#written proof

[shyranno]

I've been sad lately so I've been trying to boost my serotonin by drawing Jedi AU youngling trainer Maul (who I affectionately call Dad Maul)... it works :))

[ahalliance]

the dread i feel knowing that qbaghera is a ‘federation experiment’ and that qantoine is involved in ‘federation experiments’ will never fade btw 👍

[theanimeroom]

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

💎 jailbird!kazutora who never learned how to eat you out.

“fuck, just like that tora,”

your silky, sweet voice left the two-tone haired man moaning into your cunt, lips wrapped firmly around your clit. your hips twitched at the sensation, grinding down onto his face with purpose. his lips loosened their grip on your sensitive bud, parting them in favor of abusing it with his tongue instead, flicking until his head was trapped between the pillowy surface of your thighs. a broken whine rumbled it’s way from your chest, fingers lacing through his black and blonde strands.

fuck, he was so good at this. for him to have been a beginner, he picked up on everything quite quickly. he was silent and attentive as you guided his hands, running them over every last spot that made you tick. by the time you’d let him go, he’d memorized every erogenous zone on you. your pussy was gushing with slick the moment his fingers dug into the flesh of your inner thighs, dragging you towards him near the edge of the bed. you’d only briefly mentioned that the inside of your thighs were sensitive in passing, not expecting him to remember every last detail.

but alas, he loved you, so what else was he supposed to do?

when the tip of his tongue brushed against your sensitive clit for the first time, kazutora swore that he could have come on the spot. you let out the sweetest moan, back arching as you tried to roll your hips up for more. your eyebrows were threaded together, the simple action already leaving you with little air in your lungs. you tasted like heaven when kazutora took your cunt into his mouth, eyes rolling into the back of his head as his hands found their way under your legs. his fingers hooked into the dip between your labia and thighs, forcing your hips down onto his tongue.

you were like an addiction, the moment he got a taste of you he was obsessed, refusing to come back up for air until you were a writhing mess for him. your pleas for him to slow down only sent him into overdrive, your eyes nearly crossing as he forced the band in your lower belly to snap with one final roll of his tongue over your clit. when your eyes accidentally lock while you’re pushing the blonde strands of hair out of his face, he gives you a drunken smile, lower half of his face drenched in your arousal. he could care less though, as your sweet cunt was definitely his new favorite meal <3.

[antiqua-lugar]

I just barely survived my first Shadow fight and Gale had a huge "!" sign on his head so I assumed Gale being Gale he was gonna tell me anything magic related on how to survive this situation

Instead he just told me some people feel...urges after a recent brush with death. Of a certain nature. And they write books about it. Do I know about it?

I know this man never had the chance to flirt like a normal person so he literally doesn't know how but I can't stop laughing

[messrmoonyy]

Hi messr! Face sitting with Tess? Yes? Tess using your face to get off and praising you the whole time telling you how good you’re doing? 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

Tess servopoulos x reader

Wc- 600 ish | 18+

navigation | Tess Masterlist

If there was one thing about you, it was that you lived to please. To please Tess in particular. You were quite certain you’d do anything and everything she wanted from you if it meant you got to make her feel good. And the opportunity’s for such things weren’t exactly frequent. So when you were blessed with the chance you gave it all you had.

Even if your jaw was starting to ache.

“ that’s my good girl, just like that “ it was worth it to hear those words. To hear every single piece of praise fall past her lips. All in that sultry, breathy tone of hers that made heat pool in your veins “ so good for mommy baby “

She was rocking against your face, one hand twisted into your hair and the other pressed against the wall above the bed. You were entranced, watching her writhe above you and gripping tightly at her hips. She was hypnotising. Beautiful in the way her naked body moved, a sight reserved for your eyes only. It made you squeeze her tighter, a smile tugging at her lips.

“ like what you see baby? “ you moaned against her in answer as she looked down at you, her hair sticking to her forehead and neck “ hmm do that again” you watched her face relax in bliss as your moans vibrated against her. Clearly adding some extra layer of pleasure to the moment.

She was practically dripping onto your tongue, so wet because of you. It made some primal part of you flare up in your chest. And you wanted her to come. Wanted to taste it. Wanted to watch her move against you. Use you. Take what she needed from you after her apparently hellish day.

“ so fucking good for me huh? Makin me feel so good baby, so good “ her movements were growing ever more sloppy, her fingers in your hair tightening to angle your head how she wanted. You kept up your movements, tongue lapping at her like you were starved, nose bumping her clit as she increased her pace. The occasional choked moan escaped her, almost as if she wasn’t able to keep it in even though she wanted to. And wasn’t that a thought. Tess so usually composed, so reserved in the sounds she made… unable to stay silent. Simply because you were making her feel that. Good.

“ just like that baby, just like that. Gonna make mommy come “ you whimpered and moaned against her, fingers digging into the flesh of her hips and watching her face as best you could underneath her ever erratic movements. She was desperate. Growing ever closer to finishing because of the pleasure your you were making. The way your tongue was sliding through her sensitive folds, circling her dripping entrance, catching her clit. Probing and sucking and licking in ways that were making her lose all self control.

“ like that baby- like that- “ she came with a choked moan, head tipped back in pleasure as she ground down on your tongue in a way that was quite nearly suffocating. But what a way to go. You didn’t let a single drop of what she gave you go to waste, lapping at her sensitive cunt until her legs were shaking above you, thighs trapping your head in place until you’d pulled every single second of her orgasm out of her.

“ fuck “ she sighed, running a hand through her damp hair and shifting off of you so you could breathe properly again “ you okay baby girl? “ you must have had a face of pure joy yourself. Almost smug in the knowledge of being the reason for her blissed out face, her sounds, the taste of her flooding your mouth. You gave a nod, rolling your achy neck a little “ you did so good for me. Made me feel so good baby. No one makes me feel the way you do “ she said softly, tracing a finger along your jaw before leaning down to kiss you. Humming a soft moan into your mouth.

[whotfletamothhyperfx]

“Sonic?” The hedgehog's attention was drawn down at the breathless scared voice, a voice that sounded way too young to be the same confident energetic kid that he knew. Tails always sounded and acted old for his age. So to hear the opposite was almost unsettling in a way.

“Yeah bud?” Sonic asked softly, gently stroking the tufts of fur on tails head backwards over and over, it was something the boy always seemed to enjoy. In the days where they first met and tails finally let sonic touch him he’d just sit there with the toddler in his arms gently petting him.

Sonic would give anything to be back there right now.

“I’m scared” the small voice interrupted him with, tails was in sonic's arms, looking way tinier than he had ever done. His baby blue eyes staring up as sonic filled with tears as he practically begged sonic silently to not leave.

They had been fighting when a floor caved in. Tails hadn’t flown back up, they had just assumed he would have been fine. Tails had gotten them out of so many sticky situations before how could he not have gotten himself out of this one?

Sonic wished he had jumped in after straight away.

It had been twelve minutes since the boy had been under rubble until sonic finally came. One of his legs was completely crushed, trapped by metal looking up at the sky waiting for someone to come down and get him but no one did for what felt like an eternity.

The thought brought bile to Sonic's throat at the idea of the terror and hopelessness the boy must have felt when they hadn’t instantly come to collect him. Like he had done for them so many times before.

God why hadn’t sonic just looked.

Maybe if he had looked he would have seen the fact tails leg was practically flattened, how bars of metal stuck into his shoulder and hand pinning him to the floor looking up at the light coming through the hole.

He saw that no one came to get him

“I know.. shh I know” sonic shushed gently, patting the boy's head more soothingly hoping to whatever God that he hadn’t yet killed that the boy could last a little longer. It had been a simple mission, no one had brung the emergency kit.

But it was too late now. They didn’t have a clue how to get him unpinned, how to get what felt like one hundred feet tall metal bars out of him, they didn’t know how they were going to move him with his leg practically off. If they had just checked on him to begin with they would have had time. But they didn’t. Sonic tried not to throw up.

“Am I gonna die?” Tails asked bluntly, staring up at sonic as the older desperately tried to shade the boy from the light seeping through the ceiling. Tails usually got his traits from sonic. Everyone knew it. The bluntness was a group effort however, all of them are like it and eventually it must have rubbed off on him.

Sonic squeezed his eyes shut looking up at the collapsed hole begging that he would just see one person racing down. One other person to help him get tails out, or at least someone to help the kid calm down “No never you can’t die when your with me remember I’m sonic the hedgehog”

Sonic stopped for a second, he didn’t know if he was saying this for tails benefit or his own anymore. Tails had always been surprisingly calm about the idea of dying. It was something he had accepted long before ever meeting sonic. The hedgehog however? He couldn’t let that happen. Tails has so much to do, so much to see. “You’re not gonna die.”

They both hated the silence that follows

“Promise?” His voice sounded even younger than it did before sonic had met him.

“Promise won’t die..”Tails begged letting out a small hiccup as he was slurring his words as well. His pupils were starting to become different shapes as well. One blown wide and the other no bigger than a pin prick. Part of Sonic knew it was inevitable.

Tails wasn’t going to have the long happy life sonic had dreamed for him, he would never see tails grow into his own person, see his brother do the incredible things he was destined too. No. His brother was not going to live a hero’s life. Tails was going to die a slow painful death all because they assumed he would fly himself out.

And when he didn't, none of them had looked, he had been so fine on his own before that it hadn’t occurred for them to check just this one. Just this once battle and he would be fine on his own.

He could do it.

They believed in him.

“You won’t die. You can’t you’ve got so much to live for; so many achievements to get and I’m gonna be right next to you cheering you on every time” sonic whispered because he needed to see it. Sonic couldn’t live with himself if tails wasn’t right beside him living as well. He needed to see what his brother would do. Who he would become. They just had to get out this hole.

An agonising silence took over again, the only thing to hear was tails ragged and trouble breathing mixed with the gentle taps of water dripping down into the hole.

“I’m cold”

tails was getting worse by the second, the pool of blood that covered the ground stained sonics knees as he tried desperately to give his brother some warmth any kind of warmth

“I know”

Sonic just needed to keep him awake, to keep him talking, Tails could have all the blankets he wanted when they got home. Sonic would heat up as much warm food, give him as many hugs and tuck him in as many times as he wanted to keep him warm just so long as he stayed awake

“I wanna go home”

How long has it been since Sonic stayed over? He went out on a few weeks long adventure, he was due to come home today but they stopped at the mission beforehand. Why hadn’t sonic just come home earlier?

“I know..”

Why hadn’t sonic just come home from his stupid adventure. It hadn’t been the same without tails anyway, why couldn’t he have just come home early. He could have had so much more time with tails if he did so.

“If I die.. will you knuckles and Amy and everyone.. will you be ok?” Tails asked his voice raspy, his eyes barely able to keep open as he stared up a sonic, drooping open and shut as the pupils changed in size, the pool of blood getting bigger as tails sobbe through his words.

“I dunno..” Sonic muttered not knowing how to calm him down. Sonic had never been good with the whole comforting people thing, but he knew tails needed it, tails needed to stay calm and hang on for just a few more minutes. “me and knucklehead would probably fight a lot more without you there to be the voice of reason”

The hand that wasn’t pinned with a metal rod sticking through was stroking sonics hand with his thumb, Tails was trying everything to keep himself awake but it was getting so hard. “I’d feel bad knowing that I wouldn’t be there to build the machines and stuff anymore that would be annoying for you all.”

“That wouldn’t be what we would be focusing on kiddo..” Sonic said with a laugh, his little brother was always so focused on what he could do for other people that he never seemed to realise that they just loved him for him. Sonic needs to tell him that more. Sonic just needed tails to hang on a little longer. He’d get him out and then he’d remind tails everyday. “Bud there’s never going to be anything more important than you”

“There will be more important things.” Tails whispered his thumb stopping stroking, he didn’t have the energy to do anything but lay there and try to keep breathing. Sonic couldn’t care less just as long as he kept that one thing up. that’s all sonic could ever ask for.

“Not to me.. never to me.” Sonic said honestly because there never would be. Nothing could be more important to sonic than tails. His other half, his baby brother. That kid was going to grow up. He had too. Sonic wouldn’t know if he could live without tails. He just couldn’t.

Now that tails was in his life sonic could never have him leave it

“I’m tired..” the boy whispered gently, his vision going blurry as he tried desperately to keep his vision focused onto sonic, but his eyes kept getting drawn away to the light seeping through the hole's entrance.

Has it always been that bright?

“Just a little longer and they’ll find us ok?” Tails wasn’t looking at sonic anymore, instead looking at something just behind sonic, his breaths nearly completely halted as he stared with half shut eyes at something behind sonic. A wave of happiness filled the hedgehog as he assumed it was someone coming to help his little brother however looking behind him there was…no one.

He looked back at tails confused only to see the boys eyes softly shut, his chest no longer rising and falling.

“Tails?” Sonic softly asked softly shaking him, not to hard, his brother was hurt he didn’t want put him in pain he just needed tails to wake up.

He needed him to wake up.

“Hey buddy open your eyes c'mon buddy” Sonic put two fingers on the boy's neck, He felt the boy's pulse disperse underneath his fingers. He couldn’t do anything but stare at his baby brother in his arms.

Not his baby brother.

His baby brother's corpse.

That’s when the sounds of rummaging came from above as knuckles and Amy piled in with the emergency kit screaming and asking if tails was ok. Sonic couldn’t do anything for a second. He just stared at them before looking down at the lifeless body

And sonic screamed for any fucking god who could hear.

[paintingformike]

no offense but how do people read “she’s already beginning to understand she doesn’t need me. i saw it— i saw it in her eyes, that last time we talked” in the official script released by strangerwriters themselves and still think mleven aren’t heading for an inevitable break up in s5...on top of millie continuously making use of terminologies like “autonomy” and “independence” whenever she’s asked about el’s arc in depth? even going as far as specifying she’s discovering who she is without mike? like its screaming at your face plain as day im sorry 😭

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

Love On The Brain

Pairing: Hawks x reader

Warnings: smut, sex pollen, dubcon?? (only cause of the sex pollen, but both parties are very willing), vaginal fingering, slight public sex, multiple orgasms, slight bondage, language

Word Count: 3.6k

"Behind!"

With a sharp glance over your shoulder, you were barely able to catch sight of a blade rushing towards your upper half. The warning gave you just enough time to lean back in an attempt to dodge a certain hospital trip.

The elongated knife almost cut off your lower arm, just scantily grazing the fabric of your hero outfit before retracting back into the villain's throat.

Gravity overpowered your body, creating the perfect opportunity for your own opponent.

She made a successful grab for your elbow, but you took advantage of your still wobbling form, using her weight to bolster yourself upward before ushering a swift kick to her temple.

Unable to dodge, the villain tumbled to the ground, allowing you to maneuver her limbs to an imprisoning position.

Panting, you pushed a foot into the back of your now grumbling adversary, using your free arm to re-tuck a sweaty strand of hair back into place.

"Sorry about that!"

You glanced up as red feathers descended from the sky, replacing your hands as temporary cuffs.

"Yeah, what happened to 'I'll take care of those three.'" You scoffed, dropping your voice a few octaves to imitate the winged pro.

"Still true." Hawks gestured behind him, where blade-spitter and two others sat captured in his crimson plumage. "I just wanted to make sure my favorite sidekick was on her A-game."

Releasing your grip on the woman, you offered your partner an over exaggerated eye roll. "And you couldn't have done that without the prospect of getting my face chopped in half?"

One of his feathers tickled your nose before being promptly swatted away. "Oh, come on. You know I love your face way too much to ever let that happen."

"Whatever." You muttered, trying to ignore the heat building up your neck at his words. Although meaningless, the flirtatious quips always managed to cruelly pull on your heartstrings. The relationship between the both of you would never surpass that of friends, a fact you had gradually come to accept, even though it didn't make it hurt any less. "Let's just hand these guys over. I don't wanna be stuck in a meeting with Endeavor past eight again."

The Flame Heroes gatherings were never very exciting, but you supposed they were necessary.

Crime rates were steadily increasing, along with the multitude of different, powerful quirks being registered. In light of this, the conferences had become a weekly occurrence.

They usually consisted of a rundown of recently imprisoned villains and their individual abilities.

And although it was pretty bleak, they were still a requirement for your job, which you took very seriously. Therefore, you forced yourself to focus when the time came.

Until today, that is.

"...of his quirk: knife tongue. Possible links to the League or other..."

The valuable information flowed through your brain, getting stuck in the webbing of your mind in little, most likely useless, tidbits.

"...physical contact to transfer, so make sure to..."

The rest had turned into muffled blabber under the veil of your detached train of thought.

You really should have been paying attention, especially for the part about the most recent villain you had apprehended. That way you could at least try to look professional if questioned about the take down.

Adrenaline still seemed to be coursing through your veins, an all natural performance enhancer that left you jumpy a few minutes after a fight.

It had never lasted this long, though.

In fact, there seemed to be a few physical abnormalities affecting you at the moment.

Trembles coursed through your usually steady limbs, translating into tiny shakes in your arms and legs.

Another was the heat.

The room seemed to be unnaturally hot. This ever increasing warmth had completely overtaken your attention span, even going as far as to hush the first few callings of your hero name.

Hawks nudged your shoulder with his, breaking your distracted stupor.

You looked up to see everyone glancing in your direction. Much to your dismay, this included the smoldering gaze of the current number one.

"Are you alright?" Endeavor's voice boomed.

"Yes!" The sound came out a little two shrill for your liking. "Yes, I just need to use the bathroom. Excuse me, please."

So with a small bow, and the absence of any sort of confirmation from your boss, you were out, rushing down the hallway on quivering legs that threatened to fail at any moment. It was a wonder they were able to carry you to the laboratories at all.

You nearly fell into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you before leaning on the wall for support.

"Breath." You whispered. "You're fine, you're fine, you're fine."

The individual affirmations did nothing to quell your problem dilemma.

On the contrary, the air around you seemed to be growing hotter by each passing moment. It's humidity filled your lungs in the most unsatisfying of ways.

Something sparked in your lower abdomen at its steamy infiltration, the tiny flicker glaring brighter with every breath.

You hastily shoved yourself off of the wall, grabbing onto the sink and placing the faucet to the coldest setting.

Cold water splashed up onto your face, but it only offered momentary relief. Soon, your skin had gone back to its prior simmer.

Fuck, why isn't this working?

Panic had your train of thought careening off the track. It had sent you into a frenzy of questions.

What was happening?

What should you do?

Where you going to die from this?

The only thing you knew for sure was that you couldn't stay here for much longer. Anywhere that wasn't public sounded acceptable at the moment.

But as you flung open the door, Hawks' fist, waiting midair and ready to knock, met your sight.

Bronze irises met your own as the previously flitting gleam in your core flared to the next power.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Yes, you may have possibly sustained a tiny crush on your superior over the last few weeks. And yes, you had possibly allowed the fantasy of his touch to flit through your mind every once and a while. Still, your one-sided attraction was in no way, shape, or form to this magnitude.

The mere sight of him had never segued into this level of intense lust. And it also most definitely never made you feel like your skin was about to melt off.

That wasn't normal.

However, as he gently grabbed your face and pulled it closer for inspection, you could just barely repress the whine bubbling up at the minor contact.

"Shit, what happened to your eyes? They're crazy dilated."

"What are you doing here?" You blurted, a feeble attempt to avoid his question.

"I offered to check on you." He replied, going back to his examination. "You're super warm too."

"Isn't it hot in here? I mean, do you feel hot out here?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "It's February."

Yep, definitely not normal.

"Hold on, did you..." When he leaned forward, you were almost sure it would be the last straw. His stare would be the thing that truly set your already molten form ablaze. "Did the villain get you with her quirk during your fight?"

Usually, you would've never admitted to inattentiveness during a meeting, much less in front of your boss, but you were getting increasingly desperate. "Could you, um, remind me of what it is, please?"

Amusement spread over his features as he leaned back, anticipating your reaction.

"Standard aphrodisiac."

As the words left his mouth, any hope of this being any sort of typical fever shattered.

Stimulant quirks were quiet rare in terms of documentation, but surprisingly severe when handled inappropriately.

In the best form of words, it was a very 'fuck or die' situation, whereas the 'die' part translated into a few weeks of bed rest. This also meant a few weeks out of hero work, making the situation very serious.

So one could imagine your irritation when you heard a quiet snort from the man in front of you.

You looked up, shooting him a glare that rivaled the simmer of your current physical state.

"Sorry, lovebird." Hawks chuckled, throwing up his hands in surrender. "Seriously, though, do you remember anything she did that might've looked like a transfer?"

You thought about it, trying to place your buzzing mind back to the fight. "I don't know. I mean, it was over pretty quick, but I didn't see her do anything unusual."

"Endeavor said that the quirk is passed through physical contact, but you're..." The words 'all covered up' fizzled away as his scanning gaze landed on your forearm, or more so, the tiny rip in your costume located there. "Well, that's not good."

"No, shit." You sighed, trying to focus your energy on keeping your breathing steady.

"So, are you super turned on too? Or just hot?"

"Hawks!"

"Okay! Okay, I'm sorry. Come on, we need to get you to a doctor." He pulled your wrist, but you planted your feet firmly on the ground, momentarily halting his movements.

"No! I don't- I mean, I can't-"

"Embarrassed?" The inquiry was seemingly sincere, but it didn't match with the mockingly innocent tilt of his head.

At any other point in time, you would've easily batted away his teasing, but the tantalizing tone sent warmth streaming to your thighs.

"Do you have anyone that you can call?" He lifted your arm, propping open the ripped cloth to look for any blemish

fuck, he has really nice fingers

or mark left behind by the quirk user. "Or do you need me to call a professional?"

You shook your head. "No, I..."

I want you.

Your line of sight unconsciously wandered down to his lips for a moment. Upon noticing, you averted your gaze, but he took notice of the minuscule gesture.

"Oh." His usually bright smile turned downcast and you weren't sure why. It was still present, though, probably for your benefit. "Look, I know you think you might want to, but that's probably because of-"

"The quirk? No, it's not..."

"But it could be." He sighed, running a hand through his curls. It was faint, but hurt was clearly lacing through his tone. "I just don't want you to hate me when this is over. You... I need you to call someone who you seriously want to help with this, yeah?"

Verbal nausea seemed to have been added to the list of influential physical aspects of the power. Its invisible fingers picked at your vocal chords, fueling your frustration until it almost began to overpower the heat. "I've liked you for weeks, okay? And I know there's no way you feel the same, but dammit, there's no one in this whole entire city that I would rather be with, so stop being dense!"

Silence, heavy and potent, filled the air in the wake of your confession. The relief of getting it off your chest lasted milliseconds before humiliation shot through you.

Salty tears were threatening to fall, conjured from frustration and embarrassment; it took the last of your mental prowess to push them back.

Your unintentional words had ruined a perfectly thought out career in less than seconds. Even if you weren't demoted, there was no way that your friendship with Hawks would ever be the same.

Screw figuring this out.

Maybe a few weeks in bed would actually be good.

But as you moved to turn around, the arm still wrapped around your wrist gave a tug, pulling you back to face his direction.

Golden eyes searched yours for any sort of dishonesty, any sort of hint as to if desire what affecting the accuracy of your words. And while your desperation was ever increasing, he found none.

And then you being hauled to his office.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Am I getting fired?

Hawks could be an asshole sometimes, sure, but it would be a massive dick move to terminate you right now.

You were dragged into his office before he released his hold on you, turning around to close and lock the door while you inspected your surroundings.

It was quite spacious, but with the amount of zeros on his paycheck, one wouldn't be surprised. With its white furniture and organized layout, the room was able to achieve a very modern style.

Floor length windows spanned across two of the walls, allowing the pinks and yellows of an early sunset to filter through.

They were mirrored on the other side. You knew because a few months ago, Hawks had flown straight into them, thinking one of the sliding glass doors had been left open. At his request, they had been altered less than a few days later.

Apparently, avian quirks could also translate into some other bird-like characteristics, a fact that you had eagerly pestered him for.

The fond memory was immediately followed by a grimace.

Was this really the end of your friendship?

Yes, it hurt to know that you wouldn't amount to anything more, but it would sure hurt a lot more to stop spending time with him completely.

"Hawks." You started, but the words never came. As it turned out, the only understandable statement that your sizzling brain could come up with was the one that would end up with you jobless.

You were just so unbelievably hot, not to mention way too turned on for a serious conversation right now, especially not with him.

At this point, you needed help. But even in your haste, you paused at his thoughtful expression.

And even though it was short lived, the hesitation gave him just enough time to deduce whether or not you were telling the truth and more so, what to do with that vital piece of information.

His lips met yours.

You gasped at the sudden gesture, but he quickly swallowed the sound, cupping your jaw in one of his hands while the other found its way around your waist. Already trembling limbs turned to putty in his arms as you returned the kiss.

The feeling of his mouth against yours was bewitchingly captivating. It possessed a siren-like allure that overpowered your corporeal need for oxygen.

It was all that much worse when he pulled away seconds later.

"How could you ever think I wouldn't feel anything for you?" He paused, seeming to ponder something for a few seconds before continuing. "Keigo."

"Keigo." The sound felt nice as you tested it out for the first time, a refreshing breath of air contrasting against your blistering atmosphere. You had never imagined hearing his real name, something that had been kept tirelessly out of the media.

"Mhm." He confirmed. "I figured it would be good information to have."

With gentle guidance, he led you over to his desk, propping your body up so his gaze was level with yours. Bronze eyes, once kind and playful, fervidly darkened.

"That way you'll know whose name to scream when I fuck you senseless."

The words barely had time to grace your comprehension before he was kissing you again, hands keeping a steady position on your waist.

His tongue grazed over your lower lip, a wordless request of access that you gladly granted.

With every passing second, every flick of his tongue against yours, you descended further and further into mindless bliss. Desire was beginning to completely fog over your senses as his hold became your only tether to this reality.

His kiss descended past your jaw, trailing across its edge before moving on to your exposed collarbone, sucking and biting like it would be the last time he would ever enjoy human contact.

The quirk had left you over responsive to his touch. Your breathing accelerated when his lips latched onto a sensitive area. With his impeccable hearing, and the way he smirked into your neck, it was pretty obvious he noticed too.

Dexterous fingers unbuttoned the top of your pants, toying with the waistline as he pulled away to meet your gaze.

At your fervent nod, his hand descended below your stomach, barely grazing your clit through your underwear. The minuscule bit of contact sent a shiver up your spine.

Ever attentive, he took notice, pressing down on the already stimulated area and forcing a moan from your throat. Instinctively, you raised a palm to muffle the embarrassing noise, but his feathery bindings got there first, hardening around your wrists and securing them to the table.

"Fuck, you're sensitive."

"Keigo!"

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He grinned wickedly, sneaking his hand beneath the fabric to nudge you slit. "Just curious what sound you'll make when I do this."

He effortlessly dipped a finger into you, pumping it at a steady pace before following with another, making sure to keep his thumb trained to your clit in a tortuously slow rotation. His efforts, much to his delight, were rewarded by a blatant whine.

"Good girl." He praised. "Do you know how infuriating it is to be around you all day and not wonder what your pretty little moans would sound like?"

Pleasure coursed through your body with each thrust, the chord growing tighter until it was just whispered stroke away from breaking.

"Kei-"

With a curl of his fingers, you were silenced, the final syllable of his name dissolving into a low groan.

It wasn't long before you were unraveling on his hand, already close from the quirk itself. The coil in your stomach snapped, offering a release that had your vision flickering.

Still, it wasn't enough.

The fire in your core had merely dimmed for the moment and was threatening to flare up to its previous roar again, especially when you saw him begin to undo the stop of his jeans.

His instantly caught onto your line of sight and he let out a short laugh, coming forward to tilt your chin upward and forcing your gaze to meet his.

"Aww." He chided, golden eyes wide in sinful delight. "So needy, huh?"

The tantalizing tone had your thighs clenching, the soft beat above them begging to be satisfied.

"Please." The sound itself was pathetic, a far cry from your usually unbothered persona. In another world, you would've minded, but your abdomen felt like it was about to burst into flame. The heat was still present, an ember-less wildfire that only his embrace could quell.

Thankfully, he seemed more than willing to help.

After eagerly discarding your own undergarments, he carefully aligned himself at your entrance, slowly entering you at a speed that had your mouth watering. It was utterly antagonizing, pleasurable relief just moments away.

Immediately, you found yourself unconsciously lifting your hips to meet his, desperate for any kind of friction. Keigo chuckled at motion, but took pity on your wordless plea, beginning to rock himself into you at a steady pace.

"Fuck, I thought you were pretty before." His thumb found your clit again, rotating around the nub in slow, gentle circles. "But you look so much better under me."

His free hand pushed under the top of your hero suit, exploring your skin like it was some foreign treasure before wandering upward. His fingers skimmed the top of your breast, pulling it out of your bra to need to supple flesh. The light pinch of your nipple spurred another aroused exhale.

His established rhythm began to quicken, fueled by pure desire. Every kiss to your cervix had you steadily growing closer, filling you to the brim with pleasure that you internally begged to spill over.

One final push had you tipping over, the cruel ecstasy finally hitting its peak.

Euphoria flooded over every crevice of your body. Your walls fluttered around him as your high was met, offering a soft convulsion that allowed him his own release.

In the midst of senseless bliss, you took notice of the way the atmosphere seemed to normalize. Your previously smoldering body soon regained its usual temperature, chilled by the winter climate.

Your heart was coming down from acceleration too. The only word that was adequate to describe the feeling was that of pure relief.

Physical relief from the heat; sexual and emotional relief from previously though to be unrequited emotions.

Still, as he slowly pulled out and helped you back into your suit, you realized that you didn't know what would happen next. Whatever had just happened was definitely not how you imagined your relationship starting.

"So, this doesn't have to go on record, yeah?" The statement, although partly serious, was more so a light quip of sarcasm, something you relied on to hide under your nerves.

Keigo had grown to recognize the mechanism, playing along into his own intentions. "I don't know. I mean, if you're gonna be my girlfriend, we'll have to bring it up with HR anyway."

You perked up at her words. "You really want me to-"

"Obviously." He smirked, picking you up and gently plopping you on his couch. "And don't think I forgot about the whole 'you having a crush on me for weeks' thing."

Warmth, the normal kind this time, bloomed up your neck as you averted your gaze. He laughed at the bashful gesture, a sound you had grown to love just as much as the individual himself.

"Aww, don't be embarrassed. I thought it was cute. Besides," he cupped your face, peppering your cheeks with kisses before leaning back and allowing you to glimpse the adoration brimming within his expression. "you've been on my mind just as long."

[greensaplinggrace]

aklsdjf imagine hating your own characters and the people who like those characters so much that you wont even speak to a fan of your work about them. girl this is embarrassing for you

[eatsleepmemerepeat]

I see it's written, it's all over his face

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won't you ever say what you want to say?

🤝🏼

Hey, babe

It's written all over your face, say it…

You're giving me that silent treatment

Don't know what it's achieving

When we're finished saying nothing

Can we please get back to loving?

Those lyrics are married because the people who wrote them are

[smallfrenchstudyblr]

Justice as spectacle in Fontaine, or a too long word vomit from a tired PhD in Law gushing over Genshin 4.0

Alternative title: “Justice must be seen to be done”, a visual playbook by Genshin 4.0

Intro: This is a valid use of a PhD in law, actually.

I made the mistake of playing the 4.0 update of Genshin while I was finalizing my PhD in law and politics, and the result was my brain refuse to think about anything else than judicial performativity and the use judicial spectacle in Fontaine. So time to make good use of 9 years of University by dissecting why I absolutely love how Fontaine’s justice system is presented. It was initially much longer and covering why justice as a spectacle is not necessarily an issue or sign of a disfunctionning legal system,  then what exactly about the Fontainian justice system is actually fucked up, but it got too long so I’m keeping that for the indeterminate future. So the pitch of this thing is: Mihoyo is basically providing us with an animated First Person POV game version of legal ethnographic works on justice and the courthouse, and it is really cool.

And since I am a nerd with both too much time to read and to play, we are making this a proper academic, with literature and all, because listen to me, LEGAL ACADEMICA IS COOL, ACTUALLY, and law and literature at large is a genuine field of study that we, as a society, need to talk about more.

[also there is non-zero chance that I edit this brainrot and submit it for publication at some point]

Warning: I am basing this on 4.0, up to and including Act IV Chapter II (hence no discussion of the prison system) and if Mihoyo thwarts the whole thing with 4.1  [oops I am late so now 4.2, since 4.1 did not thwart it] then let’s do what we do when new results contradict existing theories in academia and just collectively agree to ignore it.

TL;DR: Someone at Mihoyo read Simonett’s 1966 essay on The Trial as One of the Performing Arts [Here, just read it, it is fascinating] and decided to make it everyone’s problem

Part 0: if this was not Tumblr.com I would make a recap explaining broadly what Genshin and Fontaine are but since you are reading this I’m going to assume you already know the context.

Part 1: Ok so how does the Fontanian Justice system work, exactly?

Alright, so each area of Teyvat has 1) one core theme/value and 2)a threat to that core theme/value.

Mondstadt has Freedom and people living in fear of a dragon.

Liyue has Contracts/order and the pandemonium of having Rex Lapis killed.

Inazuma has Eternity and being virtually frozen in time.

Sumeru has Knowledge and being entirely manipulated by the Akademia.

Fontaine has Justice and… Justice being parodied into a spectacle?

WRONG.

Because the spectacle of justice, especially the way it is done in Fontaine, is not antithetic to Justice itself. Spectacle is part and parcel of Justice and of any courthouse. Sure, all the dials are turned to 11 and y’know, it is legit called an Opera, but that is more the writers being a bit on the nose and adding drama for the player. The spectacle of Justice, itself, is not that far off from reality. And, hot take but bear with me: it is not (necessarily) a problem.

Ok, let’s dive into what we know of the justice system in Fontaine.

Broadly speaking, we have seen the criminal justice system, and it is an accusatorial, or adversarial model. It’s the US-style criminal procedure: you have a defendant trying to prove that they didn’t do it your honor, and a prosecutor proving that they totally did it your honor. To avoid this becoming a fistfight, you have a strict procedure to follow outside but especially inside the Court, and in the end, a neutral third party decides on the outcome or the trial.

Ok, now let’s zoom on a few things, and why the theatrics of them are actually very common.

Furina, our cringefail darling, is the prosecutor. And they get a lot of stuff right regarding the role of the prosecutor! She decides whether or not to prosecute, based on the information that she has, and whether she likes her odds or not. Fittingly since she is the Archon, the prosecutor in a trial represents the State, the interest of the State (the judge ! does ! not!). It makes sense that Furina, the ruler (theoretically) would be prosecutor and not judge. Moreover, and as we see plenty of times during the trials, Prosecutor Furina is not concerned with the victim, and not even necessarily with the truth; the prosecutor wants to know how likely they are to obtain a conviction in the end. Her job is to be convincing enough to establish a legal truth.

Neuvillette, for his part, sometimes look terribly powerless… but friends, that is what a Judge sitting during a criminal case often is. The first part of his job is to find sufficient information for the prosecution to decide whether or not to prosecute; he is supposed to be entirely neutral at this stage. He kickstarted the investigation straight after the death of Cowell, and was also the one starting investigation on Vaughn right after Lyney is proved innocent. He gathers enough evidence, hands them over to Furina and asks “So? Are you game or do you want to leave that alone?”

And once the prosecutor has decided to move forward with prosecuting, his job is to make the procedure move along, take some decisions based on new information, ensure all respect the rules (hence Childe’s immediate smackdown when he starts to act out a bit too much at the end. My man is here to make sure the rules are enforced and that also applies to Snezhnayan gremlins). In the liminal space of the courthouse, he is the supreme authority… over the procedure. He can tell anyone, including Furina, to stfu k thx. He starts and stops the trial. He allows witnesses to be heard or not.

And the last party involved at this point is the defense, usually the Traveler and any adorable twink we befriended that day [good for you, Traveler, good for you]. They present evidence, they have to be convincing, it’s basically Ace Attorney, we know that part.

Part 2: Mihoyo makes it clear that we are all actors in the Courtroom

Ok, first moment of pause.

Even though these are the most basic parts of a criminal trial, they are ALREADY steeped in drama and theatrics, both IRL and in Fontaine.

First off, Furina plays a prosecutor, Neuvillette plays a judge and the Traveller plays the lawyer.

No but really: they play their role in the Courthouse.

The game painstakingly presents Furina for the first time not as a prosecutor in a courthouse but as a cringefail princess. When we see her initially welcoming the Traveller, going “Fight Me” at them in the streets of Fontaine, she is not a prosecutor, she is just Furina the cringefail princess.  We meet Furina as Furina, and later on only, we see her with her Prosecutor face. Furina is not a prosecutor, outside of the Courthouse.

I don’t even have to explain how much Traveler plays lawyer. We are, and I cannot stress it enough, NOT lawyers (yes, even you who developed an unhealthy obsession with Ace Attorney before Genshin). The developers even took the time to develop an entire new gameplay to really, really highlight that is a behavior that the Traveler can only have in the Courthouse. Traveler is not a lawyer outside of the courthouse.

Neuvillette is a bit of a special case. We do meet him for the first time in the Courthouse, as a Judge. But once again, the moment we meet him outside of the courthouse, he is much more approachable, definitely not the same persona as when he bitchslapped my problematic Harbinger into the Meropides prison [we are so going to write something about the Meropides prison once I have played enough 4.1 my friends – update post 4.1: ok Mihoyo that was weak commentary on the privatization of prison and prison labour but I’ll take it]. Neuvillette is probably the one that is the most associated with his courthouse persona, but there is still this gap between Neuvillette-Judge and Neuvillette-reflecting-in-the-end-of-Chapter-II.

So everyone is just themselves in their daily life, but there is something about a Courthouse that turns people into their judicial role. That’s what we call the liminality of the courthouse (Hadar, 1999). And it exists IRL, in a way shockingly close to what we see in the Opera Epiclese.

Magistrates, whether prosecutors or judges, do not act in their own names, they have a role to play. Someone woke up that morning, had breakfast, swore at the neighbour who did not park properly again, spilled some coffee on their documents again ffs, stumbled a bit on the little steps leading to the courthouse, and then, they put on their costume and started to play the role of the judge. As someone who has been in what can only be referred to as “backstage”  of a court , and entered the courthouse with the magistrates, I cannot stress enough how drastic the shift in person is the moment a magistrate steps into the space of the trial room.  

From there on, they are a Role. Furina, like any prosecutor, is not a prosecutor, until they are The Prosecutor, and then they are not themselves anymore, in the enclosed space of the courthouse. Have you ever seen a lawyer talk in their daily life the way to talk in a courthouse? No. Someone is just some person, until their put on the robe and their Lawyer Face and start their Lawyer Movement and Lawyer Tone. Traveler cannot go all OBJECTION when they have a disagreement with a random shopkeeper in Teyvat. The game doesn’t even give you the option – because you are not lawyer, unless you are in the court. None actually plays a lawyer, unless they are in the courthouse.

And an adversarial model encourages this. You have character, but for it to be a play, or an opera, you need a narrative (murder, ok, that will kickstart a narrative) and you need dramatic tension. Drama is created by the opposition of two characters having opposite goals, confronting each other. Simonett, a former Minessotta Supreme Court Judge, has a fascinating article called “The Trial as One of the Performing Art”, which really ecapsulates how an adversarial system is built on this drama:

‘The trial has a protagonist, and antagnonist, a proscenium and an audience, a story to be told and a problem to be resolved, all usually in three acts”.

More than an inquisitory model (hello, fellow continental Europeans), parties are encouraged to bounce off each other, take initiative, undermine and interact with each other. US courthouse TV shows loooove that, and Genshin absolutely leaned into that. The potential for drama was so strong and intrinsic to the story that For the first time, we got to play a character that was not even with the traveler: Traveler was off investigating, and we played Navia in the courthouse, because the sheer drama of being in the courthouse is too good for the game to pass.

Do you see it yet? Here is more. A judicial role is a role. IRL, a lot of it is emphasized by the robes -the - sometimes complete with wigs and accessories- that judges and magistrates must wear before entering the space of the courthouse. You put them on like you put on a costume -defendant, prosecution, judge and even audience alike (Cabatingan, 2018), there is a ritual of preparing for the performance of a trial the way you prepare for a play. Genshin characters cannot change their clothes [give us a proper fancy-af-judge-robe for Neuvilette Mihoyo you COWARDS], so the game does all it can to realllllyy show you a separation between the judicial role and the actor playing I in the courthouse.

Part 3: Game designers said yes this an Opera and a Courthouse because these are the same thing and they are right

[The urge to include Foucault in this section, but I do not have Discipline and Punish with me rn, rip]

Ok, ok, why not. But what about the stuff that is not in your random courthouse, like a damn AUDIENCE and the fact that it takes place in an actual OPERA ?

Aight, we gotta dive a bit deeper into two things: the role of audience in the judicial spectacular, and studies on legal architecture/judicial space. I told you legal research was cool.

Let’s start with the most obvious one: architecture.

The architecture of Courthouse is actually really important for the delivery of justice. The building embodies the task itself, and targets evert single person that interacts with the building in any way? It matters specifically because we take it for granted, that this this is just a building, that there cannot be more to it. Or: “Law in its everydayness, banks on the usage of visual means of representation, for they seem to lack artifice, and thus enjoy high persuasiveness” (Kumar, 2017, also this is a study on the architecture of the Indian Supreme court and it is so good). But thi is, of course, on purpose.

My friends, your local courthouse looks like an opera. Recently, I went to a play which was entirely a trial, and they barely had to do anything to set-up the scene because… the opera looks like a courthouse, and vice versa. Fontaine’s Opera Epiclese is this on steroid, and also actually used for entertainment like the magic shows, but its architecture and structure are so close to a proper courthouse that once you see it you cannot unsee it. Not matter how different they might look from each other, all, ALL courtroom have the same setup:

Judges on an elevated position compared to all other parties : Neuvillette absolutely kills it here [my man is placed so high up I was close to writing something about the religiosity of justice.]

Prosecution and accused on two opposite sides, virtually separated by the judge, even putting the defendant in their own little liminal space in the liminal space (Zoettl, 2016, Mulcahy, 2007)

Audience space and trial space clearly separated, with interdiction for the audience to enter the trial space

Audience space allowing to clearly see all angles of the trial space

The architecture of courthouse is strikingly similar to that of an opera’s, both in its spatial organization and its grandiose. The entire building is an opera, not just the ground of the stage. You even have a lobby, the space right in the Opera but not the courtroom, which is very similar to the space where people mingle during the interlude at the Opera – the social settings were many legal negotiations happen (Hansen, 2008)

[Fun fact: I am pretty sure the design of the audience space of the Opera Epiclese was inspired by two Parisian Opera houses: the Théâtre de la Comédie Française et the Théâtre du Châtelet. The stage itself is almost more church-like ; I am curious if anyone knows what the inspiration for the “outside building” actually was, for the Opera Epiclese?]

Eltringham (2012) has some really cool writings about the architecture, and people interact with the structure of courts (in his case, the International Criminal for Rwanda) and how all these features contribute to making the courthouse this liminal space where people can play their role, whether they realise it or not.

But, Almost-doctor, I hear you say, what about the spectacle ?! The audience enjoying the show ?!

Ah, yes. The audience. Just as with an Opera, the audience and the actors enter through differentiated means (the “segregation of circulatory systems”), all with their own point of access to the stage or the seats, and never the two shall meet. It is so important to a court system that you will find this feature highlighted by the architects that renovated the Bordeaux Courthouse and the US courthouse design and planning guide [These are just fun and striking illustration I stumbled on while writing this, you can find dozens of others from any given country]. These differentiated access path help reinforce the liminality of the courthouse not just for the actors, but for us, the audience as well.

You could even agree, with Garapon, that the audience itself is “playing” the audience, in the Courthouse (go read Garapon’s 2004 book, if you read French, it’s so good I swear and like it fueled 90% of whatever this word vomit is)). You are not really yourself, you have new, liminal role of spectator. A trial has a “need for a public”, even a silent one. “'Performance always intends an audience”, for Kapferere. and we can indeed talk about a Performance of Justice, when talking about how justice unfolds in the courthouse, especially in a criminal trial (Sausdal and Lohne, 2021).

The audience is an inherent part of the spectacle of justice – because is there a spectacle if there I no audience? If comedians perform a play with no audience, did it really happen? In the words of our own European Court of Human Rights (I am quoting the ECtHR on Tumblr.com, what is life): “Justice must not only be done, but must also be seen to be done” (Delcourt v Belgium, 1970). For Garfinkel “Legal rituals ... depend on the outside witness to confer on them not only recognition but validity” (Garfinkel, 1956);

Or, to put it more eloquently: “The need for the presence of a validating public at trials is enshrined in many constitutions and built into the very fabric of court complexes throughout the world. (…) Tthe court as a whole requires its reflection in the bodies of validating witnesses in order that this created place will bring sufficient gravity to itself.” (Eltringham 2012).

If a courthouse was just about the truth, or the parties involved reaching an agreement on what the truth is, there would be no need for the theatrics. We could handle a trial in a meeting group like problem-solving session in any run-of-the-mill company. Put everyone around the table, have a moderator, have a decider. That actually exist, it’s called arbitration, and you may have never heard of it despite the absolutely enormous amount of money that are involved (we are talking literal Billions of dollars every year, here), because the whole point is that it is discrete and confidential. But that is not how trials are, anywhere. It does exist though. It is called private arbitration, a form of private justice that focuses on problem-solving, expediency and secrecy, often because my friends, it involves big names and big money.

But justice? My friend, it needs to be a spectacle. It needs an Opera. Because this is how it gains sociological legitimacy, and it needs sociological legitimacy to function. By having an audience, it gains transparency and accountability.

Conclusion: teaser on why the spectacle of justice is not necessarily always totally bad, but also I am too tired to fully argue that.

Now, you might that it’s a bad idea. That what Genshin is doing is denouncing this inherently spectacular aspect of Justice, that there is something inherently wrong in justice being public and publicized for the gain of legitimacy, and sure, spectacular justice can become a parody of justice or a manipulation of justice and this has happened many times in history. And yes, you could go for that (although show trials have typically been at the service of an authoritarian regime in a transition phase, rising or declining, and target political opponents, which we do not see in Fontaine) but… I have another take for you.

Justice being a spectacle is not…  inherently bad. 

Hear me out. Making justice into a spectacle does not have to affect its outcome. The presence of a public does not change the course of a play.

Spectacular justice brings elements of entertainment such as narrative fulfillment and catharsis. That is clearly what Fontainians want: a satisfying end to the story, the truth exposed. Justice as a spectacle help people make sense of their reality, comfort them in knowing that justice does prevail. That the guilty do not go scott-free, that the good guys win, that justice is transparent, that prosecutor need to be able to build a good story to prosecute, and there is no good story is there is not someone who caused harm, and a victim that deserves justice. And, from the information we have so far, this does not seem to lead to miscarriages of justices, or a generally biased justice system. But frankly this is too long already and I just wanted to show that the depiction of the Spectacular in everyday justice is actually present everywhere IRL, and Genshin is just providing a really handy illustration, at this point of the story.

The Fontanian system is fucked, don’t get me wrong, but that’s not about the spectacular on its own. Long story short since it be worth its own word-vomit-style essay, it’s because the jury has been replaced by ChatGPT and there is no civil court, only a criminal court, k bye.

[astarlightmonbebe]

it's easy to read the situation between li tongguang, ruyi, and yuanzhou as a love triangle on a superficial level, but looking even one step further, it's clear that there's no triangle about it. li tongguang is obsessed with ren xin; ning yuanzhou is devoted to ren ruyi. ltg's obsession is fervent and all consuming, but it's not devotion. like ruyi herself notes, his feelings to her are on the basis of her as a mother figure in his life, as a replacement for what he never received from his mother. is there an element of romantic/sexual love/desire to it? maybe. more likely he's deluded himself into thinking that, because the truth is, it's doubtful that ltg even understands what love is (platonic, filial, familial, romantic, all of the above, etc), because he has no basis for understanding. ruyi's teachings and actions towards him are the closest thing he has to hold up as an example. what he wants is ren xin, is a replica of the master he had. he doesn't want ruyi, because he doesn't actually care about ruyi. therefore, he doesn't care if she's sad, angry, mad; he just can't bear her 'abandoning' him. we saw this way back when she first meet and left him, both at thirteen and seventeen. although he distrusts her first, she saves his life and cares for him in the way no one else has, hence her first being raised on a platform in his mind. when she leaves for good, ending their master-disciple relationship/training, even though it's for official business and she's not abandoning him, in his mind that's exactly what it is. so now that she's in his life again, he won't let her leave again. he was powerless before, a child with no proper name, but now he's a recognized member of the imperial family, a man who can meet her as 'equals' (even when that's far from the truth). as a child, he could only cling to her legs and beg her, but now he has the power to keep her by his side. it's telling that when he finally gets confirmation of her identity, it's not ning yuanzhou he seeks to harm (even though he detests him and their relationship), but yang ying. yang ying is ruyi's new disciple, and as ltg doesn't know she's a woman, he only sees her as his direct replacement.

ning yuanzhou, on the other hand, is devoted to ruyi. he wants to build a new life and future with her, instead of slotting her into a spot in the life he already has. he's someone who accompanies her on walks and makes her midnight snacks, who holds her when she needs to be held and lets her go when she needs to do things on her own. when she speaks her mind, he listens, even when it makes him discontent/it's not what he wanted/wants to hear. he sees her unabashedly as his equal, and though he acknowledges her skills and abilities, or points out her naivety, he never does it to belittle her; to him, she is his peer, deserving of the highest honor and respect. he trusts her to have his back, and she has come to trust him to have her. he did what she might have thought no man would ever do: he proved himself reliable, so she came to rely on him. yuanzhou gives her freedom and autonomy as both ren ruyi and ren xin. of course they run into problems, but they both learn and grow from them, as individuals and as a couple. yuanzhou's belief in her is unwavering, but adaptable, whereas ltg's is unwavering, but frozen in time, disallowing for any new information to be presented. yuanzhou works with ruyi to accept the changes thrown her way; he seeks the core behind her actions in order to better understand her. li tongguang cannot accept the changes in ruyi's character, because they run contrary to the master he has on a pedestal in his mind.

what li tongguang wants is to return to the past, but yuanzhou offers ruyi the promise of a future, even one that might never come to fruition. there's no triangle about it.

[rockingrobin69]

Snippet

One Monday Teddy asked, “Uncle Harry, why are your flowers always sad?” pointing to the newspaper under his nose. The pen was still in Harry’s hand, half-chewed.

“I,” he said, stopped. Squinted at the sketching, didn’t really see it. “Are they? Sad?”

“Yeah! Look at this one,” sticky-peanut-butter-finger wiggled very close to his face. “It’s all frowning and all.”

Did look at the lily in question, couldn’t really see where a face would be for it to frown. An eyebrow, maybe, in that line over there, or—“Oh,” when it hit him. The sagginess to the corners. “Yeah, I guess it is a bit sad.”

“They always are,” with a truly Hermione-level of self-assuredness. “Is it because of the, you know, the Terrible and Devastating Loss You’ve’ad Suffered and… everything Mrs. McGuire always goes on about?”

Choked on a startled laugh, buried his face in his palm. “Sorry! No, it’s not—sorry. Jesus, Ted, you surprised me there, is all.”

Thankfully, mercifully, Teddy laughed too. A bit like Malfoy’s laugh, loud and unselfconscious, a little wild. “Sorry, Uncle Harry! I didn’t mean to,” words lost in another burst of laughter. Harry’s chest went tight and over-warm, something fizzy and bright bubbling inside.

“Look at us,” he said in this thick voice he barely even recognised, “all sorry and silly like that.”

“So silly!” Ted shouted, delighted. “Gran would say we’re being so silly!”

“And what would Uncle Draco say?” with only a touch of self-loathing. Teddy’s smile went big, and he came closer, conspiratorial.

“He would say we’re being absolute gooses about it.”  

“Geese,” smiling helplessly. “He’d say we’re being silly geese?”

“Absolute geeses!” shouting, “that we’re—we’re—honking!”

They both roared with it, arm flailing, belly-aching laughter, shouting things like “honk!” and “goose!” and “stop, Ted, oh, god, stop,” flat on the table and laughing. Harry was constantly wiping his eyes, shaking his head, overwhelmed with how tight his chest was, with how much he loved this silly little goose of a kid, who used to be quiet, who still sometimes was. Who was scratched in the same ways Harry had been, and then in different ways altogether. For whom Harry was an adult, was a fixture in a life that wasn’t entirely stable, that was, still, full of warmth and bursts of laughter.

“Hey,” he tapped Teddy’s shoulder, “when he comes in here, what do you think Uncle Draco’s going to say?”

Ted made a serious face, quivering at the edges. “He’ll say, ‘what on earth is happening here!’ and then,” giggling too hard to continue.

“Then?” Harry tried valiantly, covering his own uncontrollable giggles under his hand, “then he’ll—laugh?”

“Honk!” Teddy screamed, and they both lost it, both utterly and helplessly entranced, both, probably, a little bit in love with the image they each conjured of a bemused, sparkly-eyed Malfoy coming in with his arms crossed, with his slanted smile, with his frizzy hair and the piercings all shining in the kitchen’s florescent light. With the questions already on his face and his willingness to partake in any kind of idiocy, of silliness, with how he’d probably only make it worse.

“Honk,” Harry agreed, used his sleeve to wipe some snot, “oh god, Teddy, you’re—” no words to describe it. On the floor, Teddy had begun on what he named his ‘loose goose dance’, which involved mainly elbows and the occasional shriek, and Harry lost it, entirely, perpetually, lost it.

“Teddy!” screaming and joining, flinging his elbows in every direction, belly simmering with it, with how—how silly and light and terrific it all was, everything was, in existence: that he had his godson and his kitchen and his Malfoy and his, this, this terrible, sticky, peanut-butter-smelling moment, this lunacy.

A noise from the door—and there he was, their Malfoy, arms crossed and his face torn between amusement and surprise: “Hello there, Teddington, Harry. What—what on earth is—”

They both cracked with it, sobbing, melting down to the floor: “What,” Teddy, and “on earth,” Harry, lost, both of them lost to it, lost. In the distance, Malfoy was shouting (“what? What? You have to tell me, what?”) and they were all losing their minds, all already have lost.

(From act 2 of Wonder Full on which I'm, yes, still working, promise!)

[see-arcane]

Jonathan Harker: The ‘Absolute Love Corrupts Absolutely’ Villain That Almost Was*

*LONG before Francis Ford Coppola’s Cinematic Gary Oldman Fanfiction

Spoilers ahead for the Dracula Daily enjoyers, because I’m whipping out all my literary receipts on this.

I recently finished speed-rereading Dracula because I have no self-control. In doing so, I got a refresher on quite a few incendiary factors of the book that time had dulled in my memory.

1.     There’s a TON of ‘I’m not like other girls!’ and ‘men good, women dainty,’ and ‘What no I’m not projecting, honest, I just really like the words manful, voluptuous, manful, aquiline, manful, God, and manful again. –Bramothy Stoker,’ so brace for that from basically the whole cast. I’m blaming it partly on Bram Flakes’ own prejudices, of which there are plenty, and the fact that he’d clearly never met a thesaurus in his life.

(I appreciate everyone’s mental revamp of Mina as the New Woman to Lucy’s Classic Damsel, but…oof. Everyone’s in for a harsh Period/Stoker Accurate reminder.)

2.     Brammy Pajamas was either hanging around some exceptionally devout Christians to write some of the second/third act scenes with everyone basically thrashing and wailing and falling on their knees and clasping/kissing hands as they pray to/thank God, all while thinking it was perfectly natural behavior for these characters…or he legit had no clue how any kind of ordinary human being, Christian or otherwise, would react to the situations he puts them in.

(Seriously, it’s not even that everyone’s devout, it’s that they’re all written to act like they’re in a soap opera where the only direction they got was to be as hammy and histrionic as physically possible. You’ll know the scenes when you see them.)

3.     Jonathan Harker has not only been done dirty by every adaptation since the book in terms of being a main character, along with being the character to spend the most time with Dracula in close quarters, period, and being the love interest for Mina—his whole character arc by the second half of the book is the most blazing hot, “If my beloved is destined for damnation, I’m heading to Hell with her, fuck all else,” shit I have ever read in classic literature, full stop.

Not Dracula. Not any character based on Dracula.

Jonathan fucking Harker is the OG archetype for Love Corrupts (Violently), and the canon story avoided him going full tragic villain by t h i s much. You want proof? Let’s go.

NOTE: MAIN SPOILERS STRAIGHT FROM THE BOOK, SHIELD YOUR EYES

Here’s the part most Harker fans scream over, myself included:

“To one thing I have made up my mind: if we find out that Mina must be a vampire in the end, then she shall not go into that unknown and terrible land alone. I suppose it is thus that in old times one vampire meant many; just as their hideous bodies could only rest in sacred earth, so the holiest love was the recruiting sergeant for their ghastly ranks.”

Good shit, good shit! Jonathan was already prepared to risk falling to his death from a cliff or being eaten by wolves rather than stay in Castle Dracula for a bloodthirsty eternity with the ladies. But now? Mina is quite literally his, “You are worth Hell,” Beloved. But there’s more. Fast forward to one of Team Fuck-Up-That-Old-Undead-Man’s first head-on encounters with the Count. As they’re waiting, Jonathan gets impatient, declaring:

“I care for nothing now,” he answered hotly, “except to wipe out this brute from the face of creation. I would sell my own soul to do it!”

He says as much in front of his Christian+ buddies who, by now, had pretty fair reasons to believe in the legitimacy of Hell and all its demons. Van Helsing is definitely startled and seemingly talks him down from such an oath. Key word being seemingly. Because we jump forward again to a point where Mina, in full saintly forgiveness mode (and apparently selectively forgetting Van Helsing’s history lesson about Dracula’s pre-vampire days being ones of a slaughtering tyrant), saying that if/when they destroy the Count, oh, how happy his soul will be to be free of his torment on Earth, et cetera. Jonathan Harker has a rebuttal to share. Namely:

“May God give him into my hand just for long enough to destroy that earthly life of him which we are aiming at. If beyond that I could send his soul forever and ever to burning hell I would do it!”

God forgives. Jonathan Harker emphatically does not.

Onward again, and he speaks volumes by what he does not say. Chiefly, there’s a point where Mina, now in full martyr preparation should the worst happen, makes the boys swear an oath to destroy her body if/when she succumbs and dies to Dracula’s vampiric poisoning so she cannot rise again as one of his ladies. The boys swear. Mostly. What we get from Jonathan is…

“And must I, too, make such a promise, oh, my wife?”

“You too, my dearest.” (Note: The rest of her paragraph here is full of the most knife-twisting, utterly warped martyr ‘pep talk’ I’ve ever read, and I have no idea how she/Bramarama thought it would remotely convince Jonathan this was all a reasonable and chill thing she was talking about. Anyway.)

It’s important to note that absolutely nowhere in the ensuing text does Jonathan ever speak the promise out loud. He does read the goddamn Burial Service at Mina’s request, which he barely chokes his way through. But he never makes the oath.

Another jump ahead. They are on the hunt for Dracula and, alas, have just missed him at a key point. Most of the gang are shaking their fists at the sky, cursing up and down. And what is Jonathan doing? Well, to quote Jack Seward, just before the epiphany…

“We men were all in a fever of excitement, except Harker, who is calm; his hands are as cold as ice, and an hour ago I found him whetting the edge of the great Ghoorka knife which he now always carries with him. It will be a bad look-out for the Count if the edge of that ‘Kukri’ ever touches his throat, driven by that stern, ice-cold hand!”

And upon discovery of the Count slipping them…

“Harker smiled—actually smiled—the dark bitter smile of one who is without hope; but at the same time his action belied his words, for his hands instinctively sought the hilt of the great Kukri knife and rested there.”

For context, by this point Jonathan had already come at Dracula with said Kukri knife a while back, having nearly landed the blow after charging out of the pack and nearly fucking gutting the Count. For extra context, this is a Kukri knife:

He’s just been walking around with that. For half the book. Plotting.

And, with all of this in mind, we can only assume Jonathan had two plans of action in mind.

Plan A, follow Van Helsing’s lead.

…Not counting the moment he almost bit the Professor’s head off for saying he had to bring Mina along with him to Castle Dracula. Another good scene which includes his very succinct reaction to Van Helsing’s suggestion, even if he does have to agree in the end:

“Not for the world! Not for Heaven or Hell!”

Anyway. If the plan works out, cool. He gets to kill Dracula, Mina is saved. Best case scenario!

But then there’s the unspoken, explicitly unwritten (in case his pages need to be read), but heavily foreshadowed Plan B. They cannot destroy the Count, in time or otherwise. Mina is now either a corpse waiting to awake as a vampire, or a vampire already. The others, true to their vow, mean to destroy her.

Jonathan Harker, true only to Mina, in whatever form she may take, still has that Kukri. And the element of surprise. And a full acknowledgment of the realities of Heaven, Hell, and his holding Mina’s continued existence above them, his friends, his sanity, his humanity, and himself.

In short, all your tragically romantic Draculas can kindly go fuck themselves with a wooden stake. Jonathan Harker is the first and best gothic horror example of a person in love to the point of madness, damnation, and willingness to deceive or destroy anyone who would endanger the one he loves. The only reason we never got to see it in action was because Stoker had to tack on a happy ending. If he hadn’t?

The census would be less four unsuspecting heroes and plus two newlywed vampires.

The End.

Suck on it, Francis.

[poisonousquinzel]

I think the thing that pisses me off the most about people who push and push and push the entire "Joker's gay everyone can see that" is that (well 1. he's really not, boo hoo) and more importantly, 2. it takes every ounce of responsibility that he has for every single one of his Purposeful And Planned actions towards Harley and puts ALL the blame on her cause well

She's Just Fucking Stupid!

She's the dumbass who fell for an obviously gay man! What A Fucking Moron!

It ignores every single moment and every single time he purposefully led her on, all the times he acted romantically or sweet or told her he loved her and reduces it ALL down to

"he's gay. he doesn't like her like that cause he likes men. It's not his fault she's pushy and stupid and blind to the obvious"

and not

"he doesn't like her like that and is fully aware of that fact and used her feelings against her to keep her under his control because he's a manipulative abusive loser who cannot stand not being in control of something that he's decided belongs to him."

It completely ignores the history he has of doing this exact shit to Other woman, all cause what, he's an obsessive violent maniac who's main target/Victim happens to be another dude? I'm sorry, but it's beyond fucking frustrating seeing all his history of violence towards women in this sense be completely disregarded or mocked all cause well, actually he likes dudes so none of that matters! Women are just stupid!

Fuck off!!!! Rot!!

Propping up a walking homophobic stereotype as actually totally Just A Silly Gay Man and happily disregarding the literal. decades. worth of abusive actions he's had towards his girlfriend, Who's YA KNOW Actually The One Out Of The Two Who's Canonically In The LGBT Community, is fucking disgusting tbf.

[deiaiko]

#19.3 Unravel

It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.

Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.

They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.

Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"

Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"

"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"

"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."

"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"

"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."

"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.

Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.

"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"

Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arms ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday. 

Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.

Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"

"There's always a chance–"

"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."

Grace fell silent and went still.

Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"

"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"

"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.

Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."

"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.

Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"

"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.

Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."

Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.

"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."

Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.

Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.

Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.

Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."

Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.

When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.

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