time. But in the end, they forgive each other and move past it. Not as a couple, because things broke too much for that. But they can have a healthy relationship as Goddess and Chosen once more.

And that is what sets Gale and his trauma apart from the companions. He doesn't have a direct abuser or live in a horrific abusive society. He almost killed the goddess of all magic a second time and she had an understandably harsh reaction to that, even if it was still too harsh. I just don't believe it's only Mystra who fucked up here. Not by a long shot. Much of it lies squarely with Gale.

And, as for the grooming allegations [as far as people trying to say it is canon], literally just no. She's a True Neutral goddess. Gale literally tells you that you are not his first mortal lover, he had a few before he ever fell into Mystra's bed, and you're just the first since the breakup about a year ago. The game doesn't shy away from sex and sexual abuse in the least. Why on Earth would this be something hidden behind several layers of nonexistent subtext? It's definitely fun for AU's, but by Ahghairon's lost nose, no, it's not canon!

[shadowtraveled]

would love to know your thoughts on rinsha dunmeshi. or on rin and kabru :-)

OH!! i love rin honestly lightning damage and unaffiliated spellcasters will get me every time.

i would have loved to see more of her, but i do really enjoy kui's style of storytelling where she gives us the information about a character that will tell us exactly what she wants us to know. it reminds me of the way someone described suzanne collins' writing as surgically precise—she has more information about characters and the world, but she included what would get her story across most effectively. kui gives off a similar impression, and i think rin is a good example of that.

sorry readmore because that was getting long already.

rin's backstory is really interesting to me because it helps us to extrapolate so much more about the world and the other characters in it.

for what it's worth, i don't think it's terribly likely that her parents were practicing ancient magic. they were immigrants of a visibly different ethnicity, though, and they were magic users, which othered them doubly in the northern continent, and that otherness cost them their lives. this is sort of a running theme in dungeon meshi overall ofc, but i think a lot of discussion surrounding dungeon meshi discrimination focuses on the elves. which is fair, since they seem to be the most significant world power and they're weird race elitists as elves in fantasy frequently are, but the story does not want us to forget that discrimination is complex and so is otherness. tallmen may not be respected by long-lived races, but in communities where they do have power, they're still perfectly capable of leveraging it against others. they seem to have a particular bias against magic, but really anything people deem weird or creepy is enough to land you in trouble: laios faced constant rejection and, in some cases, severe harassment just for being autistic; kabru's eye color was enough to push his mother to the fringes of society and get her accused of witchcraft, suggesting that "weird or creepy" is regularly conflated with "magic" in tallman societies; and falin's affinity for magic led to her isolation and ostracism as her mother frantically tried to suppress it. rin's parents, meanwhile, were outright executed. the nature of these reactions to anything unfamiliar or non-standard are definitely meant to convey something about tallman societies in the world, but i think rin and kabru's situations specifically lend some explanation as to why falin is so forgiving of her parents. they didn't really know what to do with her, and some of the things they did to her were harmful, but she seems to see them as trying their best to protect her, perhaps because she knows the emergence of her magic could have put her in immediate physical danger but didn't.

with that being said, i'm surprised rin doesn't have more of an aversion to tallmen, but maybe kabru made enough of an impression on her that she developed some hope for them.

her dislike of elves, meanwhile, is entirely understandable—her interactions with them seem to be framed as emblematic of how they treat short-lived races in a way we don't really see with the others. milsiril objectifies short-lived races but does seem to... kind of care, otta fetishizes them but seems to... kind of care, mithrun's squad only get to be patronizing for a bit before it becomes apparent they bit off way more than they could chew, and mithrun isn't invested in these designations anymore. but the elves that found rin treated her like evidence, then like a toy, and then they got bored and ignored her, and then she was evidence again, and then she got adopted out to elves who kept her like they would a pet. miserable fucking experience, and a very thorough and efficient way of expressing just how little the elves are socialized to consider the humanity of the other races.

as for her relationship with kabru... i'm glad they had each other around. it's impossible to be surprised that she latched onto him in her circumstances, and i think it's sweet that she was the one he stuck with (despite the implication that milsiril was raising other children alongside him that he ostensibly would have spent more time with).

i also love how apparent their closeness is! rin gravitates to kabru, and if i'm remembering right, most of the time she speaks it's to him. that immediately established to me that she is uniquely comfortable with him, and interestingly it goes both ways! it's less apparent with kabru, because he's a lot more social than she is, but vitally, he lets the mask slip with her. she's the only character he goes out of his way to tease, and sometimes he takes it a little bit into "alright that was kind of mean" territory, which sucks of him but is kind of the point. kabru's interactions with rin are the earliest ones where we see him fuck up or be a little bit of an asshole, and that's almost certainly because she is a person he feels comfortable enough with to not try to game every conversation. kabru being a little bit of a bitch is the first time we see him not trying to be charismatic. and she gives it RIGHT BACK lmfao it really conveys the feeling that these two are kind of "safe people" for each other, even if they're bantering a little meanly. very charming, top-tier childhood friend dynamic, no notes.

editing to add:

^ YEAH THIS IS IT thank you @gerrykeay i think this really captures the spirit of her revulsion with regard to things like magic school (and its graduates), etc... she seems to think of magic school as this sort of lofty opportunity only people with a certain level of social standing are able to access (which seems to hold a level of truth) and reject it on the basis that something like that is fundamentally incompatible with who she is as a person, and that's probably the same reason she remains unaffiliated despite knowing practicing magic without organization ties is potentially dangerous for her. these systems rejected and failed her family and her, so she rejects them in kind.... god i'm so obsessed with the way practically every character has a main character backstory and motivations this really is like a ttrpg lol

[genderkoolaid]

On April 27, 2023, an armed security guard shot and killed a Black trans man named Banko Brown outside of a San Francisco Walgreens. Brown’s killing sparked outrage. But San Francisco District Attorney Brooke Jenkins decided not to charge the security guard who shot him, saying that he acted in self-defense. And just last Friday, Attorney General Rob Bonta’s office announced that it supported that decision.  This announcement has crushed Banko Brown’s loved ones, including those who say that his killing was an example of the conditions that unhoused transgender people face in San Francisco. KQED reporter Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez sits down with Brown’s chosen family, to discuss life as a homeless queer person in San Francisco, and Banko’s life before his death. [...]

Kazani Kalani Finao: [...] We just had amazing, great conversations. Just always sparring with each other, bouncing back with, like, fun ideas. He uses a bright, outgoing apartment. Conversation was always immaculate, always amazing. Of he was a visionary. The struggle not only brought us together, but like I was able to, like, really build a relation with him based on, like, his gifts. He was very creative, his swag, his drip, like he was a trendsetter to me. He’s definitely inspirational to me to like, you know, him, me younger to me, like I always share with him. Like, bro, you give me so much confidence, you give me so much courage for me to be me. He didn’t even know it. But again, he was just natural at that. Whatever I remember of him is his drips, sauce, smile, hugs, goofiness. [...]

Xavier Davenport: Banko never had a space of his own. Banko had been in and out of shelter, in and out of people’s homes, sometimes even some people’s own [SROs]. So let’s really break down what that really looks like when you are living in a one room space with another individual. You do not have privacy. Nine times out of ten, being a transmasculine identif[ied] person, especially being black, you have to render some type of services to stay there, whether it be sexual, whether it be drugs. So when we talk about black men and being fetishized, Banko dealt with a lot of that. And so those people would be the people to take him in. [...]

Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: And can we talk a little bit about Banko in terms of the safety? You know, obviously Banko went through the least safe thing you could imagine with the most terrible outcome you can imagine. What was Banko experiencing in terms of safety during this whole process? Xavier Davenport: Banko was actually experiencing a lot of issues with violence happening in some of the places that he was trying to stay at. Nobody’s perfect, you know, especially when we’re talking about community, right? People have all kinds of issues and trauma that they are that they’re trying to live through as well. I definitely know that there were a few times where, you know, he was upset from violent experiences that had taken place. And what we all do, right, we get upset, we want to do something about it. So, you know, really trying to calm him down to, like, see a different side of it, for him to just move through the trauma that he was experiencing. Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: Yeah. And I don’t know how much you all followed kind of the public discussion of what happened to Banko afterwards. A lot of what I heard was a kind of a questioning of like, what did [Banko]’s trans identity or black trans identity have to do with the shooting, especially when the security guard themselves was was black. I wonder if you could talk a bit about for people who don’t understand what does [Banko]’s black trans identity have to do with what brought him there that day and what happened? [...] Xavier Davenport: [...] What what that all has to do with is when you are a young, black, transmasculine identified person, people see that he walks in, he’s dark skinned, he has a hat on a t shirt, he has a little bit of a, like a goatee or, you know, something growing in. And as another black man or being another man, there is a fight for power for who is the man. [F]or Banko, you know, the thought process is, you look like a little boy or you’re trying to pretend to be a little boy. Because let’s be clear, Banko had not had, you know, top surgery. He had not been going through that part of of medical transitioning. So you have a masculine person with visible breast coming at you. You are going to now struggle for your manhood. I’m going to show you who’s boss is something that for people that are even lesbians who are more masculine looking, [t]here is a struggle between men and any form of masculinity that they can see to them isn’t necessarily real. Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: So it’s a it’s like a challenge. Xavier Davenport: It is a challenge. It very much is a challenge. I know this first experience. I have dealt with this my entire life. JuJu Pikes-Prince: And if I can just highlight that it’s true. And these are cases that’s not getting covered [...] of Black Trans Men getting killed. [...]

Xavier Davenport: [...] I would say what needs to change is the systems in how they construct homelessness. There needs to be shelters specific for transmasculine folks. There needs to be shelters for trans people, period. But trans men need their own space. There needs to be more black, trans masculine leaders. There’s nobody else that can speak about black transness except for black trans people. Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: And how about the joy? What is your joy look like right now? Xavier Davenport: My joy looks like, you know, the rest of the work that I do. The Bay Area Transmasculine calendar is doing a second premiere of a calendar that we started last year with a group of Transmasculine folks to continue to ensure that Transmasculine folks are seen and can receive joy in seeing and having representation of themselves in all bodies, in all forms of trans masculine bodies, and in all forms of trans masculine and different cultures and ethnicities. Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: That’s beautiful. JuJu Pikes-Prince: [F]iguring out the funding, figuring out where money can go to. I definitely believe that there should be more programs for black trans men, even from our community. My [femme queens, my dolls]. We need to serve our [kings], our [trans kings.] [Sorry], I’m getting emotional. And it’s because I’m thinking about the joy part. [L]iving and finding purpose. Picking up someone else’s purpose when they couldn’t find their purpose. And knowing that I’m here and I can also at least set some type of story for someone [...] and hopefully help another next person, next generation to continue to do this advocacy work.

[clone-anon]

I miss Tech. I know you might not be able to write for awhile and I get that. If you feel up to it though could you please write a fic where Tech is able to come to Pabu after tantis and finds out the Marauder is gone. Maybe reader (platonic/aromantic) comforts him with hugs and memories tks

Hello! I have some pretty strong feelings about Tech and how we still didn't see him in the entire last third of The Bad Batch. Here is hoping he will come home soon. And in manifestation of this....

Tech x GN!Reader

Warnings: Mention of injuries, but nothing explicit. No indication of whether Tech was CX-2 or not. Tech lives, obviously!

You sat on the landing pad near the ocean. It was empty now, but the last few remnants of the Marauder were only recently removed. In the rush to get to Tantiss, the people of Pabu did their best to help clean up the mess from the explosion while Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair left with Phee. You were among them, trying to grab whatever you could and sort through anything that you felt the brothers would want to keep. There wasn't much. Thankfully Gonky, Lula, Tech's goggles and various pieces of armor were already removed when the ship exploded. You did, however, manage to find and keep one thing.

You smiled to yourself as you looked down at the yoke and the lever used to jump to hyperspace.

"You recovered it?" Tech asked as he approached.

"I did," you replied with a smile. "I thought you might want to keep it."

Tech sat next to you with a flinch and sighed.

"You okay?" you asked.

"I'm better today." He was still healing, but mostly there. His family had waited until he was better to tell him about the Marauder. He didn't take it well, although he tried to insist it was merely a ship that could be replaced. You all knew better, but it was Tech's way to try to process the information.

Tech reached for the yoke and you gladly gave it to him. He held it in his hands as he had done hundreds of times while piloting the ship. It fit his grip perfectly.

"I requested this particular part," he said. "I requested the modifications to the Marauder. I was nine, but argued that since they felt we were nearly ready for battle, we should be able to get the best equipment. They made some of the modifications, but I made most of them. Even the ones they deemed unnecessary."

He reached for the lever and you handed it to him. He felt so natural holding these pieces, yet they were less familiar since they were no longer attached to anything.

"What was it like when you first flew the Marauder?" you asked.

Tech fondly smiled and answered, "The training simulations were not adequate, but I adapted quickly."

He grimaced, now faced with the thought that he would never fly his ship again. He would never have that home again. He took in a breath. Things changed, but he wasn't alone. He made it to Pabu, their new home. He put the yoke and lever aside and tried to smile at you. You opened your arms to invite him in for a hug if he wanted it. He didn't hesitate. He'd been separated from his family and friends for so long. He rested his head against yours and you held each other. While he wasn't usually one to cry, a few tears trickled down his face.

"I cannot explain why I feel this way. I'm home. We lived. I should only feel gratitude."

"It's okay, Tech," you reassured. "Sometimes I can't put my finger on my feelings, but I simply feel them. We're all built a little different. Besides, you survived a terrible fall. It takes a toll on your body, including your exceptional mind."

He nodded and took in a deep breath. You held him a little closer and waited for him to feel ready to let go. You stayed up with him and watched the ocean while he spent the night telling you all kinds of stories about flying and the modifications he wanted to make on a new ship.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Dramione Drabble 31

DISCLAIMER: It’s come to my attention that Ron Bashing is very upsetting to some readers. So , please do note that this post uses the Ron Weasley tag because he is a significant character in this particular story, also this is his POV . HOWEVER, please mind that this also includes a Ron bashing tag. If you are offended by Ron bashing, don’t bother.

I had to write this one, the inspiration hit and I’ll be in LA all day tomorrow visiting my sister. So here we go! Also, I’m adding to the next chapter on ao3, so it will be a minute before I post it.

Ron had mixed feelings about working the night shift on the beat. Before they were ordered to have a partner with them at all times, he’d been able to pop into Hermione’s or even Parvati’s while on patrol. Some nights, he was able to visit both witches.

He wasn’t proud of what he had done to Hermione. Parvati had been aware, from the beginning, that he had no intention of leaving Hermione. She was his til the end. And he was hers.

The thing with Parvati wasn’t serious and she had been okay with that. It was just a way to get that little bit extra he wasn’t getting with Hermione. He had assumed that she was content, if not happy, with their love life. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings by telling her that he needed more.

But, what if she had been severely disappointed. Maybe that was why she never complimented him, never praised him, never rolled off of him in a state of pure bliss.

With Hermione, it was always straight to work. She’d have to make tea, or clean her kitchen, or catch up on paperwork.

What if she wasn’t satisfied and that was why she kept busy after? What if she was seeking that little extra bit that Ron couldn’t give her from someone else.

What if that someone was Malfoy? He seemed to sordid type to get off on hitting his women or choking them. Hermione was not that kind of girl. She never asked Ron for anything naughty.

But Ron watched her, wondering. She avoided eye contact with him whenever they passed by one another. Ron would fantasize about grabbing her hand, pulling her into an office. Anyone’s office, it didn’t matter. Whichever one was nearby. And he’d go down on her and make her cry and shout out his name. She’d thank him for being so good to her, for making her cum so hard. Ask him to take her back. You know, shit like that. Something fantastical. Something erotic.

Ron would stop at the end of the hall and watch her.

With Malfoy, she’d look right into his creepy pale eyes and smile. She’d look at his bruised face, the dried blood on his lip that never seemed to go away and her eyes would fucking light up.

Hermione would look right into his face and see something in or past all of those sneers and scowls. She was blind to the monster lurking within.

Even worse now, she resembles him. The scowls and the sneers have migrated and taken residence on her beautiful round features, her eyes just as cold and pale as Malfoys.

She was scary, now. Other Aurora avoided her gestate, shivered when they thought she wasn’t looking. Whispered about her behind her back.

And now her and Harry were both looking at Ron like he was the monster. Ron was only human, and humans were animals. Fucking was just a natural need. It delivered the endorphins that were desperately needed after the war, after losing his brother.

Everyone did it. Every being did it. The birds and the bees and all that shit. It’s just that when Ron got off, he needed to be told what a good, sweet boy he was. That he was a hero., a savior. Someone worthy.

But sometimes, once upon a time, Hermione would look at him like he was. He missed it. Fuck, he missed her. It’s a terrible thing. That, even though Ron had fucked up and he still had Parvati, he didn’t want to give up Hermione. He loved her body as much as any others, probably more. No man enjoyed accepting the idea that he would no longer have it to himself. Maybe never again.

And Ron certainly didn’t accept the fact that Malfoy might be the new proud owner of that particular one.

“Hey, Weasley.”

Oh, right. The other reason he hated these shifts. Not only could he not drop by Hermione’s, he was permanently stuck with Anthony Goldstein. He wasn’t a terrible bloke. But he was shifty, a bit off. His movements were jerky, timid. He looked like somebody who didn’t belong on the force. He looked like someone who was thrown into it, forced to become an Auror and had never accepted that fact.

Ron pinched his lips together, and pulled his eyes from the corner building where Hermione lived. Her windows were dark. She probably wasn’t home.

He nodded to Goldstein in acknowledgment.

“Isn’t this the apothecary where Hermione and Malfoy got into that altercation?”

Goldstein was staring into window of the shop. The lights were dim, as if to still keep the potions advertised on display in the front window. Or perhaps the witch who ran the place was still inside, cleaning up.

Ron stepped up beside him. The wizard flinched and Ron couldn’t help the roll of his eyes. “Yeah,” He sighed. “That’s the one.”

Goldstein looked up at and stared. Ron could feel his eyes assessing him. “You and Malfoy don’t get along, do you?”

Ron dug his hands into his pockets, thumbing the wand nestled inside and laughed. One short, derisive bark. “What makes you think that, Goldstein?” He frowned and shook his head, a little ashamed at the acidic tone of his voice. “Look, let’s just say that the day where every day of my life stops revolving around Malfoy, will be the best day of my life.”

Anthony was still staring at him. Ron was staring at the window, at the dim light of the back room, a shadow moving. Through his peripheral, Goldstein was nodding slowly. He might have been grinning, but that wouldn’t make any sense. Goldstein hated conflict, he was a bit of a coward

But then Goldstein moved for the door. “We should go in.”

Ron shook his head. “Nah, she’s closing up. Besides it wasn’t our crime scene.”

“I heard she hadsa love potion. It might help mend whatever went sour between you and Hermione.”

“No thanks, mate.” Ron chuckled nervously. “I’ve had one too many experiences with love potions.”

“But, this isn’t like Amortentia. This one helps to…alter the way you think.” Goldstein voice was less flinchy and more persuasive than he had ever heard him. It was unsettling.

“That’s Barmy.”

“The witch who brews it says it allows you to connect with your lover on some kind of mental or spiritual level.”

“I’m not slipping ‘Mione anything, Goldstein.”

“You wouldn’t have to.” He opened the door and said, as he stepped inside. “You take the potion. All you need is a strand of her hair to add to it.”

And then Goldstein was disappearing into the shop and into the dark shadows of the potion filled shelves. “What the — Goldstein!” Had the wizard lost his mind?

Stepping into the Apothecary sent a shudder down Ron’s spine. The hairs on his arms stood. Something was definitely off about this. But the witch didn’t seem to notice or care about the jingle of the bell on her door, and Goldstein was lost somewhere in the vast array of potions. Some of them glittered, some were glowing in the dark. Some were as dark as the sky outside.

None of them seemed ordinary. Most of them, Ron didn’t recognize.

But he crept along the shelving, the habit of staying quiet and undetected hard to break. He passed shelves labeled things like Elixirs for Life. Others with the words, Poisons to live by. But when Ron reached the shelf that was labeled, Love, Sex and other maladies, he knew he was in the middle of something shady.

Of course, none of that helped him to prepare for the figure that leapt out in front of him, or for the wand that was pointed directly at his temple before the voice whispered the incantation that would turn his brain into dough, softening into something that could be kneaded and molded into surrendering. Ron’s entire body locked up, his mind went quiet.

Nothing was the same. Nothing was known. His name, his desires, his job.

No, for Ron, everything had changed the second that voice had uttered the word to end it all, “Imperio.”