#( ⊱ ━ 𝐀.┊honesty hour. )

[sanatomis]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ── 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄!

a child is bound to feel neglected when they discover no one bothered to show up for their science fair, especially when all their peers have someone to dote on them. it seems fushiguro megumi is no exception.

content. female!reader with she/her pronouns, feminine nicknames (princess), established relationship with satoru, slight angst with a happy ending.

notes. nobody was there when i presented my end of the year research-project as a 14 year old, so megumi (age 7), baby, i'm gonna make sure there's someone there for you.

࣪taglist. | series masterlist.

Megumi never really cared about science fairs. To him, they’re just a regular afternoon at school that he’ll have to sit through until he’s finally allowed to go home. He may think of them as unnecessary—as he does not believe in a good reason for parents to come to the school and marvel at their child’s (very much mediocre) creation—but he has never had a strong opinion towards them. They were just. . .there. 

He didn’t pay them much mind, and that exact indifference turned out to be the motive behind the very serious crime of putting a flyer in the bin. 

“Look what I found!” 

There’s a sense of annoyance that bubbles up in his stomach when Satoru puts the invitation to the science fair in front of him. Megumi’s brows furrow, and he purses his lips—leave it to him to find something he doesn’t want to have found. 

“Hm?” You hum, and lean over to look. One of Satoru’s fingers taps impatiently on the flyer, as if it’s saying ‘look, I caught him hiding something!’. Megumi briefly contemplates biting the digit clean off. “Science fair. . .Is this yours, Megumi?”

While reading, you put the bowl of rice back down onto the dinner table, and Tsumiki gingerly grabs it upon return. You mouth the words as you do so, and the boy nearly gags when he watches Satoru’s lovesick gaze at your little quip. It’s so disgustingly sappy, he nearly forgets you asked him a question. Nearly, as it had induced just enough anxiety into him to make him remember. 

“Mhm,” he mumbles, and pokes a piece of chicken with his chopsticks. 

You stop reading at his confirmation. There’s a sad look in your eye, it forms quickly and is instantly directed at him. Megumi doesn’t like it. Especially since he’s most likely the cause of it. “Why didn’t you tell us?” You ask, and he finds himself at a loss of words. 

Why didn’t he tell you? In all honesty, it just didn’t occur to him to do so. He has never cared about science fairs, nor has he had people who attended them for him. Most times, they are for parents only—so try as she might, Tsumiki was never allowed inside. Megumi eventually stopped bringing them up. He felt a little sorry for all the failed attempts his sister (very lovingly) made. But now. . .well, yes, why didn’t he tell you? 

He doesn’t know the answer to that. 

“Didn’t think of it,” he says eventually, because he knows you’ve been trying to get him to talk more; verbalising his feelings, is what you called it. 

You frown at his answer, and it makes him wonder if he said the wrong thing. A quick glance between you and the man at your side is shared. Megumi thinks that can’t be good. 

“It says it’s for tomorrow evening,” you tell Satoru, and push the flyer over back to his side of the table. “Are you free, then?”

Satoru pauses. He’s not free, Megumi knows he isn’t. Not because Satoru told him so, but because he listened to the phone call he had a few hours ago. It’s bad manners, he knows—he can hear you in his head, and he shouldn’t have done it. But, Satoru talks so loudly, he should simply quiet down if he doesn’t want others to hear. 

“I sure am,” he says then, and Megumi tries to hide the surprise on his face. He’s lying. Liar. Liar. Liar. It’s all that goes through the boy’s head, but he doesn’t say it out loud. 

He does wonder why Satoru lied, but he quickly gets his answer when he sees the happy smile that breaks out on your lips. “That’s great!” You say, and place one of your hands on his. Seemingly delighted, you look at Megumi. “We’ll be there.” 

“It’s nothing special,” Megumi says. His voice is clear this time, as opposed to his previous mumbling. Once again, he hears you in his head. You’re allowed to make noise. “You really don’t have to.” 

“Nonsense,” Satoru chimes. 

You continue his sentence. “We’ll be there.” 

We’ll be there. 

We’ll be there. 

We’ll be there. 

. . .So, where are you? 

Megumi isn’t too proud to admit that he’s currently desperately looking for the blabbermouth you call your boyfriend. It’s not because he’d rather have him here than you, but his white hair makes for a stark contrast among the crowd. It’s so very easy to find, and yet it’s nowhere to be found. He’s not here, and that, by extension, means you probably aren’t here, either. The realisation hits him harder than he thought it would have. 

For some reason, there’s a deep sadness. He thinks it’s a little silly. Nobody has ever shown up before, and he was fine with that. Being alone isn’t new to him. None of the situation he’s currently in is surprising, and yet Megumi has to fight off the tears welling up in his eyes. Why is he feeling this way? This hasn’t happened before. 

Megumi doesn’t care about science fairs. But, if that were true, then why do all the children and their parents suddenly make the room feel smaller? He swallows. All his classmates are darting around the room, chattering and motioning towards their projects while their parents gawk in feigned awe. As they always did. Except now, he feels something akin to resentment boil from within. His hand balls up into a fist. 

There isn’t a good enough reason for him to feel so disappointed. The position he finds himself in isn’t unfamiliar, and he knows Satoru was initially called-in for a mission somewhere in Ginza. Something came up, that’s all there is to it. Megumi knew better than to get his hopes up, or so he thought. How pitiful.After all this time, he still hasn’t learned.

And suddenly, he’s four years old again, and crawling into the crumpled bed sheets of his father’s ever-so-empty bed. He’s holding onto the fabric as if it’ll slip through his fingers, and stifling his quiet sobs with the pillow that doesn’t carry the same comforting scent any longer. It hasn’t for months now. Megumi keeps hoping that one day, it will. Tsumiki peeks into the room, and he pretends not to notice. He’s four years old, and has no parents, and absolutely no idea why his father left without him. 

Why was he forgotten? 

There is a lump forming in his throat. Its imminent appearance lulled him out of the faded memory, and into the present—the present, where he is, once again, forgotten about. Perhaps that is simply the tale of Megumi Fushiguro. 

“Mom, look! I added the glitter to it just as you said,” a girl speaks from the booth next to him. “What do you think? It’s pretty, right? Do you think it’s pretty?”

Her mother laughs, and pets her head once the girl starts tugging on her arm. “Mhm, it’s beautiful, darling. I’m very proud of you.”

Megumi doesn’t necessarily want to cry. Though, when his eyes water momentarily, there’s very little he can do about it; he feels even more powerless when his bottom lip starts trembling. He once read that blinking rapidly will make one’s tears disappear like snow before the sun, except that article mustn’t have taken the feeling of heartbreak into consideration. It doesn’t matter how much Megumi blinks, the first tear falls down his cheek a few seconds later. 

“Huh? What’s this? You really need to work on your handwriting, Megumi, your name is barely rea. . .” 

A part of him is convinced that the universe has it out for him. There is no other reason for the constant waves of misfortune that strike him. Sniffling, he looks up at the man in front of him—and the worst thought he has ever had surfaces. He is so very happy to see Satoru Gojo. 

Satoru’s eyes widen in shock upon seeing the water staining the boy’s cheeks, but even then Megumi can’t find it within himself to feel embarrassed. Not at this moment. With teary eyes, he blinks up at the tall man that snatched him up from the street like he was some discarded piece of free furniture.

“Where’s. . .” he croaks out, but gets interrupted rather quickly. 

“She’s talking to your teacher,” Satoru says softly. It’s a new tone of voice, one Megumi vaguely remembers as the one he normally reserved for you. This is making him uncomfortable—even a blind person would see that, but Satoru still tries. “Hey, it’s alright, buddy. She’s here.” 

The pat on his head nearly feels awkward. . .No, it does feel awkward. Satoru is petting him as if he were gently pressing a buzzer. It’s not even remotely close to the soft caresses you use when soothing him back to sleep, but it still brings him some strange sense of comfort. Megumi doesn’t swat his hand away. 

“There, there,” Satoru mumbles, and crouches down to his height. It’s a little silly to see such a man all folded up, his legs too long to look normal. “There was an accident a little further down the road. It took us a little longer to get here.”

Megumi lets out a shaky sigh. The petting stops shortly after. It’s quiet for a little while after—even if the room is filled with adults and children alike. Satoru looks at him, and he briefly wonders how you’re able to withstand looking into his eyes for as long as you do sometimes; Megumi thinks the blues will blind him soon. He gulps. For as annoying he might be when speaking, it turns out that Satoru Gojo is much more unnerving when he’s silent—silent, and looking right at you. 

Adorned with white lashes, Satoru’s baby blues pick Megumi apart at the seam. The boy has the brief idea to ask what he is thinking, but then decides against it. 

“Are you okay?”

The sound of his voice startles him. He hadn’t expected him to speak any time soon. 

“Megumi,” he calls out. “Are you okay?”

Is he okay? Megumi doesn’t know for sure. There are a lot of emotions he went through these past twenty minutes, and he isn’t entirely convinced that his brain was able to process them all. But for now—for now, he at least feels okay. 

Megumi nods. It’s all he does, not confident in his ability to verbalise his thoughts at the moment. He sniffs again. He’s okay, things are okay. 

“Good, that’s good,” Satoru mumbles, and his eyes dart towards the right side of the room; towards the door. He clears his throat, and one of his fingers carefully makes its way towards Megumi’s cheek. “That’s good. She’s here now, see?”

Megumi visibly perks up, and, while still a little shaken, starts searching for you. As soon as he lifts his head up, there’s a soft brush against his skin. He wavers for a moment, confusion on his face once he realises Satoru brushed some stray tears away. The two look at each other once again. Why did he. . .

“Oh, there you are, lovie,” you say, relief apparent in your voice. It never takes you long to embrace Megumi—you once said he’d be stuck in your arms forever if you had your way. The boy moulds into you, and his anxiety dissipates as soon as your perfume hits his nose; the scent comforting him. “I’m so sorry, there was an accident, and all roads were blocked, and. . .God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting for so long.” 

You cup his cheeks in his hands, and Megumi suddenly feels under scrutiny. It’s as if you’re searching for any inkling that your late arrival had caused him unease. It clicks, then, why Satoru did what he did. He’s a buffoon most of the time, but it seems there are some working cells left in his brain—when it concerns you, of course. Megumi is very thankful for him now. Though, he will deny ever feeling so. 

“Alright, princess, let him breathe,” Satoru says, the usual light lilt to his voice has made a return. There’s a small smile on his face as he watches you fuss over him. “Don’t you want to show us your project, Megumi?”

The mention of his project catches your attention. “Oh! Yes, will you show us, Gumi?” 

One might think you’re speaking about some grand architecture design rather than a small, barely functioning science project. That is, if they took the look in your eyes as anything to go by. The boy glances between you and Satoru. Megumi then decides that, yes, he would like to show it to you—he always has wanted to show them. 

You weren’t his parents, but you were at his side. And when Megumi looks at the near-giddy excitement showing up on Satoru’s face, and the unconditional support on yours. . .he thinks that may just be enough. 

He nods, and finds his words again. 

“I—I will, yes. Follow me, please.”

© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.

taglist [based off the last fic in the series, let me know if it’s no longer wanted]: @torusdoll @sad-darksoul

[kiatheinsomniac]

──── 𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I had brainrot sorry but I want this man to rail me in inappropriate places.... I should do a coffin next

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: The Undertaker | Adrian Crevan x Reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.3k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, smut, MDNI, sex in a morgue, slight body carving, biting/marking, creampie, can be read as a modern au

You looked so out of place and there was something alluring about it. 

You were laid back against the autopsy table, kicking your feet slightly as you patiently waited for your lover to shrug off his coat and pull on a pair of black latex gloves. You had been curious about his job as an Undertaker and so he thought: what better way than to walk you through it with you as the subject? 

Your heart leapt a little at the sight of him with his hair messily pulled back into a bun, his coat removed to reveal the sleeve garters around his arms, white sleeves pushed up his forearms and contrasting the black waistcoat and tight black trousers he so often wore. His style truly made him irresistible. 

“Now, usually I’d have to begin by washing the body.” He began as he leaned his hands on the table and towered over where you were laid down, “Though, I’m most often tasked with having to remove their clothes by cutting them off as I later dress them in whatever outfit I’m sent, I know how fond you are of this pretty skirt.” He let out a little hum as he tugged on the end of said skirt. “So let me take these off for you.” He needed no help to lift your hips in order to tug it down though you did sit up for him to remove your shirt. He left you in just your white cotton panties and baby blue bra for a moment, admiring your body. The lace of the bralette was so thin, it left absolutely nothing to his imagination as he watched your nipples pebble behind the sheer fabric. “These too, come on.” His voice drawled out and you began to wonder whether he was getting distracted or whether he had planned this all along. 

In all honesty, the Undertaker had fantasised about fucking you on this table for a long time now. He wanted the thrill of it, the memories of how you’d look and sound being fucked over the table that he would spend hours working at every day. Maybe such memories would make the days go faster? Maybe they’d remind him of what he had to look forward to at the end of the day? 

“There you go…” He eased you to lay back down as he folded your clothes up and set them aside. “Usually I’d get out some stronger stuff but…” He brought out a solution of sanitiser that he knew wouldn’t irritate your living skin. “I wouldn’t want to hurt my poppet.” His sentence was punctuated by a kiss to the tip of your nose and a little laugh from him as he stood over you once more. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at being naked and utterly exposed to him like this. 

“That’s cold!” You gasped out when it first touched your skin and he clicked his tongue before pressing a finger to your lips, tapping twice with a smile that was as seductive as it was mischievous. 

“I’m not a doctor, darling;” You took in a sharp breath through your nose when he resumed cleaning your body, “my patients don’t speak.” You did your best to lay still and quiet as he washed your body, fighting the urge to flinch at the initial coldness of the sanitiser against your heated skin. “Now…” He moves on to turn your arms so that they’re palm-up. Latex-covered fingers graze across your wrists, tracing the rivers of your veins beneath your skin, “This is the part where I’d start to drain out all of your blood from here-” His long nails bit into your wrist, even through the gloves he wore, “-or from here,” He then grazed his fingertips up over your arm and to your chest where your heart thumped heavily, making a little detour along the way to tease one of your stiff nipples, “and I’d replace it with a formaldehyde-based solution.” You gasped at the sight of a scalpel in his hands as his fingers ghosted over your abdomen. “I’d have to make an incision or two here to insert a tube so that I could pump you full of solutions to preserve and harden your organs. I’d then close them up and dress you again before I got onto makeup if necessary.” 

He leaned down to press a kiss against where the sharp scalpel had been hovering over your abdomen and you were surprised to see his lips come away smeared with a little bit of blood. You glanced down to the red lip print on your skin that was so slightly beading with blood still, surprised that he had actually cut you. 

“Of course, I cut my patients much deeper.” He clarified with a laugh at your shocked expression before he swiftly grabbed your legs and rotated your body so that you were laid sideways on the table with your legs hanging off. He then gave you no time to recover as he moved you so that you were now bent over it with your chest pressing to the cold metal surface, eliciting a shrill gasp from you at the sensation. 

“But, as much as I love my job, you’re far more interesting to have on my table. You see, you’re all mine and I get to hear all the sweet little noises you make, see how you squirm and twitch, isn’t that right, poppet?” 

You quickly nodded your head with a muffled mmh-hmm as those gloved hands firmly grabbed the softness of your ass, pulling you apart to get a view of your pussy that was now glistening from being so exposed to him and his touches. He hadn’t expected you to be so shy and embarrassed at being so exposed and vulnerable to him on his autopsy table and yet it seemed that you were just as excited by it as him. 

“Ah, another thing…” He began and you cast a little glance over your shoulder at him, finding those bright green eyes fixed between your legs, “Sometimes they don’t come in perfect shape… I might have to cover up bruising with some makeup or fix over some injuries with wax; you understand what I mean, don’t you? I usually have to inspect each patient thoroughly and it seems that you have an irregularity to all my patients right here so you’ll be good while I inspect it, won’t you?” You folded your arms beneath your head and buried your face in them as he angled your hips to face up a little more, his legs dressed in those heeled and high-climbing boots kicking your own apart before falling to your knees. “Won’t you?” He repeated, wanting to hear your submission. 

“I will…” You replied in a murmur, hips jerking just a little at the sensation of his breath on the back of your thigh. 

“Swelling…” He mused as though it were somehow just for him, like your thoughts on this were irrelevant even though it was only done for the sheer purpose of watching your arousal grow in the face of your own humiliation. His comment was joined by gloved fingers prodding at your pussy lips. “Flushed skin too…” He murmured at the rosy tint of your aching flesh. You let out a little whimper when his fingers glided through your slit, gathering wetness and stopping just short of your clit. “Wet too…” You keened at the faint pressure of his fingertips at your entrance. “I should see if I can determine the cause of that.” 

“Adrian!” You let out a cry of his name as his finger sank into you unexpectedly. It was rare that he ever fingered you, opting to usually make you touch yourself in front of his watchful eyes or for him to sloppily make out with your cunt before pushing his dick into you. His long nails wouldn’t allow you to comfortably be fingered by him, you’d only end up with scratched-up insides, but the gloves he was currently wearing protected you from such a risk and the feeling was so surprising, you felt your legs buckle for a moment. 

“Very warm too…” He added to his mental notes as he shallowly pumped his slender finger in and out, rotating it slightly to feel along your walls. You were moving just slightly and he could tell that you were doing your best to not squirm. He wanted to test your limits and so another finger was added to your dripping pussy, making the material of his gloves shine with your arousal. “Tight as well, that’s good.” You could hear the edge of a moan in his voice and knew that he was already imagining how you would feel wrapped around his cock. A squeaked moan left your lips when those fingers brushed over your sweet spot and you pushed your hips back slightly to meet his touch as he hummed in observation. 

You took a moment to ask yourself how you had ended up in this position. Genuine curiosity regarding his job had sparked these flames, yes, but who knew you could get so wet from humiliatingly having your pussy inspected by him like this as though you were just some subject or toy? A whine built in the back of your throat at the constant cycle of being turned on by your own humiliation.“Yes, I see what needs to be done…” You parted your lips to protest, only to let out a cry and try to grapple onto the table when he sank his cock into you in one merciless thrust. He wasted no time in firmly grabbing the curve of your waist to hold you still and stop your hips from hitting into the metal table when he began to deliver a punishing pace to your dripping hole that was already so close to coming around him from your prior stimulation. 

You could feel the way that he leaned over you, the way the band had fallen from his silver hair to allow it to spill over his shoulders and tickle at your back. You were reminded of just how exposed you were when his clothed chest pressed to your back just before his teeth sank into your shoulder, making you whimper at the pain. He messily licked over the small wound, saliva gathering in the indents of his teeth and cooling in the air, sending little shivers through you. It was the first of many marks to be left across your back, shoulders and neck, even going as far up as your jaw. One bite had been particularly hard and you jolted upwards against him, reaching your hands back in a split second to try and push him off of you. It was a futile attempt done without thought, really, as he quickly grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your lower back in one hand. You were given very little room to squirm as your body tensed with a sudden orgasm, walls tightly squeezing around the fat cock mercilessly gliding in and out of your dripping hole.

“Stay down…” He ordered in a low voice by your ear, keeping his lips there to allow you to hear every moan and word of praise he had for you. “Now…” He began as you began to tremble with the overstimulation, the sensation of your walls milking him causing his hips to falter in their pace, becoming sloppier and sloppier. “I couldn’t exactly fill you up with formaldehyde or glutaraldehyde but… I can fill you with something else instead.” A moan, edged with a whimper, left his lips at the sight of your overused pussy creaming around his aching cock, forming a ring at the base. You were so fucking pretty. His orgasm was only spurred on by your eager nodding and broken, whining little begs for his cum. Who was he to deny you after you’d been so sweet to take interest in his job and then had obediently sat through being the subject of his little demonstration? 

You let out a little pained noise at how unintentionally tightly he squeezed your wrists when he finally came inside of you, continuing to grind the head of his cock against your beaten cervix as he came deeply, fucking it all into you. 

“Adrian.” You squeaked out when you concluded that he didn’t realise he was hurting you. Bright green eyes fell to you before he let you go, lacing his fingers through those on one of your hands instead to give you an apologetic squeeze. 

“Sorry, poppet.” He murmured as he leaned down to press soft kisses across the reddening marks on your back and shoulders. “I got a bit lost in the moment.” 

“That’s ok…” You mumbled back, feeling sleepy. You felt him carefully ease himself out of you, leaving you slumped over the table for a mere moment before his coat was being draped over your shoulders and you were being eased upright. 

“Hold these.” A quiet command as he put your folded-up clothes into your hands, his gloves now removed. You were then swept up bridal-style and felt his lips press to your forehead as he carried you out of the morgue and into the entrance of his funeral parlour that had closed hours ago. 

You only opened your eyes to look up at his scarred face once he was laying you down in your shared bed upstairs. You reached up for him with grabby hands and watched as your reaction made him smile and laugh a little before he began stripping out of his clothes for you to see, immediately getting into bed with you and covering both of your bare bodies with a warm blanket. 

“You know… I had been expecting you to just talk me through the process or maybe invite me into the morgue the next time you work.” You murmured against his scarred chest as you rested your head there. 

“Hm, yes, but I thought that my method would be much more entertaining for the both of us, my love.” He punctuated his words by squeezing you a little with the arm that was curled around your waist. 

“I think you were right…” You hummed as you let yourself doze off with the sound of his heartbeat to lull you. 

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🏷️ @writing-noah @asianbutnotjapanese @kingheinrey @danielle-marie @yourfamilyfriendsatan @welcome2thesaltyspitoon @firagirl @lyn07

[brightymir]

Weird request but- if that's okay could i request Zenitsu, Tanjiro and Inosuke with a demon slayer reader that comes from another country but knows doesn't know japanese? Like the first time they met for a mission they literally communicate with gestures. They do learn pretty quickly in the end but their lack of knowledge often leads to hilarious situations/shenanigans (So crack basically!!).

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 [ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 / 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬]

cw: contains manga spoilers (entertainment district arc), language

word count: 1.1k

characters: tanjiro, inosuke, zenitsu x gn!reader

author's note: omggg this is the first req i've received and i'm glad that ppl want to read my works! i'll do my best here even though i'm not that good at crack! thank you sm and have a great day <3

oiran - used to address a high-ranking prostitute in taisho period of japan

kamaboko squad || hashira pt. 1 || hashira pt. 2

❄︎ tanjiro kamado

first and foremost this guy is amazed, and also kinda puzzled that demon slayers existed outside japan

you stumbled upon him when he was going undercover as a hostess too in the red light district

you two immediately recognized each other, because of his keen sense of smell and because of your sharp eyes

IT WAS A MESS

you resorted to just helping the people evacuate because you did not want to get in the way of combat

you learned japanese pretty quickly but there was still some naivety when it comes to their inside jokes and culture

a lot of dumb moments with this guy

it was a mess, because you two cannot understand each other. it was a whole two hours of gestures and drawing of diagrams and pictures. you had to hold back your laugh at tanjiro's poor illustration of his friends and the pillar. after confirming each other's identity, tanjiro brought you to the meet up place of him, inosuke, zenitsu and uzui.

there was one thing though, the language barrier. the only thing that made communication possible was because of uzui's knowledge of the language you speak, being a former shinobi

you managed to get your message across, that you'll be responsible for evacuating the people, since the four of them are the ones who are able to communicate during combat

after that, you sticked to tanjiro, and the two of you managed to understand each other. it was funny at times though, because you are gullible, and he's an airhead

"so, the pillar that night is the god of flamboyance?" you asked, you never knew that japan had these kinds of god. he nodded feverently as he continued to eat.

"how about you, which do you rule over?" you inquired and he stopped eating, looking straight at your eyes. he blinked once, twice, thrice.

"rule over?" he asked back

"yes, aren't you a god too?" you queried carefully. he put down his chopsticks and began to blink rapidly. he pointed to himself and tilted his head while looking back at you

"i'm a god?"

"are you not?" he seemed like someone who could be the god of honesty, because he was not capable of lying. he racked his brains for answers before giving a firm nod at you

"i am"

❄︎ inosuke hashibira

the two of you first met at his solo mission at a nearby town

you were on your way to the headquarters because oyakata-sama requested for some aid and manpower from foreign demon slayer corps

THIS GUY WILL UNDERSTAND IMMEDIATELY

his guesses are not on point but he gets what you're trying to say

even as you learn japanese steadily, this guy will make everything about him

teaches you boar language as well

you were staying at a rest house when a commotion occurred outside. grabbing your sword, you saw a boar head sparring with a demon. apparently, one managed to escape your hold earlier. you opted to get the people to safety to prevent damages

afterwards, you tried to introduce yourself to him and explain your situation but it took a few tries before he understood you (with the help of his kasugai crow).

you weren't able to meet oyakata-sama yet because of personal reasons, so inosuke insisted on taking a detour on the mountains, he taught you a few words that could be useful when communicating during missions

"so you're the boss?" you asked with wide eyes as he let out a boisterous laugh while nodding in agreement

"and you're also the god of the mountain?" you continued, watching as he relished in your acknowledgement and praise. "do you have a shrine? or a temple?" you asked, making him stop in his tracks

dear god you just inserted a new idea in his head.

the next time you meet him was when your aid was needed in a mission in the red light district. remembering that he told you that he was the boss, you exclaimed and greeted him from a distance

"oyakata-sama!!!" you shouted, making tanjiro and zenitsu freeze. uzui's eyes almost popped out of its sockets as he glared down at inosuke.

"WHAT NONSENSE HAVE YOU BEEN TEACHING THE FOREIGN MEMBER!? HOW DARE YOU INTRODUCE YOURSELF AS OYAKATA-SAMA!?"

you didn't mean to almost end inosuke's life by the hands of uzui, but, he is oyakata-sama? right?

❄︎ zenitsu agatsuma

exhilarated at the thought of a new female slayer joining their missions

TRIES SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND YOU

to the point he wants you to teach him your language

the two of you met at the butterfly estate when he was recuperating

you popped in sometimes during their training and during your breaks from japanese lessons

saves you from tanjiro's and inosuke's dumb concepts

"y/n-chaaaan~" he called out upon hearing your footsteps approach them, making him pause from training. he grumbled in annoyance when aoi pulled him back.

introduction was quick, because his enthusiasm went through the roof, and he understood your drawings and diagrams and broken japanese while explaining your circumstances

literally pulls you away from tanjiro and inosuke because he knows that those two will try to trick you into believing false things about japan and its culture

however, he can't always keep his eyes on you

so one day, when you two were training, you brought up a topic that you got from a reliable source (tanjiro and inosuke)

"hey, zenitsu, what's it like being an oiran?" you asked innocently, cleaning the blade of your sword. zenitsu, on the other hand, looked like he was about to butcher two people soon

"w-wha- where did you even get that term?" he asked slowly but you can see his eyes filled with bloodlust. oh how he wanted to bury his friends 6ft underground right now

"well, tanjiro and inosuke told me that you were an oiran" you said, making steam go out of zenitsu's ears

"what did they tell you it meant?" he treaded lightly, making you turn to him confusedly. "well, they told me it is used to address someone who almost turned into a spider" you answered back and zenitsu did not whether to laugh or cry. "i heard about the natagumo mountain mission, there are a lot of oiran in the corps, huh?" you muttered to yourself

safe to say, zenitsu made tanjiro and inosuke feel what it feels to be almost turned into a spider

© 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘𝐌𝐈𝐑 2021 - all rights reserved. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or share my work on other platforms. thank you.

[hanchette]

𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 : ( twisted wonderland characters )

a/n : yeyy soft hours!!

consist of : fluff, gender neutral reader — types of hugs

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇, his hugs varies but floyd definitely enjoys hugging you on the front where he can gauge your reactions. whenever you'd be at the corner of his eye, you bet that you'll be crushed in his arms—figuratively, he doesn't want to have his beloved aquatic creature in pain after all. mood brightens at your presence because thats how special you are to him. this eel will be screaming your name if he saw you, whether from school grounds or even outside, then it is followed by a bone crushing hug where you'd definitely be lifted off your feet and tilted towards him, being able to see the joy on his face. it's just so cute. shrimpy is cute <33

𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐑, ah yes. epel—whether you are shorter than him or taller will grab your tie, tugging it towards him until you fall in his arms. he's the bigger guy, alright. with a grumpy expression served on his features, epel marched up to your figure with an aura of determination and 'dominance' as such to make you feel intimidated, although in all honesty he just looks like a kitty cat pouting, epel takes a hold of your neck tie, pulling your figure to his before his arms circles over your body that is hunched and leaning towards him.

𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐃, he doesn't want you to see his expression or face. idia, hugs you from behind, hiding his face on the crook of your neck or back. though he claims so you cannot see him—the pink flicker is enough to tell that he is embarrassed and shy at the situation at hand. cold hands turns warm as it rest on your belly and you swore you could hear a small whimper from idia before his hold tighten. how endearing he is.

𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐊 𝐙𝐈𝐆𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐓, alike to the man above. sebek also doesn't want you to be able to guage his expression but instead of back hugs, he is more on the front. sebek, with a furious blush on his cheeks setting it on fire, embrace you a bit roughly. you won't be able to lift your head up for his hand is set on the back of your head, pushing it to either past his face or his chest. later on he will furiously tell you that such thing never happened, human! oh but as he walks away with a stomp to his steps, his ears tints pink.

[we-eternal-rp]

   𝐈𝐓'𝐒  𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓  𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄  𝐀  𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋...    𝐈𝐓'𝐒  𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄  𝐓𝐎  𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇.

across the weekend or 48 hours after this post drops it’s SPILL THE TEA TIME — which used to be called honesty hour, but instead it’s a weekend long event that will happen as a treat every few weeks... or whenever the admins feel like it to make things spicy. 

the circumstances and guidelines are pretty simple, so let’s break it down !

in general; this whole thing functions as a sort of ‘confessional’, like a reality TV show would. the questions and answers are private in game and not public knowledge, and so you are not allowed to use anything from these questions in threads. your characters know nothing of the answers of others.

you must begin the ask with  ❝ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀 ! ❞ — if you forget to put that in, the answerer doesn’t have to say anything or answer it.

this is for IC questions only, no anon hate nor OOC questions are allowed, if your receive anon hate or any sort, take a screenshot and send it to the admins and then just delete it. if we have issues like this, we will have to rethink this going forward.

this is for anonymous questions only, you must have that enabled to participate and you are welcome to disable it again afterwards if you feel more comfortable.

you do not have participate, it’s absolutely not mandatory ! if you wish to participate, please post a link that leads to your askbox ! 

you can only ask questions during this time and there will be an ending post , any received after the ending post are null, but you can answer them at any time !

once this post drops, the honesty ‘spell’ will take effect in anonymous asks but only if prefaced by the key phrase — ❝ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀 ! ❞

[kiatheinsomniac]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇-𝐔𝐏!*˚ .♡⋆ˊˎ -

𓆩♡𓆪 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄! @a-contemplation-upon-flowers

This is literally my first time doing this match up stuff >.< Fandom: Tolkien Okay so I'm heterosexual, generous, compassionate and motherly. I'm INTJ and Sagittarius, extremely harsh and brutal when being honest (it's giving bitchy vibes but it's because I love you) and will argue with you because I love to prove people wrong (I just like being bratty okay) I love chocolate, strawberries, sunflowers, purple and chicken. Listen I am accident prone because I have two left feet and I can't walk straight (why?). Daydream and zone out while talking to myself all the time and imagining fictional men. Horny 24/7 and bratty and shy, ignore that. I dislike untidy people, liars, grasshoppers, heights (but will climb a tree still???)

��♡˳ 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐅𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄!

♡ Fingolfin likes your honesty - it's an important trait for him to have in those closest to him given his position in Gondolin. He appreciates your honest - and sometimes even harshly honest - advice and observations.

♡ He also finds your arguments engaging; considering the background he comes from, I can see Fingolfin as needing someone intellectually engaging like you.

♡ He does worry about how accident-prone you are but another part of him likes that he can use it as an excuse to be around you more often, saying that he needs to keep an eye on you for your own sake but really he's just got a crush and he's desperate to spend more time with you.

ੈ♡˳ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄?

♡ Fingolfin's a classy man: he's picked you up from your place with a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand and is complimenting you on how beautiful you look right away. His heart's fluttering in his chest just at the sight of you, he loves you so much and he's praying to the valar that all will go well this evening. He's had a dinner set up in a little marquee by a waterfall.

♡ He's had all your favourites prepared and he just can't take his eyes off how beautiful you look in the candlelight. He leaves behind any business talk as he wants this evening to just be about you and him alone together without Gondolin or the rest of the world looming over you. The two of you just end up chatting for hours.

♡ Once all the food's gone, he walks you closer to the waterfall and drapes his fur coat around your shoulders to assure that you stay warm while he guides you with an arm around your waist. He takes you to see where the moonlight has filtered through the mist at the waterfall to create a moonbow rainbow and the two of you will sit there talking as the night goes on, not wanting it to end and leaning into his side as his fingers stroke through your hair. He hopes that this won't be the only time you do something like this together.

missed the match-up event? try ships instead!

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not:  ∘ buy me a coffee?  ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist  ∘ consider following/reblogging

[we-eternal-rp]

  𝐈𝐓'𝐒  𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓  𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄  𝐀  𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋…   𝐈𝐓'𝐒  𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄  𝐓𝐎  𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇.

across the weekend or 48 hours after this post drops it’s SPILL THE TEA TIME — which used to be called honesty hour, but instead it’s a weekend long event that will happen as a treat every few weeks… or whenever the admins feel like it to make things spicy.

the circumstances and guidelines are pretty simple, so let’s break it down !

in general; this whole thing functions as a sort of ‘confessional’, like a reality TV show would. the questions and answers are private in game and not public knowledge, and so you are not allowed to use anything from these questions in threads. your characters know nothing of the answers of others.

you must begin the ask with  ❝ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀 ! ❞ — if you forget to put that in, the answerer doesn’t have to say anything or answer it.

this is for IC questions only, no anon hate nor OOC questions are allowed, if your receive anon hate or any sort, take a screenshot and send it to the admins and then just delete it. if we have issues like this, we will have to rethink this going forward.

this is for anonymous questions only, you must have that enabled to participate and you are welcome to disable it again afterwards if you feel more comfortable.

you do not have participate, it’s absolutely not mandatory ! if you wish to participate, please post a link that leads to your askbox !

you can only ask questions during this time and there will be an ending post , any received after the ending post are null, but you can answer them at any time !

once this post drops, the honesty ‘spell’ will take effect in anonymous asks but only if prefaced by the key phrase — ❝ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀 ! ❞