loyally-unfaithful

[loyally-unfaithful]

a hundred kissing details

whispering ''kiss me'' to your lover

wrapping your arms around your lover’s neck

kisses traveling from nose to lips

breaking the kiss but almost immediately pressing your lips back together

intertwining fingers

kisses that start out gentle but grows more passionate

forehead kisses

running fingers through your lover’s hair

unbuttoning your lover’s shirt, pressed against the wall

surprise kisses, your lover wasn't prepared but responds immediately

a kiss in which “we’re late for work but let’s be later”

grabbing your lover by the shirt or pants, pulling them closer

kissing under the stars

messy kisses, destroying furniture trying to reach the bed

a kiss that isn’t meant to happen but does so anyway

sliding hands down your lover’s chest

cheek kisses

if we get caught [kissing], we’re dead but let’s risk it

hand kisses

exploring each other’s lips

smiling in-between kisses

now-or-never kisses

caressing your lover’s cheek

good night kisses

+

grabbing your lover by the hand, pulling them into the shower with you

brushing your lips together, lingering for a moment

an accidental kiss between two exes

kisses in which, we’ve already said goodbye, but can’t help stealing one more

this might be our last kiss so let’s make it memorable

kitchen counter make-outs

jumping into your lover’s arms

soft kisses and snuggles in bed

i missed you kisses

a kiss that leaves you breathless

stopping a kiss when it gets too heated

a kiss on the cheek that turns into a kiss on the lips

trailing kisses from your lover’s lips to their neck

“everything is going to be okay“ kisses

kisses that start off passionate but grows more delicate

pulling away from a kiss to look at each other, then smiling as you dive in for another kiss

a kiss to celebrate an engagement

wrapping your legs around your lover’s body as they lift you

a goodbye kiss, both parties unable to let go

''we shouldn’t do this'' but they do so anyway

a swirling reunion kiss

''i’ve had a terrible day at work, just kiss me''

a kiss lasting longer than it should

tending to your lover’s wound, kissing the top of their head, grateful they’re still alive

a goodbye kiss to say that says ''i don’t love you as much as you love me, and i’m setting you free''

+

spinning your lover into a kiss on the dance floor

kisses in which, i can’t believe this is real, but i love you so much

tucking a strand of hair behind your lover’s ear

tracing your lips against the corner of your lover’s mouth

light kisses scattered across your lover’s face, all the way down to their collar bone

pulling your lover onto your lap, having them straddle your hips

bushing your lips against your lover’s, savoring the moment

''i’m not going to kiss you.'' ''why?'' ''because if i do, i don’t think we’re getting out of bed today.''

kissing your lover’s wound after having bandaged them up

mistletoe kisses

surprising your lover after having spent a couple days or weeks apart, smacking a kiss on their cheek

caressing your lover’s cheek

trying to concentrate on a task, but your lover kisses your neck, making your head spin

dropping your gaze to your lover's lips

shushing your lover as they try to kiss you, telling them tonight is about them, not you

a kiss only meant to last a moment, but when your lips meet, you can’t seem to pull away from each other

leaning into your lover’s touch, their fingers tracing down your stomach, their body pressed against yours

a tender kiss on your lover’s chest

kissing your lover so gently, worried that if you pull away for even just a second, you'll lose them

an accidental kiss that confuses you both, but you're quick to crash your lips back together

a kiss, so consumed by each other, barely enough strength left to breathe

accidentally bumping noses

kissing your lover’s forehead, bending down to meet their lips

a kiss to forgive each other after an argument

standing on your tip-toes, frustrated you can’t reach your lover’s lips

+

unrequited love that is now requited, feelings revealed with a kiss to prove it

legs wrapped around your lover’s body

pushing your lover toward the bed, laying them down gently

throwing your lover over your shoulder, carrying them over to bed

crashing your lips together during an argument

kisses in which, we just broke up, but can i kiss you one last time?

whispering “i love you” in-between kisses

having your arms pinned above your head, being told to stay quiet, but refusing to, finding the risk of getting caught quite entertaining

smiling in-between kisses

reunion kisses, and ''i thought you were dead''

kisses in which ''i’ll kiss you right now to prove i don’t feel anything for you'' but the kiss proves the opposite

kissing your lover's tears away

pulling away from a kiss, asking your lover to marry you

grabbing hold of your lover’s collar, begging them to kiss you

sliding your hands down your lover’s body, unzipping their zipper

untying your lover’s tie, using it to pull your lover into a kiss

not being able to unbutton your lover’s shirt because their kisses are everywhere

making-out against a wall

''let’s just kiss, just to see what it's like''

hungry kisses and ripped apart clothes

''it’s always been you'' kisses

[loyally-unfaithful]

today, i want live.

word count: 2.8k

pairing: gen

genre: hurt/comfort

summary: ivan wore loose clothings; each hero have their own vague understanding as to why, but none feel like it’s their place to pry. they won’t force him to tell them anything he doesn’t want to share. they’ll just let him know that they were there for him.

> this was inspired by a prompt i saw while browsing thru the t&b kink meme. i deviated quite heavily from the original prompt but felt like i needed to give it credit, so here's the original request: > “Ivan wears somewhat baggy clothes. I mean, you can barely see his body. The pants are very big and the jacket is really puffy. Someone gets curious by the way Ivan dresses... is he hiding something? It's up to you if he is indeed hiding something or if he is just really shy to show his body. Bonus points if the one that gets puzzled is either Keith, Bunny or Tiger.”

a/n: t&b kink meme got me thunking (am i projecting on ivan again? yea)

on a serious note, wishing you were never born, wanting to physically harm or kill yourself and wishing you didn’t exist are all signs of suicidal ideation. please seek professional help or call a hotline if you’re especially bad at this moment.

if there was a reason why ivan wore baggy clothings, the heroes never pried.

if there was a reason why he hid his neck under that thick scarf, they never pried.

if there was something under the long sleeves he kept tugging, pulling, over his hands, no one ever pried.

they were unsure whether they should show him that they were there for him or if they should mind their own business. somehow it feels as if it wasn’t their place to intervene, that it wasn’t what ivan would’ve wanted. so instead, they kept their distance and remained aloof.

day in, day out, even if it was sweltering hot outside, he’d clutch his jacket tightly and refused to be rid of it.

sometimes, he’d shiver like a leaf, twitching and flinching at every sound or movement. he’d fidget, tap his nails on whatever surface they could reach, compulsively move his legs, unable to stay still. other times he’d stay still. uncomfortably still. for long periods of time. the barest rise and fall of his chest hinting that he’s a living being and not a statue.

ivan wore loose clothings; each hero had their own vague understanding as to why, but none felt like it was their place to pry.

the blond was thankful.

ivan almost never took his jacket off: the first to notice was nathan. they just had an eye for that kind of thing. the blond was reasonably good-looking, they had noted during the blond’s debut. he most likely had a good figure. it was a shame that it would be hidden under all those layers of heavy clothing. not to mention the… interesting choice of apparel and atrocious colour combination.

they had entertained the thought of approaching the young man about it, of offering to help him find new attires that suited him more or was more aesthetically pleasing. accompany him to the few upscale boutiques they had in mind. teasing the blond would have also been amusing—nothing more exciting than new blood after all.

maybe it was the way ivan would wrap his hand around his wrists when he was overwhelmed or when there were many people nearby. how he would run his hand along his forearm when he was nervous.

maybe it was the way ivan was either taking too long to respond or was too fast at reacting, hyperaware of every little thing going on around him.

but nathan never did end up approaching him about his fashion choices. in the end, the two never interacted much following the younger hero’s debut.

the only time they conversed with him, their gaze away from the blond’s alarmingly bony limbs (if they saw anything during the very few instances ivan took his jacket off, they never commented), was to inform the young man that he had the wrong concealer colour on. they had offered to help him find the right shade, promising that they won’t pry, ask for more than he was willing to share.

ivan’s hands were always raw and bruised, almost to a concerning degree: karina had pointed out. reflexively, the blond shoved his hands in his pockets and hid them there for the rest of the day.

it’s not that she was wrong.

ivan was nothing if not a hardworker, a hardworker prone to pushing himself and disregarding his own limits. prone to train, recklessly, unhealthily, carelessly. it left him sore and bruised, rips and tears decorating his hand. he’d sprain joints and strain his muscles, and still force himself to keep going. until his mind spins and his vision blurs, until he catches himself stumbling, struggling to remain upright. until he collapses.

because it doesn’t matter if he gets hurt.

because it’s his fault if he’s not strong enough.

because it would be his own fault for being too weak and useless if he died on duty.

it would be what he deserved.

ivan doesn’t let his injuries heal. he picks at the scabs and opens old wounds. he’d watch as the blood would trickle before moving on to the next one.

ivan bites his nails. picks at it. sometimes, he pulls enough to draw blood. catharsis. release. he needs it. he picks, scratches, claws at his skin and bites on his fingers. he doesn’t care if it’ll damage his hands, doesn’t care that he should probably stop. he digs his own fingers under his nails, until it starts to hurt.

for the days, weeks, months, following that, ivan took extra care and precaution to make sure his hands were hidden—usually wrapped in bandages or buried somewhere in his pockets. it’s his ugly, nasty, disgusting, little secret that no one else should have to see anyway.

karina felt bad, but she wasn’t sure what to say. she wasn’t sure if she should apologise or give him an advice or show her support another way. she wasn’t sure what to do. so she just decided to leave him be, hoping that giving him space was enough, was what he needed.

ivan, especially during his earlier days, often went missing: and it filled antonio with a certain kind of dread. similar to the one that he felt when his best friend would disappear for days at a time following his wife’s passing.

he could sense it when the blond would go missing. missing for days, for weeks. before he went missing he’d be listless, apathetic. silent. unresponsive. he would give people the barest response, never quite meeting their eyes. it was as if he wasn’t there.

ivan had a way to make himself disappear, make himself small and unnoticeable. not all that different from the shadows that cling to particularly dark corners, or the spirit that hides just outside your view.

as the days went by, antonio’s worries would grow. and he worried. worried himself sick. but he resigned himself to waiting it out—he couldn’t find his best friend when he went away, there wasn’t a chance he could find the young hero, who could hide in plain sight.

the veteran hero would always walk back to his flat—amazing what wonders a late evening stroll does to you. the frequency and length of these walks would rise whenever ivan went away. sometimes, he would pass by tall buildings or large bridges. he'd end up staring at them for a long time. he didn’t like staying near them for too long, didn’t like where his thoughts led him, and he would quicken his pace.

he never told it to ivan’s face, never expressed it directly… but whenever the blond reappeared, a monumental weight would be lifted from the veteran hero’s shoulders. he knew he couldn’t control whether ivan went away or not, but he hoped that whenever he did, he would always come back.

it wasn’t the thrill. it couldn’t be qualified as that.

some days, ivan simply had no energy. he’d hide in his futon and pass out. he’d lay there, motionless, alternating between staring emptily at the ceiling and sleeping for days.

those were the bad days.

he didn’t show up to work, didn’t respond to calls, didn’t listen to his communicator’s incessant ringing. not because he didn’t want to. because he didn’t know how to.

he forgot.

he forgets a lot. forgets what people say to him in conversations, forgets mission information, forgets how to be.

his mind was a mess of grey scribbles and static noise, deafening rain on a leaking roof, flickering lights, and creaking floorboards.

his life was a criminal sentence the judge placed on him. sins penitents needed to confess. a litany of regrets he wished he could erase. a string of bad decisions after bad decisions he wished to undo.

whenever he was lucid enough, he couldn’t bring himself to show back up at work, ashamed at his inaction.

another side of him liked dicing with death.

he hated this selfish and egocentric part of himself: each time he disappeared, he hoped that it would be the straw that broke the camel’s back, it would be the reason he was sacked and would be allowed to leave.

he doesn’t want to be tied to his life by moral responsibility and obligations—if he quit he wouldn’t be forced to stay for any longer—but quitting wouldn’t be right. he couldn’t desecrate edward’s wish like that. his friend. former friend?

his only friend who’s life he ruined.

honouring his wish was the only thing he could do. and he can’t even do that right. bound to fuck everything up.

quitting being a hero would be another reason for his former friend to hate him.

he deserves that hate. he wants to be hated, because that’s all he deserves.

maybe if he were never born, edward would’ve never gone to prison. maybe if he never existed, edward could’ve been the incredible hero he was fated to be.

the world would be better off without him, a waste of space, garbage who doesn’t contribute to anything.

an ivan-less world sounded appealing.

he can’t deny how easy it would be for him if he was never born. the world would be better off without him, and he would also be better off without having to deal with himself. what a narcissistic way to think about it.

another reason why an ivan-less world sounded appealing.

each time, he would stare blankly at his phone, glassy eyes watching as the minutes on his digital clock turned into hours. he’d consider the prospect of dying.

and each time, despite the temptation, some force compels him to go back to the other heroes.

the heroes were unsure on whether they should show him that they were there for him or if they should mind their own business. somehow it feels as if it’s not their place to intervene. but they know that staying aloof was not the way to show that they cared, was not the right way to help him.

ivan wore loose clothings; each hero have their own vague understanding as to why, but none feel like it’s their place to pry. they won’t force him to tell them anything he doesn’t want to share. it’s his choice whether he opens up or not, his decision to make. they won’t pressure him. they’ll just let him know that they were there for him, and would support him no matter what. come what may, they’ll always have his back.

ivan’s house rarely ever had food, the pantry horribly bare: this was quite the rude awakening for kotetsu. ivan doesn’t understand why the older man makes such a big fuss over whether or not there was food in his house. he doesn’t even remember to eat, what’s the point of buying food that’ll spoil?

that only further alarmed the older man, who pulled the blond along with him to go grocery shopping.

see kotetsu understands, knows what it’s like.

knows how it feels like to forget how to take care of himself. how it’s like to be numb. how it feels to lose days without realising it.

so he pulls ivan along and brings him grocery shopping. eggs, rice, bread, staples. he brings ivan grocery shopping and buys enough to last him a month. wrangles other customers for discounted items during closing time sales. helps him carry the groceries back to his flat. the older man taught him how to cook, set notes reminding him to take care of himself, and messages him asking if he ate yet. come the next month, the veteran hero would be back to pull him along for another trip at the food shops.

slowly, food shopping became easier. it wasn’t as hard as it used to be.

it’s been a long time now. monthly grocery shopping is still a chore. but ivan no longer needs to be accompanied by kotetsu to do it. ivan remembers to go grocery shopping. he takes the quickest route there. remembers to buy enough to last him the rest of the month. picks out the green tea brand that he likes. swipes a discounted packet of bean sprouts. and walked home.

and as he makes himself dinner, he noted that that day was a good day.

the heroes are proud of him.

ivan’s training method was often unsafe: so pao-lin took it upon themselves to spar with him. whenever the blond would begin his training, the younger hero would offer to be his sparring partner.

it would be good to get 1-on-1 fighting practice. they can assess each other’s progress. they’ll keep an eye out in case ivan starts over exerting himself. sometimes, they’d enthusiastically ask if he wanted to compete. who could run the most distance, do the most push-ups, who could win the most rounds out of five.

ivan didn’t know what to make of it, but accepted, not wanting to be rude. they both shared a similar affinity for martial arts. used medium-ranged weapons. what would be the harm in it? it’s better than letting his katana collect dust.

after a while, it started being odd to not practice with pao-lin. felt bizarre not having them buzz around energetically. creature of habit, force of routine. he starts seeking them out during training. manages to push away the thoughts that tell him that the other hero wants nothing to do with him. that they were tolerating him out of pity. manages to fight the reflex to isolate himself. and when he does ask, pao-lin was more than happy to oblige.

they tended to be a chatterbox, so it was no surprise that breaks would oftentimes be filled with their rambling. sometimes, the blond would interject. but most of the time, it was his junior who carried the conversation. but he didn’t mind. it was nice. he’s surprised that they were also interested in anime. it’s nice. it’s nice being with someone he shares an interest with. he manages to open up. starts talking more about what he’s passionate about. stops believing that the other heroes hate him.

and his friends are proud.

picking up his training katanas, he suggested going back to practice, which pao-lin agreed to with gusto.

they wondered aloud what made him so happy that day. ivan blinked. thought about it for a second. as he shook his head, he told them that it was nothing. it’s just been a good day.

ivan has a tendency to lock himself away in his bedroom: that was why keith would always ask if ivan wanted to come run with him (and john)—it didn’t actually matter what his answer was, keith was set on making him tag along.

keith brings him out jogging, or walking if he doesn’t feel like running. even if he doesn’t feel like going out, ivan would follow the blond wordlessly. keith takes him outside to help clear his mind. breathe in fresh air. to remind him the world isn’t confined to his dark and stuffy bedroom. that the world is so much more than the empty and suffocating room.

soon enough, walking around became a comforting routine. an alternative. a safe escape. he remembers to go outside once in a while. he takes the usual path keith would lead him through. he’d see the sun at its zenith. he’d watch as the sun rose or dipped below the horizon. sights he probably wouldn’t have bothered to notice.

usually, these walks were uneventful. it didn’t matter if they were or not. it helped rid his mind of harmful thoughts, if only for a moment. a welcome distraction. sometimes he’d cross paths with keith. sometimes he’d greet him. sometimes he’ll just acknowledge his presence.

keith was fine with this peaceful coexistence. they didn’t have to talk if ivan didn’t want to. it was enough to see him get out and about. see him basking in the sun. enjoy the present.

john would wag happily, excitedly meeting ivan’s hand (he hasn’t felt like he needed to conceal his hands in a long time now). and as ivan gently petted the dog’s head he noted that it had been a good day.

it’s been a long time since he felt as though he had to wear a scarf everywhere he went. the patch where he would pull his hair has healed. he no longer fights the urge to bash his head against the drywall or give in to his impulses. he still wears his jacket everywhere, his second skin, but the other heroes understand. they’re still proud of him.

he’s getting better. not every day is a good day. but whenever the heroes remembered how he used to be, how bad the bad days used to be, they’re proud. it’s easier to remain the same. but he chose to start getting better. they’re proud of him. he’s getting better. his life was no longer something he regretted. he turned it into something he wanted to cherish. there were more good days than bad days.

today he: had a good night's sleep. flossed before going to work. made his bed. remembered to feed himself. polished his shuriken. scored some points on herotv. made a post on his blog.

today is a good day.

today he wants to live.

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[loyally-unfaithful]

"the sun" by kaede kaburagi (reimagined)

word count: 123

summary: if kotetsu had died, the contents of kaede’s poem at the end of the rising would’ve been vastly different as her father would not be there to inspire nor encourage her.

besides, i doubt she would’ve even gone to the goddess festival.

so here’s my interpretation of the reimagined poem

a/n: if kotetsu had died, i feel like even if the lunatic-kaede duo had disbanded (as the hero’s memories were returned and maverick has been apprehended) by the time the rising happened, the contents of kaede’s poem at the end of the movie would’ve been vastly different. that wouldn’t even be the only differences: for one, ryan might’ve still worked as barnaby’s partner—though he might flake to that different company/billionaire just because he doesn’t like the cut of bunny’s prickly jib…regardless if the incident reached the best possible resolution (i.e. no major casualties, schneider didn’t die, virgil got arrested, etc…), kotetsu would not be there to… inspire her i suppose? so she wouldn’t have this admiration or trust in the heroes. besides, i doubt she would’ve even gone to the goddess festival to witness the hero in action.

on another note, i am by no means a poet, nor a good one, but i wanted to challenge myself to sort of write a poem? write one, in a way? by no means is it mine, seeing as i just replaced some words here and there. i just thought it would be fun

the sun by kaede kaburagi

did you know? there are other suns besides the one that flickers fleetingly in the sky the tiger that can no longer run proudly the hare that ceases to hop about the ice that glistens dangerously the storm that roars violently the inferno that scorches mercilessly the bull that vocalises deafeningly the umbra that changes indistinctly the thunderbolt that flashes blindingly they’re all different but they all have a sun reaching its supernova inside of them because of it they feel sad and hurt and down but eventually the sun will fall everyone’s sun will fall the sun always falls when you’re finally free the sun falls no matter what today or tomorrow… the sun will inevitably fall

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[loyally-unfaithful]

hozier lyric prompt list

I couldn’t whisper when you needed it shouted

I need to be youthfully felt, ‘cause God I never felt young

No better version of me I could pretend to be tonight

No grave can hold my body down I’ll crawl home to her

My baby never fret none about what my hands and my body done

There’s an art to life’s distractions

Would things be easier if there was a right way

My dearest love I’m not done yet

The purest expression of grief

Don’t give it a hand, offer it a soul

I know who I am when I’m alone

Run until you feel your lungs bleeding

Rare is this love, keep it covered

The way she tells me I’m hers and she is mine

Honey you’re familiar like my mirror years ago

I knew that something would always rule me

My peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake

The thrill of knowing how alone we are, unknown we are

I’ve never loved a darker blue than the darkness I have known in you

Give your heart and soul to charity ‘cause the rest of you, the best of you honey, belongs to me

I’d wanna be felt by you, held by you

‘Cause power is my love and my righteous to me

Be still my foolish heart, don’t ruin this on me

When you move, I’m moved

I’m put in awe of somethin’ so flawed and free

The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

Sit here and watch the sunlight fade

I wouldn’t fall for someone I thought couldn’t misbehave

But I’ve had no love like your love

Honey, the look of it was as sweet as the sound

How long you would wait for me?

My heart is screaming out

All that goodness is gone with you now

When I have no kind words left, love, for you

Be like the rose you hold in your hand

I knew it from the first look of the look of mischief in your eyes

Willow dancing on air before covering me under garden and calicos

With the roar of the fire my heart goes to its feet

Love in its decisive pain

Know that I would gladly be the Icarus to your certainty

I’m in love with you

That you gaze unafraid as they saw from the city ruins

You are unbreaking

The only heaven I’ll be sent to is when I’m alone with you

Good God, let me give you my life

[loyally-unfaithful]

There is nothing more tender than playing with someone’s hands…..it sounds so dumb but stroking each other’s palms & tapping on each other’s wrists & twisting your fingers together & squeezing each other’s hands…..it’s like having a conversation that no one else can hear!

[loyally-unfaithful]

lol imagine if i told my family i was seeing someone and they invited me to bring them home next time i visit so you volunteered to be my fake date and then we accidentally fell in love for real would that be fucked up or what

[loyally-unfaithful]

Dialogue with Emotional Connotations

Use these as prompts, reference, or whatever else you’d like. I had fun making this list. 

Part 2 now published

Dialogue That’s Like a Love Letter

“It was always you.”

“Can you just hold my hand?”

“I love you in every possible way.”

“You are your own person. You are not mine. But I hope you will let me love you.”

“I wished every day to hold you once more.”

“You are a fountain of good fortune, my love.”

“Seeing your face is like drinking water after a lifetime in the desert.”

“There is something between us and it is the most beautiful thing I have ever felt.”

“If I could stay here with you forever, I would.”

“You had the deftness of a master thief when you stole my heart.”

“You are the first thing on my mind, the last thought before sleep, and my truest love.”

Dialogue That Tugs at Those Heart Strings

“You made me feel weak.”

“I didn’t mean to love you so much.”

“You were the only person I thought I could trust.”

“You promised you wouldn’t forget me.”

“I don’t have anyone else.”

“I thought you still loved me.”

“You never cared that you broke my heart.”

“It wasn’t supposed to end this way.”

“Please just stay with me. For one moment at least.”

“You’re leaving now?”

“You didn’t miss me at all?”

“I can’t love you anymore.”

“I wish I was sorry.”

“All these years and you decide to break my heart now?”

“Did I ever really matter to you?”

Dialogue That is Angry

“Admit that you’re wrong!”

“Do not compare yourself to me.”

“My hate for you runs deeper than your ego.”

“You left me!”

“You will never know how I feel.”

“Liar!”

“I wish you were dead.”

“You will regret this.”

“Get away from me!”

“I don’t know you anymore.”

Dialogue That is Sunshine and Smiles

“This is my favorite time of day.”

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Feel it, it’s soft.”

“He’s adorable, what’s his name?”

“Let’s take the long way home.”

“I know it’s early, but you have to see this sunrise.”

“Paint with me.”

“I love it. It’s amazing.”

“Look at those stars.”

“You’re absolutely fantastic.”

[loyally-unfaithful]

you know those scenes where two characters are close to each other, and character A spots some sort of danger coming towards them and immediately shoves character B away from them, taking the blast or impact themselves to protect the one they care about? yeah that one that’s a trope that I love a lot

[loyally-unfaithful]

cliché but classic trope: when the person who almost died wakes up in a hospital bed, looks around and sees the object of their affection sleeping uncomfortably in the chair next to them because they haven’t moved in days.

[loyally-unfaithful]

look I know this is sappy and cheesy but u know when a character loses control of their power or they’re possessed or w/e and their s/o shouts their name running towards them and then they stop their rampage and let their s/o hug them,, like that’s good shit

[loyally-unfaithful]

my favourite ever literary trope is “you want me to be a villain? i’ll show you a villain” that shit gives me goosebumps and given the right context also turns me on

[loyally-unfaithful]

voice kink ust things i adore:

when one half of your otp calls the other up when the callee’s half awake and the caller goes really quiet over their scratchy voice/soft groans because um

when one half of your otp is literally moaning over really good food and the other gets massively distracted from whatever they were doing

one giggles/chuckles at just the right timbre to leave the other loosening their collar and squirming in their seat and wondering why

one whispering instructions in the other’s ear and the other needing the instructions repeated because they caught exactly nothing of what was just said

inappropriately timed boner/weak knees/what-have-you because holy shit did person B just growl?

person A sighs/moans/purrs person B’s name for unrelated reasons. person B needs a moment. or twenty.

[loyally-unfaithful]

miscellaneous angst starters.

when were you going to tell me?

you can’t keep doing this to yourself.

that’s…a lot of blood.

can you walk?

please don’t lie to me.

you were supposed to leave.

i’m not going anywhere without you.

shh, it’s okay. it was just a dream.

there was nothing more you could have done.

it wasn’t your fault.

this is all my fault.

you aren’t acting like yourself.

i’m never going to let [her/him/them] hurt you again.

you’re hurting me.

don’t ever do that again.

go to hell.

please don’t cry.

you have to stay awake.

i wish i could take the pain away.

you could have died.

hey – stay with me.

it’ll be over soon.

did you ever love me?

i’m sorry. i can’t do this anymore.

things won’t always hurt this bad.

you passed out.

how much have you had?

i’m okay. it’s all fine.

it’s not okay! you’re not fine!

let me get you something for the pain.

it’s nothing. it’s just a bruise.

it’s clearly not nothing.

have you been to the doctor?

i didn’t mean the things i said.

i thought we meant something.

people who are okay don’t act like this.

you don’t have to go through this by yourself.

i don’t want you to be alone.

please don’t regret me.

i heard you crying.

you need to get some rest.

when was the last time you ate something?

i’m worried about you.

did you have another nightmare?

[name], there’s nobody there.

i want to be happy but i don’t think i deserve it.

please talk to me.

why are you mad at me?

alcohol isn’t going to solve your problems.

don’t leave me.

did you do this to yourself?

it’s breaking my heart to see you like this.

tell me what’s wrong.

tell me how to make it better.

why don’t you care?

get the hell away from me.

please don’t do this.

i can’t believe that you lied to me.

just…stay for the night.

you obviously can’t be trusted to take care of yourself, so let me do it for you.

you can’t die. i won’t let you.

just hang on, okay?

hold my hand if you need to.

i’m sorry.

why do you have a gun?

don’t panic.

just breathe.

you’re bleeding.

i’m trying to stop the bleeding.

you’ve been crying, i can tell.

you should have told me sooner.

i wanted to tell you in person.

a phone call would’ve been nice.

i hate you.

i love you.

[loyally-unfaithful]

50 Random Writing Prompts

“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”

“Don’t be a killjoy.”

“Let me fix that for you.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Where did you keep my book?”

“The taste of Pasta comes from the sauce. Don’t forget that!”

“I’m sick. Please get me ice cream.”

“That looks good.”

“We’re strangers now.”

“You’ve done masters in stupidity, haven’t you?”

“Wow. Just wow.”

“Come, let’s go home.”

“We’re in dire need of groceries!”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re the one studying law here. Remind me again, is trespassing legal?”

“You don’t understand! It’s true love!”

“Kick me if I do that again.”

“I didn’t really expect that you’d come.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“You smoke now?”

“You’ll be safe here.”

“This is warm.”

“Promise me! You’ll return back!”

“How long are you planning on standing there?”

“Wait for me?”

“If you need help again, I’ll be there.”

“Rain? I love it.”

“Take care, idiot.”

“Hope’s the soup is not too salty.”

“That manga? It’s mine.”

“Go sleep. It’s night already!”

“It’s magical.”

“It’s eighteenth time you’re reading that book.”

“Return back to us.”

“This blanket is freaking thin!”

“Don’t read that!”

“Teach me dancing?”

“You can’t call your boss stupid!”

“Bring me the rainbow!”

“Noodling. No! I meant doodling!”

“And why would you know that?”

“Cyanide? I know it burns the tongue and tastes acrid.”

“Stop laughing on a dying man!”

“Chillies shouldn’t be this spicy!”

“Don’t disturb me. I’m on the threshold of salvation.”

“Please…don’t cook again.”

“Listen, I love you but don’t take your life for granted.”

“…We’re not friends.”

“Gift me a lion cub, please?”

“Cry as much as you want. I’m here.”

[loyally-unfaithful]

i, alone, am like a swaying rootless weed.

word count: 2.7k

pairing: fushiguro megumi/itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi/sukuna

genre: angst

summary: « umm, excuse me? »

a light voice suddenly broke through the silence that drove him mad.

« is someone there? » it asked innocently.it sounded like a young man.

« who are you? » sukuna asked roughly, demanded, equal parts intrigued and irritated.

the pink-haired young man, who had worn a glum expression, suddenly beamed at the response, relieved that he wasn’t alone in this darkness where he was, quite frankly, a little bit lost.

« oh! so there is somebody here! »

he turned his gaze to where the voice came from, and to his slight surprise, 4 deep red eyes stared back at him from the abyss.

he could not see the rest of the mysterious entity’s body, but he grinned unabashedly regardless.

« my name is itadori yuji. » the young man, yuji, pointed at himself.

a disembodied human spirit it seemed. and one who got lost, sukuna surmised, seeing as this was the first one to come this close to the place where he was sealed.

a/n: i had a trip down memory lane and revisited kamisama hajimemashita because i was a huge simp for mizuki, and i saw akura-ou, who i frankly don't remember at all (i only remembered mizuki lol). i then proceeded to make an offhand remark about how he looks like he was voiced by suwabe junichi.

guess what.

so i got braiworms to write a fic based on that scene with akura-ou. i may or may not write more for this, but for now, it will remain a humble one-shot.

heads-up

i write dialogues in what i will call the french/european system? anyway, i see that it's not the dialogue formatting that most english readers are accustomed to so i modified it slightly to be easier to understand. basically dialogues will be within guillemets (« »), and words that are within the quotation marks but are italicised are actions and/or dialogue verbs.

oh that's right, sometimes, a new sentence will begin with an en-dash (–), which means that it's a different speaker.

hope that clears things out a bit and i hope you give me and my fic a chance :)

he was trapped in a cold darkness. rooted in place, sealed away.

he couldn’t move. couldn’t feel a thing. his senses removed.

how many decades had it been since he had stopped thinking about how much time had passed? how much since the apotheosis of his glorious reign? since those cowards calling themselves sorcerers tried to exorcise him? sealing his scattered fingers?

the passing of time was unkind for worthless humans; they were like dross, their lives worth only a second of his, their legacies and remnants fleeting and futile. but for a god, the passing of time was the perfect prison; to be shackled in the dark as the clock continued to tick forwards, with or without you. how many things have changed? has anything changed at all? what has become of the world?

one day he will escape this prison. it is not a question of ‘if’, it’s a question of ‘when’. and he knows that the sorcerers know, and that they will forever fear the coming of that fateful day.

so he bided his time.

a minute had passed since he was trapped. then two. then three.

there was nothing in this empty space to keep him entertained, only time to keep hold of his growing grudge and desire to strike back.

it had been one day since he was trapped. then two. then three.

5 days.

37 weeks. or maybe it’s been 36 weeks? 39?

imprisonment gave him plenty of time to build his hatred and plan for revenge, plan for his ascension, for when he restores the age of curses and reclaims his rightful place as the king of curses, the god of this new world of his own creation.

but time slowly marched on.

maybe it had been 716 years.

he has lost count.

in this abyss in which he was enchained, there was no measure for time. and though imagining how he will exact his revenge and slaughter anything he wants, the different ways he will torture and massacre whatever remained of the sorcerers from times long past, cleaving through the masses of pitiful mortals, was a fun past-time, there was only so much he could imagine before he got bored. only so much he could conjure up without his hands itching to kill something. to feel the sickeningly warm skin of the living, their erratic and panicked pulse thrumming under his fingertips as he ignores their pleas. the smell of iron clinging to kimono and skin.

how many centuries had it been since he had last seen light?

too long. too many centuries.

he’ll make them all pay, make them go through the same thing they subjected him to, if only their frail bodies were able to handle what he was going to inflict on them.

« umm, excuse me? »

a light voice suddenly broke through the silence that drove him mad.

« is someone there? » it asked innocently.

it sounded like a young man.

what’s this? no one has ever been here before.

« who are you? » sukuna asked roughly, demanded, equal parts intrigued and irritated.

despite the presence of another soul for the first time in a long time, he is immediately reminded of the nuisance they posed. always so unrefined, lacking in knowledge or power.

the pink-haired young man, who had worn a glum expression, suddenly beamed at the response, relieved that he wasn’t alone in this darkness where he was, quite frankly, a little bit lost.

« oh! so there is somebody here! »

he turned his gaze to where the voice came from, and to his slight surprise, 4 deep red eyes stared back at him from the abyss.

he could not see the rest of the mysterious entity’s body, but he grinned unabashedly regardless.

« my name is itadori yuji. » the young man, yuji, pointed at himself.

he paused, and sukuna wondered if the fool was waiting for him to introduce himself too. as if human mores and customs concerned him.

unbothered by the lack of reply, yuji continued, though this time slightly more sheepish.

« err… about halfway up this freeway, i got caught in a traffic collision and ended up being trapped in the pileup. he started, smiling, unsure, as he scratched the back of his neck. i hung in there for a couple of hours, but… it seems my body is giving out now… »

a disembodied human spirit it seemed. and one who got lost, sukuna surmised, seeing as this was the first one to come this close to the place where he was sealed.

when was the last time he saw a human? it gave him an odd sense of nostalgia.

alas, it seemed that they were as feeble and helpless as he recalled.

« i mean, this was my first time dying after all. he laughed, trying to joke and lighten the mood. i completely lost it and used up a lot of energy. »

why is he telling sukuna this? what does he have to gain?

did he think he would care? offer reassurance? to have fallen so low that humans have begun treating him as if he were the one to guide souls to the afterlife.

if he could, he would devour this brat’s soul right then and there.

« i’ll cut to the chase. »

yuji sighed, this time his eyes tinged with wistfulness that made his smile bittersweet.

« my time is running out, and it’s high time that i passed on… but i have one regret that i have trouble letting go of. » he admits.

the brat’s desires and regrets were the least of sukuna’s concern. what is one mortal’s regrets to a god? no one died without regrets, and yet, humans continued to weep over them to anyone who was willing to listen as if they were the only ones who died with unfinished business.

and their regrets were always the same anyway. repetitive and boring. wishing they had said that, wishing they had done that, wishing they had been there for that person. it’s all the same. he’s heard it all. he is not a god who grants wishes or second chances, and even if he had that power, he wouldn’t waste it on something as impotent as humans.

« as i was leaving the house, i got in an argument with megumi and ran off. he confesses. it was a really stupid argument. he laughes bashfully. and i said some really insensitive things to him. »

just as sukuna thought.

he’s the same. his wishes were the same. they’re all the same.

yuji looks down, his smile faltering, his lips trembling; his happy facade was cracking slightly, but he mustered the strength to stop himself from crying.

« if i had known that was gonna be the last time i’d ever talk with him, i wouldn’t have been so mean. » he says, his voice quieter.

yuji clenches and unclenches his hand before looking back up at the other soul.

« i’m sure megumi must think the same thing, and i don’t want him to blame himself. he laughs ruefully. i can’t let things end that way. »

yuji bows.

« if you wouldn’t mind doing me a favour, would you please let my boyfriend know that i was sorry? »

sukuna leers at him and groans inwardly. what is this brat going on about? he’s not making any sense. babbling about regrets and this and that. as if it mattered why or when someone died; who they left behind.

he’s dead already. what does he have to gain from passing on that message?

unaware of the god’s disinterest, yuji continued to ramble to himself.

« i mean, i thought about sending a farewell message, but my hands wouldn’t move. » yuji chuckles, wriggling his fingers.

but that’s how humans were, wasn’t it? sukuna scoffs. for as long as he can remember, humans were always stupid and incomprehensible, much in the same way the one that stood before him was being. begging despite knowing they would receive no mercy from him, wishing despite knowing it will never be granted, especially not by him.

« you’re asking for the impossible. » sukuna derides.

« huh? » yuji’s face fell as he tilted his head, confused.

« i am bound to this place. my body has been stolen by sorcerers. sukuna explains boredly. thanks to that, here i am. pieces of my soul just barely clinging to where my fingers are. »

yuji’s eyebrows knit together as he tried to make sense of what sukuna just told him. sukuna wonders if the brat would even understand. he clearly wasn’t a sorcerer, not a single ounce of potential to be one in him. he just happened to die near where one of his fingers were hidden.

yuji flicked his gaze down as he tried thinking about it, and he realised it didn’t make much sense. parts of his soul were locked inside fingers? he doesn’t quite get it, but if this was a spirit, then anything might as well be possible, right?

« then, in that case, take my body. » yuji offered earnestly, committed.

he pointed to a distance behind him, as if concepts and measures of direction existed in this space.

« it’s buried under all those cars and won’t move, but maybe you can use it? he suggested. would you grant me my request then? »

determined and hopeful amber eyes stared unflinchingly at stoic and austere crimson eyes.

was the brat really offering himself to be a vessel?

« sure. » sukuna says noncommittally.

reassured, the brat thanked him and his soul was able to move on.

if only sukuna had the same luxury.

he only agreed on a whim. he didn’t give a damn about the brat’s situation. chances were his body would be too weak to handle his spirit to be a proper vessel and will perish.

in the many centuries sukuna had been trapped, he had tried to escape multiple times, each attempt ending in failure. life in this world were all too weak to host him, form falling apart not long after sukuna possessed it. nothing was strong enough to withstand his power without expiring, and chances are, this brat’s body was the same.

but he agreed anyway, because if it had any potential, then there was no harm in trying.

anything to escape from this nightmare.

because if it worked, there’d be no more darkness.

« i didn’t… i just- i was irritable that day, and… »

this time, he hears a different voice. different from that brat earlier; deeper, less expressive, yet noticeably grief-stricken compared to the brat, who kept trying to appear jovial.

his hearing came first. his sight followed.

he blinked, his eyelids feeling heavy, as if he just woke up from a deep slumber. his gaze was unfocused, blurry. he blinked a few more times until everything was clearer. now that he could see fully unhindered, he was caught off guard by how bright everything was.

he was… in a bed. there was a clean, white blanket draped over his body. the walls were painted a dull beige. a table off in the corner held a vase of flowers.

it doesn't feel like him, but it must be him. because he can feel fabric against his skin, and warmth from the light bouncing off his skin, and the humming of the machinery in the room. his body feels foreign, but it is him.

as he got used to unfamiliar light that invaded his sight, he darted his gaze around. he sees colours, and things, and objects, and humans. people.

who are they?

a young woman with chin length auburn hair, comforting the man beside her with a worried look in her brown eyes.

the one beside her was a young man, who sat next to where sukuna lied, with unruly black hair and pale skin. so pale it made the dark lines under his eyes stand out even more. he continued to bite at his lips; he looked more shaken than the woman, his deep green eyes staring at the floor, eyes puffy and red. has he been crying?

sukuna continued to stare at the young man.

grief and agony looked beautiful on him.

humans were distasteful and unsightly creatures, but hopelessness has never been so captivating before.

he closed his eyes to rest them. after so long without being able to feel a thing, this was an abrupt and violent change.

what are they talking about?

the two people continued to converse, though it would be more accurate to say that the young man mumbled incessant self-blame and his companion tried to console him, despite it being clear that she was just as distressed as him.

sukuna slowly peels his eyes open again and tentatively moves his arm.

the limb felt like lead. the feeling of moving now foreign to him.

even so, his left arm lifts up with his will, and he spreads his hand open, watching his hand as he turns it around, observing the palm, testingly moving his fingers.

is this… his hand?

« yuji…? » the young man exclaimed, half in a whisper of disbelief and half in a shout of joy, his eyes wide in comforted surprise.

even the woman next to him was shocked, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as she fought back tears.

that’s right. he was using the brat’s body.

was this ‘megumi’ then?

‘megumi’ face shifts into shock, then relieved elation, before he jumps to hold sukuna’s outstretched hand. his long, delicate fingers wrapped around sukuna’s as his lips quirked up into a small, shaky smile, beyond relieved. tears began to bead in the corner of his eyes when megumi moved to engulf sukuna in a tight hug, his arms wrapping around sukuna’s middle and his hands grasping his clothes tightly, afraid that ‘yuji’ would disappear if he let go, his face buried in the crook of sukuna’s neck.

sukuna’s eyes slowly flickered to the body embracing him.

it felt warm.

there’s a subtle “thump. thump. thump.” coming from megumi’s chest. his heartbeat.

he can feel.

sukuna shakily moved his hands up to mirror megumi’s actions, loosely hugging the sniffling man back.

he can move.

sukuna’s eyes slowly flickered from megumi to the open window on the wall adjacent to his bed. the wind blew softly into the room, the curtains fluttering, and light softly flooded the space, bathing his room with a brightness and warmth he had been deprived of. a brightness he never thought he would come to miss and yearn for.

how many centuries had it been since he’d seen light?

he focuses his senses back to megumi, who was still holding on to him, mumbling something sukuna doesn’t bother to listen to. the woman seemed to have recovered from her shock as she had approached the two of them and hugged them.

her body was warm as well.

how many years had it been since he’d felt warm?

he wants to laugh, burst into a loud cackle. ah, he knew it: the light felt best in the flesh. he’s so tired of being trapped in the endless cold darkness, confined to a cursed spirit’s flesh. but it seemed that this body was still too weak.

the most his vessel can muster is a crooked grin and a soft chuckle.

this will make do for now, but he needs to get his normal body back. this weak body is inconvenient.

a vision of the spirit he conversed with flashed in his mind. itadori yuji, his memory supplied. this was his body.

« … megumi…? » sukuna croaks out, his throat dry.

he licks his lips. he’s unsure if it was real or simply psychological; his own throat probably raw from lack of use, though yuji’s should be fine.

the two other people pull away to peer at him worriedly, giving him time and patiently waiting for him to speak.

megumi holds sukuna’s hand, his thumb softly caressing the back of it, encouraging.

« what is it? » he asks quietly.

sukuna pauses to taste the words in his mouth.

« i want to apologise for our argument earlier. i’m sorry. » he says, though he’s not sure why he’s trying to even sound apologetic.

megumi is expressionless until realisation dawned on him. he just smiled sorrowfully and shook his head.

« don’t worry about that. it doesn’t matter anymore. » he reassures him.

megumi pulls sukuna closer, the latter’s head resting on his chest. the rhythmic beating of megumi’s heart pleasing sukuna.

« i’m just glad you’re ok, yuji. » megumi whispers.

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[loyally-unfaithful]

jjk characters as genshin players hc

word count: 2.6k

pairing: gen

genre: humour

characters: itadori yuji, sukuna, fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara

prompt: jujutsu kaisen characters as types of genshin impact players; exactly what the title says: the type of genshin impact players the first years (+ sukuna) are, their main and their team, their favourite region, and their spending level. along with just random headcanons about their genshin experience.

a/n: mk so this goes without saying but do NOT take this seriously and especially not personally. this is a joke, up for laughs. some of their thoughts and headcanons and peeves are obviously based on my own and my friend's genshin impact experience which may or may not be similar to yours.

with that said, hope you enjoy this silly little thing i wrote. lmk if you share the same peeves and opinions, or if you don't; it's always fun to listen to different takes lmao

(for ppl who have been reading my pacific rim!au, i still want to write the fic, but i wanna focus on my studies since they’ve started. updates will happen, just irregularly, sorry ‘bout that :p gonna write shorter stuff instead to just destress.)

itadori yuji

main: bennett main, but recently pulled an accidental sucrose while rolling for raiden so he started playing as her a lot :)

main team: klee, bennett, fischl, sucrose.

favourite region: mondstadt, because of the nostalgia factor.

spender level: light-spender. i imagine he bought battle pass once for a weapon and bought welkins a few times, but usually doesn’t spend more than that. sometimes he commits an act of hubris he never recovers from because he’s a bit impulsive with his money and buys crystal top ups for his gambling addiction.

he spent money sometime to get a 5* unit he really wanted like klee, but overall he’s not too concerned with getting every 5* or 4*. not quite dolphin level.

the type to pull on any banner when he has gems and doesn’t rlly keep track of his roll count. he doesn’t care if a unit is meta or not, when he gets a unit he does a happy little dance.

he’s happy playing whoever he has :)

his luck is quite decent tho! usually gets a 5* unit in soft pity or before that, and has won more 50/50 than lost it.

i just think yuji is a rlly wholesome genshin player.

he’s happy to play whoever in whatever wack fucking team he put together.

character builds? artefact farming? team comp and resonance? he doesn’t really get it, he just reads the tutorial for the free (1) primogem and moves on.

tries to build the units he really really likes, but doesn’t think too hard about it.

dies from drowning and running out of stamina while climbing a lot tho :(

he plays abyss sometimes, but the higher levels stress him out so he kinda stays away lol

the type to feel rlly bad when his unit dies or gets hurt :( especially when klee gets hit because she starts crying :( his big brother instinct...

his artefacts and weapons are ok, and he does ok to small pp damage but it’s alright because he’s having fun exploring the world and playing coop.

he lets randos join his world to steal his resources or go fishing :) what a nice guy :)

nobara and gojo probably go to his world to steal his resources and then dip.

he’s probably someone who enjoys the coop aspect a lot, and ppl tend to like him too because if you scorn your healer (bennett) you are left for dead.

not yuji tho :���) he’d still heal you.

but i’m not nearly as merciful as yuji.

he tries to solve puzzles because he likes exploring, but ends up having to watch youtube tutorials or ask megumi to join his world and help him.

sometimes if he struggles with open world challenges because of his underlevelled-underpowered team, he uses megumi as a powerful summon and he carries him.

he tries to pay attention to the story and lore, but he forgets it immediately as soon as the archon quest is over, bless his heart.

tries to make his teapot look cute as hell but gets distracted and overwhelmed so it kinda looks like a mess.

probably forgot about it at this point...

sukuna

doesn’t actually play genshin impact.

mf just barely grasped the concept of a phone, he’s too lost to know what the impact of genshin is.

he just knows it’s annoying as fuck because it’s 3 am in the morning and he’s trying to get some him time and luxuriate in his domin onsen when he just hears a sultry voice go « cool it! » « dodge this!» « what’s the hurry?» « dodge this!»

literally not a single second of peace.

whenever the brat plays ‘genshin impact’, voicelines constantly play and annoy him.

sometimes he watches yuji play thru the fish gill eye, but it’s pretty boring for him.

it’s funny to see him get absolutely destroyed in abyss tho

his favourite part of 3am.

he absolutely abhors inazuma.

he thinks it’s a blatantly erroneous and inaccurate representation, nay, caricature, of japan.

he sees yae miko and wonders why a miko is dressed like a harlot. he is scandalised.

nobara 🤝 sukuna hates the costume design of some of the inazuma units.

sukuna is baffled by what sara is wearing. he thinks it’s ugly and unsightly.

yuji tells him it’s a body stocking type thing.

sukuna continues calling it a body sock though.

that much leg?? in his feudal japan?? not on his watch.

only he's allowed to be a slut >:(

is lowkey irked by how inaccurate things are but yuji doesn’t know what he expected from a video game.

inazuma is probably a way to con sukuna into opening up about his past. or at least make him tell you lore about how life was in the heian era.

because he’ll interject and insert himself randomly by saying how back in his day it wasn’t like this but actually like that and so on and so forth.

he was intrigued by raiden ei at first because she’s a fellow deity who rules her nation with an iron first but then was absolutely disappointed when the game woobified her and pulled the “she’s not actually that bad” bit.

he will spit on her with no hesitation.

he will also spit on zhongli and venti with no hesitation because they’re weak and soft.

he wants an unapologetically evil character gdi

i know he isn’t out yet (or ever) but i feel like if sukuna played genshin impact he would main scaramouche.

there’s something about the way that their characters just intersect.

short angry little thing.

like, no one in genshin impact are mean enough they’re all so passive.

scaramouche would talk shit about his opponents.

truly has bastard energy.

sukuna 🤝 scaramouche fatfuck

funnily enough, i imagine sukuna actually has godlike rng luck.

when yuji learnt this he exploits it.

he just asked sukuna to pull for him cuz he was bored and sukuna happened to be equally as bored so he played along, and yuji pulled 2 5* units and another 4* unit in one 10 pull.

when i say his eyes bulged out of their sockets.

out of curiosity, he asked sukuna to do another 10 pull and he got 6 4* items.

what the actual fuck.

so now whenever there’s a banner, yuji asks sukuna to pull for him and bless his pulls.

sukuna makes him beg for it tho

fushiguro megumi

main: razor.

main team: razor, bennett, fischl, zhongli.

favourite region: is actually really excited for sumeru (nation of knowledge) and fontaine (nation of justice).

spender level: f2p. he respects himself so he doesn’t spend money on a gacha game. lowkey scorns and looks down on whales (especially gojo).

he has normal luck, he just happened to be really lucky during zhongli banner.

tried pulling in weapon banner for wolf gravestone, but ended up getting staff of homa.

was irked, gave it to zhongli, and never touched the weapon banner ever again.

the type of person who partakes in leaks so he can plan ahead on what banner he’s pulling or skipping.

he usually waits until the last few days of the character banner to pull because he waits for the reviews to come in to see if the units are worth it or not.

currently saving up for goro.

a hardcore min-maxer. he has made excel spreadsheets and done the maths to maximise his team dmg. his lvl50 razor with prototype rancour does bigger damage than a lvl90 razor with skyward pride (he thinks that sword is overhyped for razor and people who use it are on max dosage of copium).

an f2p that does whale damage.

but he puts a lot of thoughts into team comps (bennett for healing and buff, fischl for battery, and zhongli for mob phys res decrease) and is always open to suggestions to improve his setup.

probably in the razor main discord and reddit.

godlike artefacts. he farmed for a long time without ever spending money or using resin refresher. sheer will and determination carried him.

probably does lvl90 domain runs solo because he’s more efficient by himself than in coop. usually finishes a level in sub-1min.

will spit at people who share their artefact finds on discord and say “OMGJKDJF SHUITTING MYSELF THIS ARTEFACT IS SO GOOD” but then the artefact is a sands of eons with ER% main stat and def% and hp substat, with all of the boosts rolling into def instead of flat atk or crit%, and is given to diluc.

will either ignore or just straight up respond with:

« lmao »

« copium »

and doesn’t elaborate.

is actually decently helpful with giving character builds and team comps suggestions for you if you’re not a smug cocky piece of shit who flaunts a disgusting artefact that you delude yourself into thinking is good and then your little circlejerk clap and go « omg yes bestie your rng luck is so good. »

gives character build tips to yuji mostly. nobara only when she asks him.

likes to discuss findings with maki, another hardcore minmaxer, perhaps even more hardcore than him.

probably a recovering touhou player so he never gets hit in genshin impact. doesn’t actually need healers or shields because he’s that good at timing his i-frames.

does abyss every reset and usually beats it easily.

yuji gave him his account detail so sometimes megumi tries to do his abyss for him (with mixed result because of yuji’s lackluster units). sometimes yuji asks megumi to look at his artefacts for him and help him choose what to give to who.

megumi is absolutely horrified to see that his artefact inventory is nearly full and he hoards 5*-4* artefacts, even the shitty ones.

megumi asks if he can cannibalise/delete the shitty artefacts as they go through them together.

yuji’s like??

« oh… is that bad? it had crit dmg substat though… »

megumi is staring at the hp% circlet meant for klee.

he can’t relate because as soon as he gets an imperfect artefact he just immediately cannibalises it for something else.

he continues helping him with spring cleaning though.

he lets yuji join his world, but doesn’t let randos in. gojo is straight up banished from joining. usually it’s the other way around though: he joins yuji’s world.

yuji is replacing the bennett and fischl in his team comp, and he isn’t as efficient as if he was playing solo, but it’s ok because it’s not abyss.

megumi is definitely the type of guy to know every puzzle and chest locations so he likes leading yuji to those whenever he visits.

megumi probably solved all the puzzles in inazuma without using youtube tutorials. he 100% dragonspine in the first few days it came out, before guides were published.

yuji is just killing mobs and then suddenly in the chat megumi’s just « chest here. ».

yuji teleports there and he sees razor jumping up and down next to a luxurious chest.

yuji often goes to megumi's sereniteapot to buy from the merchant for his battle pass exp. the interior of his teapot is super neat and organised, the decor is simple and minimalist but it works.

it's very "megumi".

also, he’s probably into theorycrafting.

even so, he finds the story and lore intriguing, but he thinks the storytelling could be better because it’s pretty bland and bad. no, infodumping is not a good storytelling technique, in this essay he will

100% thinks baal should’ve received a bigger backlash for the shit she pulled in inazuma.

in a heated disagreement with nobara: baal is absolutely not girlboss, but she is indeed gatekeep and gaslight. she is war criminal (like the other archons).

kugisaki nobara

main: raiden ei.

main team: ningguang, jean, beidou, raiden.

favourite region: inazuma.

spender level: light-spender. similarly to yuji, she sometimes commits acts of hubris from which she will never recover from. she sees good looking female units and goes absolutely feral. next thing she knew she had c2 baal and spent over 500$ on genshin impact.

nobara is probably the type of person you could probably scam a lot of money out of by selling her skins.

she has the barbara skin and bought the jean skin.

if more skins dropped she will buy them with 0 hesitation.

her favourite thing is customisation, so she hopes other units gets alternate outfits too.

gets irked by the lack of windglider options. wished there were more colour schemes so she could give her units gliders that fit their theme more.

she’s currently saving up for yae as her wallet is recovering from kokomi.

she doesn’t care whether they’re meta or not, she’s here to collect the waifus.

skips male 5* banners and only pulls for female units.

that being said she absolutely fucking regrets skipping zhongli.

she is staring enviously at megumi’s (f2p) c2 zhongli.

no cap but she will never be not upset about baal’s lackluster synergy with beidou. nobara has more loyalty to beidou because her early game beidou carried her since the beginning (like how megumi’s early game razor carried him).

still puts the two of them in the same team out of pure spite.

but sometimes she swaps raiden out for rosaria.

this doesn’t stop her from using raiden as her genshin pfp and using her namecard.

day 1 of raiden banner and her raiden is already lvl90 and on the way to lvl10 friendship.

she prefarmed her materials and is now broke.

ended up spending more money on weapon banner for raiden’s 5* weapon.

nobara's teapot either looks super nice or it looks like someone who just moved into their new apartment and everything is on the floor with no rhyme or reason. nobara tries her best to make everything look good and pretty because she doesn't want her teapot to look ugly, but ends up overthinking and overplanning it so she's stressed as hell.

nobara is constantly beating up trees.

the type to implusively change the decor and layout every month because for some reason she suddenly decided she didn't like the current design anymore.

she picked lumine as her traveler.

but looks down on the lumine mains that keep demanding lumine official art from mihoyo, because she thinks they’re on heavy copium for thinking mihoyo will listen to them.

also highkey thinks they sound like bratty whiners and she’s not here for it.

but she’s a hypocrite because she is shouting on twitter and reddit for an electro element buff and baal buff ksljfslkdjfsfjkfsjd

that being said, nobara absolutely looks down on mihoyo and will not hesitate to talk shit about them. especially because of how stingy they are and how wack the rng is in the game. there’s so many bugs and translation errors and it fucks her up.

she definitely threw a fit at the anniversary rewards.

has a love hate relationship with the female costume designs.

she loves characters like fischl and ningguang. then she see ganyu’s and sara’s design and starts spitting.

she doesn’t know what the fuck they’re wearing; some shitty body stocking that is unflattering and leaves nothing to the imagination, but she thinks it’s so ugly.

the fucking?? boob pockets?? what’s up with that. ugly.

hates it.

yuji casually mentions sara sounds a bit like her, and it triggered her fight or flight.

she’s an ok player, but is prone to fits and ragequits, especially in abyss. her units are decently built, but nothing like megumi, so she still struggles (not as much as yuji though. she's still better than him lmao).

she’s not a min maxer, she just has a general idea on how to build characters.

also, unlike megumi, she also doesn’t have the touhou experience.

absolutely seethes when her units get caught in animation, so she can’t do a single thing as her units just stagger until they die.

people can tell when she’s playing genshin because you can hear her scream and shout profanities.

is a pc player and absolutely spits on mobile players.

until she learnt that maki plays on mobile.

suddenly she stopped looking down on mobile players.

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[loyally-unfaithful]

pacific rim!au — sukuna (II)

word count: 2k

summary: clumsily rummaging through his desk drawer, manuals and papers methodically arranged, he pulls out a pristine notebook, untouched except for the “dream journal” label he added in neat script on the front cover and his full name under it.

blank pages reveal themselves to him as megumi opens the journal. he only bought it for formalities and to appease his therapist. shoko said it would help untangle the muddled mess in his head. something about writing down your thoughts and feelings to make sense of them, unscrambling his frayed mind and memories by deciphering what his dreams are trying to tell him.

yeah, he wasn’t too enthused with the idea. but maybe he should’ve listened.

a/n: by far, i think this is the longest chapter yet! more sukuna crumbs except they're not really crumbs because subtlety is not my forte,,, i had an idea, but in the end felt a bit eh... about how i articulated it in this chapter,,, it just felt all over the place for me, cause i feel like i tried to say too much, but it is what it is. i hope that it makes sense for you guys :]

p.s. the names for megumi's dogs, miyo (divine dog white) & taro (divine dog black) was taken from lyrebirds' fic, the long con! pls check them out too and read their fics ! !

heads-up

i write dialogues in what i will call the french/european system? anyway, i see that it’s not the dialogue formatting that most english readers are accustomed to so i modified it slightly to be easier to understand. basically dialogues will be within guillemets (« »), and words that are within the quotation marks but are italicised are actions and/or dialogue verbs.

oh that’s right, sometimes, a new sentence will begin with an en-dash (–), which means that it’s a different speaker.

hope that clears things out a bit and i hope you give me and my fic a chance :)

megumi’s eye slowly peeled open and he blearily looked around the room.

yeah. that pounding is not just his head.

he lifts himself off of his bed with a strained grunt, and ambled his way towards his door; his dogs swerving cleanly out of his way, but still trailing protectively behind him. someone was in a fucking hurry, he thought as he reached for the lock. the insistent knocking, hammering really at this point, has become downright maddening. the dark haired male sighs heavily as he makes a guess at whoever decided to pester him while he was still in recovery. probably gojo-sensei… typical gojo-sensei behaviour if he was quite honest.

megumi grumbles something under his breath as he wrings the heavy door open, the hinges groaning as it swings. he’s really not in the mood for gojo’s shit right now.

but rather than his characteristic mop of white locks, ridiculous sunglasses, and too wide and saccharine grin, megumi was met with two pink haired teens. one looking sheepish, the other looking like he’d rather be anywhere but besides his brother. said brother having a tight grip on sukuna’s arm, making sure that he wasn’t getting out of this.

« what is it? » he questions the two.

he can finally speak without stammering, thank fuck, but his words come out muffled.

yuji catches a glimpse of his bed, pillows tousled and blanket thrown out of place, slightly bunched up. he immediately felt bad interrupting his rest.

« ah, did we get you at a bad time? yuji winced. sorry about that… »

megumi raises both brows, unimpressed. well, that was the intent. judging by his inability to speak beyond a mumble and his peers’ worried faces at his expression, only one side of his face was actually emoting.

« er… a-are you okay? » yuji asked, concerned.

« i’m not having a stroke, and shoko-san said it’ll go away. » megumi muttered matter-of-factly.

« oh… ok… » yuji replied, despite sounding unconvinced.

megumi didn’t really care whether he was convinced or not, he’s tired and honestly this display of frailty is humiliating.

the “conversation” died off after that.

he sighs: « if you just wanted to check up on me, i’m going back to bed. »

« ah! no, wait! » yuji calls out as megumi begins to turn around and move to close the door.

megumi flinched, yuji’s voice a tad bit too loud. the latter instantly shrunk down and toned his volume all the way down to a near whisper.

« sorry, i mean, we came here because sukuna has something to tell you. »

he tugs at where he’s grabbing his brother, who was shifting uncomfortably where he stood, and pulled him closer.

« right, sukuna?? » yuji prodded.

his brother kept his gaze away from the injured male, hands shoved deeply in his pockets as he pouted. yuji sighs, more than familiar with this routine. it was probably a pride thing or something, but his brother was never too keen on admitting he was wrong or apologising to someone he wronged, even if he did feel bad for his actions.

yuji moves to bow before megumi, and removes his grip from sukuna’s arm, opting to grab his head instead and pull him down to a bow next to him. the latter makes an undignified yelp as he is pulled forwards, stumbling slightly, his steps catching, and staggers to keep himself from falling. his hands have come out of his pockets, arms dangling limply on his side as he stands petrified, stiff as a board.

honestly, he looks like a very uncomfortable and unhappy cat being grabbed by the scruff of its neck after being caught doing something it shouldn’t have. if he was in the right mind, megumi would probably crack a smirk at this uncommon display.

« on the behalf of my brother, i wanted to apologise to you for what happened yesterday. he doesn’t like saying it, but he is sorry. » yuji admits sincerely.

he lifts his head back up and sukuna looks infinitely relieved to be released from a presumably very embarrassing position for someone as prideful as he. yuji offers megumi a warm goofy grin and gently elbows his brother’s side, encouraging him.

sukuna seemed to get the message and mutters out a very quiet and stilted: « hope… feel better… soon… »

satisfied with his well wishes, yuji quickly excused himself to allow megumi to get some well deserved and needed sleep.

giving an acknowledging nod, megumi finally closes his door, which sealed with a loud thump and locked with a loud click. a sudden burst of curiosity possessed him though, and he peeked through the peephole, witnessing a sulking sukuna trail behind his brother, who happily told him that « see? was that so hard? »

megumi sighs, removing himself off of the gap he was peeping from.

he throws himself back on the mattress and shuffles around, swings from one side to the other, shifts from one position to the other, trying to find sleep once more. but it probably wasn’t coming anytime soon. he groans, smothering his face with his pillow. ah, what a tiring and troublesome life he has. if it wasn’t the brothers waking him up from sleep, then it was the nightmares. he pushes himself back on his back.

his clothes feel disgusting, sticking to his skin from his cold sweat. he wonders if they noticed. probably. he’s too worn to care too much about that though.

as he stares absentmindedly at the ceiling, the corners slightly rusted, he realises that right after disconnecting himself from the drift, he couldn’t actually remember if he’s seen anything in there. the picture is still unclear to be honest, but now there’s a feeling in the back of his mind that’s urging him to try and grasp at whatever he can recall. like there was something he knew intimately, but had forgotten.

his nightmares; nightmares are normal. and for jaeger pilots, even more so considering the monstrosities and horrors they have to experience on a near daily basis. but come to think of it, the ones he just woke up to are new.

the nightmares he just witnessed. he doesn’t think it belonged to him.

this time, he throws himself off the bed and limps over to his desk, his two dogs watching him attentively.

if they’re not nightmares then…

clumsily rummaging through his desk drawer, manuals and papers methodically arranged, he pulls out a pristine notebook, untouched except for the “dream journal” label he added in neat script on the front cover and his full name under it.

blank pages reveal themselves to him as megumi opens the journal. he only bought it for formalities and to appease his therapist. shoko said it would help untangle the muddled mess in his head. something about writing down your thoughts and feelings to make sense of them, unscrambling his frayed mind and memories by deciphering what his dreams are trying to tell him.

yeah, he wasn’t too enthused with the idea. but maybe he should’ve listened.

he should’ve listened to a lot of things. his shrink, his mentor, her. but he didn’t, and look where he is right now. he grits his teeth, and runs a hand through his currently messier messy hair, the white pages mocking him.

better late than never, right? that’s what the psych analyst would tell him. megumi reaches for a pen, and tries to remember the images, the conversations, the scenes, that were revealed to him.

he begins writing.

the visions that flashed by didn’t belong to him. they belong to sukuna.

the dreams started off perfectly normal and mundane. typical memories one would expect a kid would have. in fact, it was more jarring to see sukuna had a completely normal childhood alongside his brother: it was odd. for someone who carried himself with so much self-conceit, he placed a great deal of importance and devotion on yuji. despite the way he treats yuji and the way he sometimes talks about him, he envied his brother and looked up to him, though for what, the memory escaped megumi.

he continues pulling at the straws, and jotting them down; handwriting messier than what he would’ve liked, and drift hangover be damned, he will apply himself to try and tidy it up.

unlike yuji’s memories, sukuna’s were a mess of blurs. yuji’s memories were something he was deeply familiar with now, and something he strangely found comfort in. despite it all, everything about the boy could be qualified as warm: the way he viewed his own past, his own innermost thoughts, they were warm, and cosy, and familiar, and safe. like a tight embrace, hot coffee during a cold morning, the airy jingle of the wind chime announcing a refreshing breeze on a hot summer afternoon, and the comforting smell of home. on the other hand, megumi likened sukuna’s memories to a flash flood of emotions. it was unfamiliar and unknown, a far-off tune he can’t quite pick up nor get used to. he was discordant and uncomfortable: a close friend who had left, stale old coffee. like cold tile biting into your skin, pellets of rain hitting your body when you’re caught in a torrential downpour, an aggravating leaf blower during a weekend morning, and flowers that were no longer in season.

megumi wants to chalk it up to the atypical drifting condition he was subjected to, but he can’t help but feel as if sukuna’s turmoil is not purely coincidental. it’s a mess of non linear scenes, jumping from one period of life to the other. it’s an absolute nightmare to journal what he saw.

he sees sukuna be congratulated by his brother for excelling well during his kyūdō* competition back in middle school, and as a reward yuji prepared him his favourite food.

he sees sukuna, who was probably still in pre-school, catch a butterfly and tear its wings, and he feels the ecstasy that coursed through his veins as he giggled, watching the poor creature writhe in pain.

he sees a grade-school sukuna being told off by yuji, who told him to stop maiming stray animals and to direct his energy elsewhere, to something else that was positive, to something that would help people. he sees sukuna beat a few students half to death in middle school after witnessing them mocking a poor girl who just wanted to confess to one of them, and feel betrayed when he was severely reprimanded for trying to do a good deed, as his brother asked him to.

he sees yuji share his snacks or his meals with his brother when the latter seemed to still be in a ravenous mood. he sees him get asked by his brother if he preferred to have superhero bandaids or hello kitty bandaids when he was getting patched up back in kindergarten.

he sees—

a sudden primal fear surges from within his soul, his entire being, and he shivers, the hair on the back of his neck standing. the pen halts with a rough scratch, and his chest heaves with how hard he’s breathing. he jolts up, in high alert, and scans his surroundings, his heart a jackrabbit in his chest, thumping so loud he can feel it in his ears. megumi clasps his hands over his mouth, trying to quiet his breath, but he can’t, he can’t.

he can’t let it find him.

it?

what’s it?

he doesn’t know. he doesn’t like that he doesn’t know.

what’s it? what’s after him??

he feels an overpowering presence behind him that sets off his fight or flight instincts. the presence of a primordial beast, a feat of nature, that he stands no chance against.

behind him: the door. the door. the door. he quickly swivels around to stare at the doorway.

he closed it. he closed it. he knows he did. but it’s slightly ajar, a small draft permeating into the room. it’s colder now. outside of the confines of his room, only darkness reigned. but somewhere in the vast inky blackness, there are two shining blue orbs locked onto him. its true size looming from beyond the barrier.

on the brink of hyperventilating, his visions blurring, he looked left and right with wide eyes, a bead of cold sweat trailing down his face.

but then, something cold and slightly damp nuzzled his arm, and it snapped megumi out of his stupor.

looking down, he sees his dogs prod at him worriedly. taro, the black one and slightly bigger of the two, has his paw on megumi’s leg and licks his arm, trying to get his attention; miyo, the white one, is right next to his littermate and whines at his distraught owner, head tilted in confusion.

he shakes his head. he’s seeing things. he looks back at his door: closed shut. megumi slumps down and buries his head in his head, rubbing his eyes. he laughs tiredly, devoid of humour. what the hell was that? he really is losing his mind. there is no kaiju. there’s no way a kaiju is waiting for him right outside, just waiting to smash its claws right through the metal and devour him. the door is closed. he locked it shut. he takes a deep shuddering breath and forces himself to calm down, leaning back on his chair as he stares at his hands, laying uselessly on his lap.

what even got to him? he doesn’t even know where this sudden paranoia came from.

as his mind recovers from the fright, he realises that this fear wasn’t his.

it was sukuna’s.

it was the fear that he would inevitably succumb to whenever a breach was about to open. some time before the kaiju would emerge from the ocean, he would drown and choke on panic.

god. so that’s how it worked huh? so that’s how he was able to predict when and where breaches would form. what the fuck was up with the itadoris? one can rip a jaeger apart with his bare hands, the other was… in tune with breach activity… and can fuck with people’s minds inside the drift.

but something is really not right with these memories.

megumi shakes his head a final time for posterity, and to steel himself, and tries to start back from where he left off.

sukuna gets… nightmares. megumi wants to call them nightmares, but they’re much too vivid and clear to be simple reveries. they flash by much faster than the rest, but it possesses the same clarity as the rest of his memories. the dark haired male remembers that memories from very young childhood pass by much faster than the rest, nearly imperceptible, simply because the owner does not consciously remember them either. so rather than bad dreams, it’s more probable that they’re his childhood memories.

but… why would sukuna have those memories in the first place?

there’s just no way they’re his long buried memories.

because he sees 4 neon blue eyes, insatiable hunger reflected from deep within each red pupil of each eyeball; pure bloodlust seeping, flowing, like the crimson that drips from its two maws, like the wine red liquid that pool around it. because he sees a large 4-armed kaiju with two spear-ended tails and a monstrous mouth on its abdomen, its scaled body covered with lines upon lines of black patterns and markings, towering well above most buildings, towering above most kaijus that the world has ever seen. because he sees needles and hooks spinning bones and sinew together where his, sukuna’s, thorax would be, and he sees the rest of his skeletal structure, unfinished and not yet fitted with flesh. he was suspended in some alien machinery and before sukuna stood bizarre creatures. they wore crowns made of chitins fused to their spidery bodies, their beady opal eyes iridescent yet darker than dark. sucking you in their gaze, trapping you in their vastness that would rend anyone mad. they spoke not in human tongue, clicking and chittering, and yet he, sukuna, understood their words in perfect clarity.

because he hears an order that shocks him all the way to his core, and for a split second, he feels the uncontrollable impulse to follow the directive, abruptly standing up and knocking his chair back, startling miyo and taro.

« exterminate the vermin; humans. »

definitions

kyūdō: the japanese martial art of archery.

a/n: aha,,, the plot thickens,,, where will it go for the next chapter? nobody knows (not even me).

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