you can say whatever you want about tadc and its ending i really don't care but if you think gooseworx getting banned on the We Ban Trans Women website is in any way acceptable you need to get a fucking grip. tumblr staff has a rampant transmisogyny problem and just because someone makes art you think is bad does not mean they should be subject to discrimination. come on.
Which pride flag did you get when you pressed the heart button? :3
Rainbow
Lesbian
Gay
Bisexual
Trans
Intersex
Nonbinary
Aromantic
Asexual
Pansexual
The hearts are cool but these are flooding fyps + important posts during Pride
Voting ended onJun 16
Also if Tumblr staff genuinely cared about queer people they wouldn’t be increasing shadowban rates on trans people.
The 2022 New York City Commission on Human Rights Discrimination Settlement didn’t magically make staff supportive of queer rights, they only backed off long enough to get attention off of them before coming back in a new way.
Unless we keep putting pressure on Tumblr staff about this, you will be next on their ban list.
۶ৎ Characters: Lohen x reader, Lohen x you, Lohen x y/n
۶ৎ Category: Enemies to lovers (the mc is basically the hater here lol).
۶ৎ Warning: Kidnapping...?, possessive Lohen.
۶ৎ Masterlist: Strawberry's masterlist
۶ৎ Requests: Strawberry's request (closed).
૮꒰ 𓈒. ݂ .𓈒ྀི ꒱ა ┊Hello bunnies~♡, Strawberry here ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა. This is a continuation of Daggers and Blushes, because I kind of ended up liking it a bit too much... Anyway, as always, if you like my content, leave me some love and a comment. じゃあね~ ໒꒰ྀི ˶> ˕ <˶꒱ྀི১
The first thing you noticed when you opened your eyes wasn't the pain in your hand, or the strangeness of a room you had never seen before.
It was him.
Lohen sat at the edge of the bed watching you with an expression of quiet, undisguised pleasure, and the moment your eyes snapped open and found his, he made a small, satisfied sound.
"Buh~." Like he had been waiting for exactly that.
He watched you the way a wolf watches something small and warm that has nowhere left to run. Unhurried. Certain. You moved to recoil and the pain hit you immediately, sharp, unforgiving, and the sound that left you was embarrassingly honest. Your eyes dropped to your hand. Someone had wrapped it, clean white bandage over the wound he had put there himself.
"Ah, that." He shifted, settling more comfortably at the edge of the bed. One leg crossed over the other, elbow to knee, his face resting in his palm like a man watching something he found mildly entertaining. The boredom that usually lived in his expression when not fighting had been replaced by something worse, a slow, pleased smile. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. That will take some time to heal."
You looked around without moving too much. A bedroom. A nightstand on either side of the bed, one lamp casting dim gold light against the dark. The window showed nothing but night, deep and late, but still the same night. You hadn't been unconscious long. Small mercies.
"Where are we?" The venom in your voice only made his smile stretch wider.
"Isn't it obvious?" He lifted one gloved hand and gestured languidly at the room around him. "My house."
The words landed wrong. Your mind turned them over once, twice, found no version of them that made sense and discarded all of them. His house. Why. Any answer you could construct was a bad one, because this man — this knight, this particular brand of beautiful and unhinged — was not well. The pain in your hand was a constant, grinding thing you had to actively fight to keep off your face. He had bandaged it, yes. But he hadn't called a healer. He had simply wrapped what he had broken and sat down to watch you wake up.
He likes to see me suffer.
"You psychopath—" You tried to sit up. The room tilted sideways, your head throbbed once like a warning shot, and you dropped back against the pillow. Dear Archons, how much had you bled?
He laughed. Not meanly, that would have been easier to hate. He laughed like this was the most natural thing in the world, like your pain and your fury were both equally delightful to him. Then one gloved hand found your face, cold leather against your skin, and his long fingers curved under your chin, tilting your head up until you had no choice but to look at him.
"That mouth of yours," he said, the delight in his voice perfectly unhidden, "is going to get you into real trouble."
"It already has," you said. "And I'm still talking."
Something flickered behind those strange eyes.
"Now." His thumb traced the line of your jaw once, almost thoughtful. "Be good and rest."
"And if I don't?"
"Would you like me to pin you to the bed with my blades?" He asked it like a genuine question, and the way his eyes lit up at his own suggestion made your stomach turn. How could someone enjoy this so freely? And worse, how was someone like him a knight? What did the Knights of Favonius think they had on their hands?
"Try it," you whispered, with the same quiet venom he used to coat his blades, "and next time I'll make sure the dagger goes through your throat."
He leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek, close enough that there was nowhere to look that wasn't him, and you saw it happen in real time. That pale, perfect skin, the colour that climbed into his cheeks, slow and undeniable, a pink so faint you might have imagined it.
You didn't imagine it.
"You know," he murmured, just for you, "I love when my prey fights back. It makes the process of..." the warmth of his breath moved closer, "...destroying them, so much more satisfying."
You didn't move. You weren't sure you were breathing. The only sound was the frantic drumbeat of your own heart telling you to run, to move, to do something, and you stayed perfectly still.
"Why am I here." It came out flat. You didn't have the energy to make it a question. "You were supposed to take me in."
He pulled back just enough to look at you properly, and his expression shifted into something that looked almost like confusion, genuine, briefly unguarded, as though the answer were too obvious to require a question.
"That would be boring, wouldn't it?" His hand moved from your chin. His fingers found a few strands of your hair instead, pushing them gently from your face, and you were either too exhausted or too frightened to slap him away. Both. Probably both. "You'll pay for your little theft, of course. But under my conditions."
That sounded considerably worse than a cell beneath the knights' headquarters.
Your eyes were losing the fight to stay open. You could feel it, the heaviness gathering at the edges of everything, and you hated that he could see it too. Lohen watched you in silence for a moment. You, who had thrown a dagger at his face when any sensible person would have been focused on survival. You, who kept talking when you had everything to lose and he had nothing. He hadn't decided yet whether you were reckless or simply unafraid of consequences, but he knew, with quiet and absolute certainty, that it didn't matter.
He liked it either way.
"Where are you going to sleep?" The question left your mouth before you could stop it and you immediately wished it hadn't. Stupid. So stupid.
He laughed, soft, brief, genuinely amused, and you felt your eyebrows pull together.
"Well," Lohen said, tilting his head, "I could always sleep here. With you."
The exhaustion vanished.
Your eyes opened fully. Heat rushed into your face so fast it reached your ears, a deep, mortifying pink, and you felt your whole expression do something you couldn't control, something caught between outrage and flustering and the very specific horror of being flustered here, with him, when he was looking at you like that.
Like he had just been given something.
Lohen looked at you, cheeks burning, furious, caught, and felt something settle in him with quiet finality. That expression. That particular shade of pink against the anger still written all over your face, the way you were embarrassed by your own embarrassment, the way you couldn't seem to decide whether to be more annoyed at him or yourself.
He wanted it.
Not just this one. All of them. Every expression you had, every reaction, the fury and the fear and this, especially this, he wanted them the way people want things they have no intention of sharing.
rich bf!lohen who spontaneously takes you out on shopping sprees, telling you to pick out whatever you like. don’t worry about the price, he just wants to spoil his darling
rich bf!lohen who will carry ALL of your bags while you shop around (probably to show off his strength and chivalry). a big, loving grin on his face as he has piles of bags digging into his arm, looking at you with admiration. his free hand around your waist as he eagerly asks, “where to next, schatzi?”
rich bf!lohen who will shove you aside to pay at the counter first, he insists. his apology for being a little rough? paying!
rich bf!lohen who just gives you a bag of mora just because. he’ll smile and say with a cheeky tone “get yourself something nice, mein liebe”
modern rich bf! lohen, alternavitvely, just gives you his card! wtf! he knows you won’t go crazy with it, but that’s why he wants you to still self indulge a little. you’re too careful, he wants you to live in luxury as you should!
rich bf!lohen who will surprise you with new gifts frequently. bouquets, clothes, expensive food, random trinkets, perfume/cologne, plushies, etc. he doesn’t need to be paid back, as long as you love it, it’s enough for him!
rich bf!lohen who loves to take you out on fancy dinners, the ones where if you don’t wear something extravagant, you’re not let in. he likes sitting across from you in the candlelight, watching you pick from the menu where the prices aren’t even listed because it’s so prestigious! he’ll dreamily watch you eat, your eyes lighting up when you taste just how good a little expensive treat can be. what can you do to repay him? hm…let him feed you? maybe shower him in kisses when you get back home?
rich bf!lohen that doesn’t skimp out on the rings. he wouldn’t get an obnoxious rock on your finger, no. try multiple small expensive gems on a band with pretty engravings from one of the finest creators! it’s elegant and meaningful, not showing off just his wealth, but his attention to detail and your style. maybe he’ll pair your birthstones together, or put your favourite gems.
rich bf!lohen who spoils you with luxury vacations. maybe a nice resort with relaxing activities and 5 star service, or somewhere with lots of adventure and fun attractions paired with beautiful scenery. you also best believe your honeymoon will be top notch!!
rich bf!lohen who wouldn’t buy any expensive mansion, but your dream place that you two can really call home. all the money going towards any specific decoration you had in mind. maybe cute things on the walls, any specific kind of kitchen amenities, a garden if you desired, your dream backyard set up, all the furniture you desire. he’ll do anything to make it your wonderland, no matter the cost.
edit: idk if edits show up like this on posts but like. i have an educational reblog on this post. and. it is linked in the comments for easy finding. also added tags for filtering because this is my first containment breach i kinda half assed the tags when i posted this. i might add more if i see others add tags that make sense or if yall ask.
It's a transfem term for when a transfem is in the closet (though sometimes transitioning) and in "boy mode" or actively pretending to be a boy/man while around specific others.
It's not a term you should be using for other people without permission because that can be very transphobic but some trans people specifically identify as it and that's fine.
(If this is incorrect, anyone else feel free to correct me.)
functionally suicidal character saying “I would die for you” to their significant other and its like. I get the sentiment, honey, but if a hot dog vendor told me he’d sell hot dogs for me, I wouldn’t feel very moved now would I
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