#Freezing (anime/manga)

[reginalusus]

He's a sleazeball.

BTW if I could actually animate complicated things, I'd 100% have his elbow slip off the desk and he'd smack to the floor like a big, embarrassed dickhead (affectionate).

Image description: Fanart of Spamton in the 90s, done in a style reminiscent of an 80s or 90s anime. He appears to be standing in an office; the background mostly consists of a large window displaying Cyber City's skyscrapers. Their lights are animated and they flicker. Spamton himself wears his iconic Big Shot Era suit of red. He leans against a glossy desk, his elbow propped on it. One hand holds a cigarette with animated smoke coming from it, the other has the index finger pointed outwards with a car key dangling from it. He is grinning suggestively with slightly lowered eyelids. At the bottom is a caption for Spamton's dialogue, which reads: "I hear you're my next [no.1ratedcustomer] due a test drive!" End of image description.

[dailyspicyfigures]

Elizabeth Mably & Satellizer el Bridget ; Freezing Vibration ☆ FREEing

[fauxnotice]

ALIEN SKINCARE. v! blue lock/male! reader. originally posted on quotev. masterlist.

CHAPTER II. WHEN THE LOCK IS BLUE AND THE WORLD IS ENDING.

SPOILER WARNING for various characters not yet properly introduced in the anime (all of them appeared in the vs.U-20 arc), for the Hiori light novel (very vague spoilers, you'll probably only notice them if you've read the novel), and for Episode Nagi manga (extremely vague, probably won't notice them even if you've read the source material).

Since that match, you haven’t felt the “spark” again. 

And yet, you had decided to apologize to your team, making sure that they knew that your sacrilegious crime against the spirit of football and teamplay was just an one-off thing and that you weren’t going to go around stomping on your teammates again. No matter that it was you that made the loss seem not as pathetic as it would have been if you hadn’t scored at all. But in the end, the only important thing is that you could keep playing. 

In truth, you’ve never been certain in love, yet you knew that you loved football. 

You also knew that it would be for the best if you completely let go of any hopes that playing football will take you anywhere. No matter how proud the general public was of the team representing their nation, they were … rather unimpressive against other teams on the global level. 

Unlucky you, to be born here. 

The chances of making it big (by your definition) were near zero. You should make peace with that fact.

So why did a simple letter leave you in such a perturbed state?

Never mind you first thought of -who even sends letters anymore?- the crest of the JFU causes a period of wide-eyed gaping. Sayaka, who had informed you of the envelope arriving earlier, looks over your shoulder curiously, as she searches for the name of the sender. “Japan Football Union? How exciting! Come on, open it!” 

You pause. Which is incredibly dramatic, even by your standards. It’s not like whatever is in there is going to bite your fingers clean off or something. You internally roll your eyes at your own behavior, as you rip the paper.

Right when you’re done reading the contents, a cheery jingle coming from your phone interrupts you. You already know who it is -you did change the notification sound for him specifically, just so you could immediately differentiate it from messages sent by your bothersome classmates, since you usually tend to ignore those for hours before you actually reply to them. None of them care most of the time, so no big deal. 

🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

look at what i got 🎶

Sent 1 attachment.

You look at the picture, and lo and behold, it’s the exact same envelope as the one that was addressed to you. What strikes you as more important at the moment is the fact that Bachira seemed to be back to his usual mood, which is nice, since he was rather dispirited earlier today. This tended to happen semi-regularly after matches or practice with his team, so you were left to wonder if those people were sickos or something of similar nature, for making Bachira of all people upset. The fiasco at his recent game was obviously the current cause, though you couldn’t get what the big deal was. They did lose, sure, supposedly due to Bachira’s blunder, but who cares? He was the only person worth anything on that team. If the outcome is that important to them, they should get good. Bunch of slugs, you swear.

Ah, you’re keeping Bachira waiting.

You

I got it too

It’s for some “Player improvement project”

Sent 1 attachment.

🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝 

way to ruin the surprise ú_ù

You

Lol

🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

so we are going x33

  You

I guess

I’ll think about it

This whole thing seemed very sketchy. The notice didn’t seem to be forged or anything of the sort, but the lack of proper details about what exactly this whole project was about (or just about anything, really, since whoever sent these was very stingy with information) made you doubt the legitimacy of this entire scheme.

Maybe it was some sort of a coordinated kidnapping plan? That would be funny. Though you fail to see what exactly they’d gain from doing that to a bunch of football playing teens, assuming that was their target audience. Force you to kick the ball until you die? Do human experimentation? Lock you somewhere where not even the sun would find you? Would they demand a ransom? Sayaka didn’t have that type of money. But thinking logically, if this invitation was the best the organizers could come up with, maybe it’d be possible to outwit them? Much to think about.

You should consider this carefully.

You considered it carefully. And such careful consideration led you to taking a train from Chiba to Tokyo with Bachira on the date stated in the letter. While Bachira seemed pretty excited (as is the norm for him), you kept all of your feelings internalized. 

After wasting time (Bachira wanted to look around) and following the map given to you, you finally made it to the supposed location of the project. The JFA building stood proud in front of you two, so you decided to believe that you most likely won’t die or be seriously harmed today. That would cause a real big scandal, for sure.

“This seems to be the place.” you hum as you glance at the paper once more, slightly frowning at the lack of one crucial detail. “But it doesn’t say where exactly we’re supposed to meet.” 

“That means we should go in, right?” Bachira retorts, making it seem rather easy. It seemed like you were the only one overthinking everything. How you envied him, sometimes. Going through life with the carelessness of an amoeba seemed a lot less difficult than whatever was going on with you. Then again, minimizing your existence to the simplest cluster of cells doesn’t even seem that appealing when you think about it twice. You just can never win.

“It’s not like we can go back, now that we wasted money to get here.”

Your companion grins and slaps your back not at all lightly. “It’s always about money with you! Let'so go, let's go!”

You decide to stop the objection before you could vocalize it. Now’s not the time for bickering, even if it’s definitely not “always about money” with you, but whatever. 

When you finally open the door, a considerable number of people turn to face you, which makes you (secretly) bristle in discomfort. Sure, you were an expert at playing a social butterfly, or at least a regular friendly peer, but rooms filled with a crowd of mostly unfamiliar faces wasn’t your ideal setting. You make a quick move forward, making them lose interest and turn to look back ahead. 

As minutes rolled along, it seemed that nothing was happening other than more people coming in. In order to pass the time, you chatter with Bachira, completely discreetly (only on your part) commenting on the boys around you. Some of them looked … rather interesting , so you had to wonder how they leave the house everyday while looking like losers of the genetic lottery. Hell, some of them weren’t even ugly, yet they chose to present themselves in a way that made you wonder if they had a hole in their heads, or at least blindness in one or both eyes. You spot a guy with so much hair gel that the mere fact that he still has any hair is a miracle of global proportions (“Bwahahaha! That guy looks like a turnip!” Bachira observes, to which you laugh very unnoticeably). 

You wish it was enough to distract you from the one thing that you had expected, yet feared, once you realized the group consisted of all teenage boys -the stench. 

You don’t even want to imagine how bad it’d be once you started actually playing instead of standing around. You weren’t even that demanding; it’s not like you were asking them to bathe in holy water every three hours, but some soap would be nice?!

Unexpectedly, someone turns towards you. Before you is a bespectacled guy, with a rather handsome face and a fitting smile to boot. You guessed that there was something beneath that visage. Like an insecurity or an ugly personality facet that deserved to be wrapped in a pretty packaging, tucked away from the public eye. But you were just brainstorming. This guy could be going through the torments of a lifetime and it wouldn't be in your realm of caring. Then, he starts talking to you.

“Sorry to bother you, but do you two happen to be forwards?”

Huh. That’s one way to start a conversation. At least it gave you a small hint on whatever was going on here.

“Yeah!” Bachira replies before you can. “You’re one too?” You add.

He smiles and nods, very pretty and proper. “That’s right. My name is Yukimiya Kenyu, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”

You easily slip into the familiar role as you smile back at him, radiating as much of your inner grace as you could while introducing yourself. “It's very nice to meet you too, Yukimiya-kun.”

The door opens once again and everyone predictably turns to look at the newcomers. You hear many whispers about the “Crown jewel of Japan”, but you have no idea who that is so you don’t even bother. You know Bachira doesn’t know either, and you don’t care enough to ask Yukimiya about it. There’s two guys at the entrance, so it’s a 50/50 chance that one’s the jewel and the other is the pebble. Whatever the truth is, you’ll find out if it ever becomes relevant to you. Which is not now.

Right then, your eyes get abruptly violated by the man that takes the centre of the podium. Not only does he wear the look of a freakish horror caricature like it’s second skin, his strange choice of a hairstyle makes him seem like a scorched thumb more than anything. You give him a point for effort, though, since his dead fish eyes and lanky limbs only add to the aesthetic.  He oppens his mouth and talks, unfortunately.

Now, here’s the thing -you would have liked it if you were able to readily disagree with whatever bullshit this guy’s saying. But it’s understandable bullshit, which is a whole nother thing, so you settle on wearing a pensive and slightly concerned expression, just so you don’t seem out of place. Unlike most of those present, leaving your team behind for this delusional charade … doesn’t seem too bad to you. Perhaps it’s the ultimate hating mindset rearing its head once it senses an opportunity to muddle your thoughts. The whole plan of making the world’s best striker sounded very nice, but you weren’t fully convinced either. Not to be judgmental and superficial (you are) but looking like that and declaring such ideas didn’t leave much space for trust. You share a sideways glance with Bachira.

Then, for some reason, Possible Jewel suspect number One starts talking too. Arguing, mostly. You think it’s a silly hill to die on, but it’s not like you can blame him for thinking the way he does. People treasure their bonds and stuff like that, or so you’ve heard. Unsurprisingly, more complaints pipe up. Most are nonsensical to you, but you do agree with whoever asked why all of you had to live together. Looking at all of them … sharing a living space seems like an idea cooked up by a sadist of the highest calibre. 

Yeah, you … don’t want that. Who knows where all these people have been. 

“Ego’s” response to this is to start this strange contortion performance? Then he talks about the Japanese team and how they’re basically shit-out-of-the-ass bad (which isn’t untrue, but he didn’t have to say it like that), and continues on to quote many world class players, finishing with the principle of “egoism”. 

This “egoism” is heretical against the primary principles of football, ingrained within every regular player who has ever had to share the field with a team.

You, an alien attempting to imitate regularity on a daily basis, find yourself at a loss of words. Transfixed, almost, enchanted even, by this man’s otherworldly philosophy. It feels like home, you realize, cold and empty, but still a memory of the years during which you had felt alive, like an actual being, like someone fitting into the mechanisms of existence. No -you want to bend these mechanisms to your liking. Someone like you is deserving of that.

What a tantalizing offer. You want to reach out and devour every fruit.

There’s a certain swirling darkness within Bachira’s eyes as he gazes at you. You don’t pay attention to it. In the end, you’re the only one that should matter. The center of all, it’s you-the lowest of all scum. 

The gate opens, and the answer is clear. 

After signing the letter of consent, for better or for worse, you find yourself amongst all 300 selected players as you’re led into different vehicles like a flock of sheep. During that time, you were forced to say goodbye to Bachira, since you were assigned different buses, but you assumed it wouldn’t be long until you saw him again. At least the seats are nice, you think as you make yourself comfortable against the window. And it has air conditioning too. Well, it seems like Ego and co. were actually serious about this, since they sunk so much money into it. 

Just as you’re about to force yourself to doze off for the sake of making the trip easier, someone interrupts you. Oh, the joy. You felt like you had enough people time today, but it seems like you were wrong in your belief.

“Excuse me, do ya mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is taken, so …”

Is that a Kansai accent?

The newcomer has a ridiculously cutesy face, complete with the bug eyes of a bizarre size, but the image of daintiness is harshly offset by the boy’s height. Not thinking much of it, you give him a close-eyed smile and a nod as you move your things to give him space to sit. 

“I don’t mind at all! Make yourself comfortable.”

The boy thanks you as he sits down. By the time he’s content with his position, the bus starts moving. For the sake of politeness, you introduce yourself to him, and he returns the gesture, letting you know that his name is Hiori Yo.

“Hiori-kun,” you say like a true conversationalist, “Are you from Kansai, by any chance?”

Hiori nods. “Yeah, I’m from Kyoto. What about you?” 

Feeling glad that you weren’t stuck with someone who made conversations awkward for you, you continue without a hitch. “I’m from Chiba, but I used to live in Kyoto for a bit before going back.”

His eyes widen a bit. “Really? What made you move back?”

“Family matters, nothing much.” As you feel the conversation derailing, you smoothly reel it back. “Say, what do you think about this whole “Blue Lock” thing? It’s all pretty weird, isn’t it?”

“Honestly … when I got the letter, I thought it was some sorta scam.” Hiori admits, smiling when you start laughing. “I dunno, it just seemed suspicious.”

“Right? My friend didn’t think twice about it, but it seemed shady to me. It doesn’t help that the guy who’s supposed to train us looks like that.” You make a few vague hand gestures, hoping to demonstrate your point better.

“Like Slender Man?” Hiori supplies rather unhelpfully, actually. Your English is good enough to understand the literal meaning of what he says, but you have a feeling that he’s referencing something, yet you had no idea what. Unfortunately, your free time was usually spent training, so your knowledge of what was outside of your general sphere of interests was … lackluster. But if you were good at one thing (other than kicking a ball), it’s faking it until you make it. Ego is definitely slender, and a man, so that’s a start.

“Yeah!” You snap your fingers with a practiced amount of enthusiasm. Before your talk could get to the point where your ignorance about this so called “Slender Man” put you in a bad spot, you hum and turn to look out of the window. “I wonder when we’re going to get there.” 

Hiori leans in to look to look outside as well. The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence, much to the delight of you. You like people who knew how to shut up.

Eventually, silence bores you, as well. 

“Why did you decide to come to Blue Lock?”

Hiori blinks owlishly at your sudden question. “I … wanted a change of pace, I guess.” 

Hm. There was obviously something else hiding in there. Well, luckily for the guy, you weren’t interested in prodding at secrets when they held no importance to you. Whatever issues he had, he could deal with them on his own.

The look he’s giving you implies that he wants you to answer your own inquiry as well. 

“That’s nice. I just like to play football.” 

And that’s that. 

As it turns out, the Blue Lock building is in the middle of nowhere. Totally not skeevy. 

Next, you’re supposed to wait until your name is called. Luck seems to be on your side today, since your name is the first one on the list. You wave at Hiori as you move forward, deciding that he’s good company, with his overall calm demeanor and good sense of conversation-silence balance. Talking to him again wouldn’t be the worst thing.

You find out that you’re supposed to give your wallet and phone to the woman waiting in front of the door, which is … weird, but yeah, sure, might as well. It’s not even a kidnapping at this point, since you consented to being here. You just wish you knew you’d be staying somewhere else beforehand, so you could have packed more of your skincare products, and then thoroughly mentally prepared for rooming with a bunch of possible creeps amd weirdos, which would obviously turn your long established and extremely well-planned routine onto its head.

You’ll have to manage. 

You’re definitely not gritting your teeth at the thought.

Just as she hands you your uniform, you remember. “Excuse me?”

“Yes?”

“Will you inform our guardians of this? Or should we do it ourselves?”

“We will notify your parents and guardians, don’t worry.” Anri replies, and proceeds to explain that you should look for the room marked with the letter present on the fabric.

With a quick “thank you” and a smile, you move on, looking down at your assigned uniform.

241

V

Your eyebrows furrow.

When you move onward, Hiori watches you leave. 

As he waits his turn, he can’t help but think about how unusual you are. Not in the way you present yourself, no. The “perfect student” trope, he’s seen it a lot. People who are nice, outgoing, helpful, and so on; there’s a plethora of those. It’s about the intensity with which you fall into the archetype. The wording of every sentence you say, every move you make, the intonation of your voice -it all seems carefully planned out, programmed and running with no bugs or other disturbances. 

So much that it’s unsettling.

In a way, you remind him of Karasu. You’re both rather guarded, he thinks. But the difference is there; you didn’t seem to be trying to analyze him. Sure, you asked him questions, and he answered, but you had never shown interest in digging in further. Maybe you were just being considerate? It could be. The two of you just met a few hours ago, after all, so you minding your business didn’t seem all that unreasonable.

You said you liked to play football. That’s why you came to Blue Lock. That was an unoriginal, even a little airheaded answer, considering the specific situation you all were in. Even so, Hiori has to wonder …

Ah, his name is being called.

Karasu Tabito has always known that he was a rather ordinary person, but the ranking of 252 does sting a little. 

That’s probably why he’s surprised to see that you, out of all people, are carrying the highest number out of everyone in the room. 

Don’t get him wrong, you had this specific, yet common, kind of charm that probably had all the girls swooning. From the way you walked, you looked, you smiled -yep, you fill all the “pretty boy” boxes.

And yet, you don’t carry yourself like someone who’s supposedly on the top of the foodchain of this small group. Most guys like you had this strong air of confidence, regardless of their disposition, yet you lacked that entirely. Not that you were cowardly either. You just struck this peculiar kind of balance that seemed in no way natural.

And such artificalness only hid weakness.

Well, finding your weak spot is just another job for the analyst.

And he is given his first clue when a blonde guy walks up to you with stars in his eyes and asks if you were the “Slumbering Angel of Chiba”.

Karasu almost laughs. What kind of cringy title was that?

You seemed to share some of his sentiment, because you look at the other like he had grown another head or said the stupidest shit possible to your face with no remorse (which he possibly did?).

Interestingly enough, you force your expression into something softer, which makes your confusion all the more clear. “I’m not sure I follow …?”

The boy then goes on to retell the story of you scoring some crazy goal against some crazy strong school, and how you stopped some crazy guy from doing just about anything the entire game and whatnot. The more he talks, the more off-balance you seem to become. 

Then, at some point during his rambling, you raise your hands to stop him. “I don’t know where you got it, but … drop that title, alright? It’s misleading.”

Misleading in what way, he wonders. 

The large screen suddenly flickers to life, with Ego’s ugly mug on it.

After a brief explanation of the “Dormitory test”, a ball drops right in front of Karasu, and a cartoonish icon made in his image lights up the screen, along with a timer. 2:16.

 Ah, he thinks, Way to rub salt into the wound.

Of course, everyone scatters like headless flies. He has to thread this carefully. Losing his cool and randomly shooting at people with hopes of hitting someone would be as good as immediately giving up. If he wants to climb to the top, he should at least attempt to eliminate the “king of the jungle” right?

That means Mister Angel is at the top of the hitlist.

You look aware, standing in a stance which would make it easy to move around, when the time comes. There’s even a small smile pulling at your lips. And yet, you’re looking at him impassively, like he’s an actor whose performance wasn’t worth humoring.

Perhaps you weren’t as humble as you initially appeared to be?

1:47.

Shit. Karasu is wasting too much time. Still, if he tries to go after you, there’s no guarantee he’ll succeed, and that will lead to even more wasted time. You haven’t shown any of your abilities yet, so trying to go in blind is difficult. 

Guess I’ll have to pick ya apart next time. 

He kicks the ball.

It flies through the air, heading in the direction of the simple-minded creep, Otoya Eita.

Perhaps it was the very simple-mindedness that allowed Karasu to link up with him and make this play.

“Ooh, flashy.” He says, before kicking the ball back just as it touches his foot.

The slam of it against the face of an unfortunate victim cuts through the air.

Sone Yuto.

1:22.

The poor boy manages to barely scramble onto his feet, with his facial muscles creased in pain. 

Then, begins the rather lackluster period of him trying to hit someone and failing. Karasu almost feels bad.

00:36.

With a flash of movement, against all odds, you come in. 

00:29.

Karasu watches you as you watch the field. The smile nevers withers away, as you roll the leather football against the floor. 

00:21.

It’s almost as if you have everyone holding their breath. Unlike earlier, now you do seem like the strongest of twelve.

00:13.

By now, most people have relaxed, perplexed by your lack of offensive movement. Karasu doesn’t give himself the pleasure. For once in his life, he can’t find anything that would offer him a glimpse into the workings of your brain. 

00:09.

00:08.

00:07.

00:06.

Your smile drops, just for a moment.

00:05.

You move so suddenly it’s hard to detect at first. The ball slams against the wall and returns to you. You raise your dominant leg to welcome it, and while you’re keeping balance on the other, you rotate the upper part of your body as to relocate the trajectory of the ball and send it into the space behind you-

-Right into the torso of the boy who had approached you earlier, who was hiding in your blind spot. The impact is strong enough to force him onto his back.

00:04.

Higuchi Kouki.

00:03.  

Karasu sees you whisper something to the fallen blonde, but he can’t hear what. He thinks he doesn’t want to know.

00:02.

Higuchi still isn’t getting up.

00:01. 

The outcome is obvious.

00:00.

Higuchi Kouki.

LOSE.

Karasu Tabito looks at you, your trademark smile, your relaxed posture, your burning gaze, and thinks-

What a remarkable guy.

[akai-anna]

i am currently at the "teiu case" episodes (411-412 case files: 491-493) on my rewatch and. can we just appreciate Suzuki Sonoko?

this particular case is only a couple of cases later than Suspicious Cell Phone Murder Case (case files: 480-483 and eps 398-400). so i'm assuming, even with the muddy timeline, that they happened close to each other in the timeline too (esp based on the weather and a bit of time mention).

my main point is: ran gets shinichi's contact info. she can finally call him, she has a solid way to reach him. and ofc sonoko is given this information too, and one of the first things she does with this information? Suzuki Sonoko-sama, the Great and Amazing, takes a picture of one Mouri Ran in a swimsuit and sends it to one Kudou Shinichi. i love how she, in one beautiful move:

gets to tease ran, which she always finds delight in

makes her other friend (since childhood) happy

bc yes, it is for teasing purposes but sonoko is well aware that these two have feelings for each other (and is their biggest supporter, A TRUE QUEEN), and that shinichi will absolutely appreciate such a thing. (in this particular instance, knowing shinichi better than ran bc SONOKO SUSPECTS SHINICHI SAVED THE PICTURE, instead of deleting it, like he said to ran, while ran believes shinichi WHICH ABSOLUTELY SENDS ME, SO ADORABLE, but also, he did totally not delete that picture, ran).

sonoko and ran are best friends, yes, but sonoko and shinichi are also really close friends, and i think it needs to be mentioned more.

thank you for listening to my brainrot, i'm out

[fantasyandromancelover]

Imagine if these two…

Were in this suspenseful situation.

[knucklesamwichart]

Mr Frieza!

Character Mashup of Mr Freeze from DC Comics and Frieza from Dragon Ball Z

[haarute]

i feel weird being like a hardcore jojo fan who actually didn't get introduced to it because of memes at all because i just had a friend recommended it to me and i read it without knowing anything, and this was before the stardust crusaders anime blew up. so the fact that the common experience for jojo fans is now "oh you saw a weird funny meme and wanted to know what's up same bro" is still a bit alien to me because i just Grew into making memes about it after the fact, but never saw them as a way into the franchise despite that now being the reputation it upholds

[anime-fan-05]

hey love your account ❤️

can you do a headcanon of tanjiro, giyuu, kyojuro, sanemi and muichiro's reacting to reader calling them by their name?

arigatou!

Kimetsu no Yaiba ~Calling them by their first name 1st part~

Manga/anime: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Warnings: nothing

(Y/N): your name

Obanai and Tengen's headcanons are here.

K. Tanjiro

At first he won't even realize how you called him: he's used to his friends calling him by his first name

After about two minutes, however, he'll understand what you said

He'll blush deeply and smile sweetly, and he'll asks you: "How did you call me? N-not I mind, you can keep calling me that all you want!"

If you call him by his last name after that day, he'll pout and think you didn't call him because of what he said to you that day

"Can you still call me Tanjiro? I-I didn't want you to stop calling me by my name when I told you that time!"

T. Giyuu

Like Tanjiro, he won't immediately understand you called him by name, so he'll pretend nothing happened and continue doing what he was doing

Nevertheless, after a few minutes he'll realize it

A light dusting of pink will cover his usually pale cheeks and a small smile will make its way onto his face

All day he'll think about you and how his name came from your lips

If you call him by his last name after that day, he'll fear he's done something wrong ("Did I do something wrong? Why did you call me Tomioka and not Giyuu?")

R. Kyojuro

The smile perpetually present on his face will widen even more and an adorable blush will paint his cheeks

If you two are fighting a demon, I feel sorry for him, because Kyojuro will kill him with a huge flame due to what you told him

"Since you call me Kyojuro, can I call you (Y/N)?"

He'll remember that for a very long time, and, every time he thinks about it, he'll blush slightly and his smile will widen

If you call him by his last name after that day, his smile will diminish slightly and he'll think you're angry

S. Sanemi

He'll freez, paralyzed: Sanemi.exe has stopped working; press a button to restart

After he recovers, he'll turn his head away so you won't see how much he'll be blushing

"Are you blushing, SA-NE-MI?" "No! Shut up!"

A huge sense of pride and possession will grow in him and, from that moment on, he'll be more protective of you than he's ever been

If you call him by his last name after that day, he'll ignore you ("Shinazugawa?" "Who are you talking to? I'm Sanemi, not Shinazugawa.")

T. Muichiro

He'll continue to do what he was doing all day, not realizing how you called him

The next day, when you call him by his name again, he'll understand it

Immediately after realizing this, he'll also freeze for a few seconds and his cheeks will turn slightly pink

He'll be distracted more than usual all day thinking about you

If you call him by his last name after that day, he won't notice at first, but then he'll stare at you intently until you start calling him by his name again

💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮

[bountycancelled]

OPLA characters reacting to a sweet, girly reader who turns out to be a a ruthless fighter

genre: headcanons, fem! reader, kinda suggestive??, idfk just read it bro

requested: nope, but reqs are open! pls, for the love of god, request for the opla♡

feat: zoro, sanji

a/n: reader's feminine but not female if that makes sense, only witting again because I'm obsessed with the one piece live action. also, this may be a little ooc, since I haven't watched the anime/read the manga, sorry about that! also, if you wanna be added to my perm taglist, pls feel free to ask!

☆ZORO☆

when you first joined the crew, zoro was immediately unsure of what exactly you brought to the table. I mean, they already had a swordsman, a sharp shooter, a navigator, a dumb cook and a captain/motivational speaker. so what were you doing here?

from luffy's explanation of you, he was aware that you were a good fighter, but he had never seen you in action.

the only things he had seen from you were stuffed animals laying around the ship, pastel outfits he could spot for miles, and bows that had been put in his hair while he slept.

he was tolerant of you at best, and straight up apathetic at worst, but finally, there came a time where someone tried picking a fight with you since you seemed like an easy target while you were walking with him and nami.

although he wasn't particularly fond of you (lies), he still felt the need to defend you as a crewmate, but the ass whooping you gave the stranger made him freeze in place.

there was blood splatter on your pretty face, deep red sploches of your cute clothes, and a look of pure hatred in your eyes. and you had never looked more beautiful in zoros eyes.

that was the first time zoro had ever smiled at you. sure, he had slightly smirked at your cuter tendencies, but in that moment he was truly smitten with you.

from that day, zoro wanted to train with you. what you lacked that he had in experience, you made up for in absolute cruelty when fighting. you were quick, agile and you weren't afraid to make zoro hurt, and he loved every second of it.

zoro would sometimes smile when he saw bruising on his body from his time training with you but catch himself and go stone faced immediately. no, he was not falling for you, absolutely not.

except he was, and the next time you showed up by his side with a slight limp, some tears in your cotton candy coloured clothes, blood all over you, and a sadistic smile on your face, he would tell you as much.

SANJI♡

sanji is unsurprisingly, enamoured by you the second you join the straw hats.

I'm talking, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, cheesy and constant compliments like "you're cuter than any of your stuffed animals, yn-swan~" and even brushing up on his baking skills to bake you aesthetically pleasing sweet treats that always put a smile on your face.

if I'm being completely honest, it doesn't bother him that he doesn't know exactly what your strengths are, you could be amazing at everything like barbie or you could literally not know night from day and he'd still admire you all the same.

one day, you're wearing bottoms that are on the shorter side not that sanji minds at all and you're out exploring the island you're at with him by your side, holding all your bags because in his words "angels don't do hard labour when he's around" when someone decides to hit on you.

you reject them politely, but when they make a less than appropriate comment about your outfit, you click your tongue and shake your head, readying yourself to hospitalise someone.

sanji's mood switches to one of being happy because he's around you to one of murderous intent the second this rando tries you, but you already have them wheezing on the floor with broken nose before sanji can even lift his leg off of the ground.

you're back to usual self, fixing the bow on your hair while complaining about how fucking hard it is to get blood stains off of your clothes, while sanji is thinking about how fucking hard he is

safe to say that this heartless, terrifying side of you makes sanji fall even harder and question whether or not he's a masochist.

he'll still insist on doing things like carrying you anywhere (most of your shoes you impractical as fuck, but style>functionality always) lifting things for you and treating you like a piece of fine china because that's exactly what you deserve, no matter how badass you are.

only difference is, now he'll never come to aid when it comes to kicking ass, because he enjoys seeing you take people to heaven and back more than anything.

he compliments now range from "omg you are the most adorable, lovable, doll-like angel I've ever seen" to "please punch me, step on me, make my nose bleed, choke me-" and he's now ten times more annoying about you than he was before, which no one thought was possible.

believe me when I say that images of you in frilly outfits with your eyes gleaming like diamonds eveytime you make someone bleed occupy 90% of his thoughts. (the other 10% is all things cooking, of course.)

[haeryna]

the purest shade of white ↪ okkotsu yuuta x reader ⸙͎｡˚⋆ 𓋼

summary: yuuta looks almost like an angel, you think to yourself grimly, as you shift on the balls of your feet. you haven't seen your best friend in a couple years now, not since he left for africa. too bad he's attempting to kill the kouhai that you're trying to protect.

tw: manga spoilers! anime watchers, do not read. mild angst but happy ending. starts at the beginning of ch. 139. naoya zenin is here and he is his classic asshole self. reader is in the same grade as yuuta, both in age and in terms of cursed energy. swearing because reader is a bad bitch. mildly suggestive. unironic use of "senpai" and "kouhai." slight descriptions of blood and injury, everyone is subjected to the author's attempts at writing dialogue and fight scenes. not proofread but at this point that shouldn't be a surprise. it is blatantly obvious that the writer also does not know how to end stories

notes: thank you for 100 new friends! :) poll is technically still up but i'm impatient and yuuta was winning by a pretty decent margin so here it is lol. divider by @/saradika-graphics!

"Yuuji!" you yelp, slicing the head off a curse with a clean stroke of your katana. Purple ichor splatters to the ground as you whirl, searching for the familiar head of pink hair. "Stay close to me!"

Behind you, Choso grunts with exertion, sending out another bolt of Piercing Blood. Panting, you weave through the curses, letting their corpses fall behind you. Yuuji, where is Yuuji?

As the last body falls, you can't but let out an exasperated huff at the sheepish grin on Yuuji's face. "Don't scare me like that," you chide. "How am I supposed to protect you if I can't even find you?" Yuuji opens his mouth to protest but you shake your head. "I made a promise," you tell him, pain rippling through your heart dully. Gojo-sensei was long gone, stolen away by one of the people he had loved most in the world. Grimacing, you sheathe your katana, mindful of the blood that stains your palms, as you try to ignore the memory of his words all those months ago.

If anything happens, I need you to protect Itadori Yuuji. I know they're going to pull something on him once I'm not there to back him up.

"Senpai, what should-"

Yuuji immediately tenses as your hand flies to the grip of your katana. "I smell a rat," you mutter, nose wrinkling as you turn to face Naoya Zenin, standing atop a bridge. He bares his teeth at you in semblance of a smile. "How perceptive as always," he mocks.

"Cut the bullshit," you snap, hand still resting on the pommel. "What do you want?"

"Fushiguro Megumi," is his rather bland response, and you shift your feet into the opening steps of Flowing River.

"What do you want with Fushiguro?" Yuuji yells, and the way Naoya's face twists makes you want to vomit.

"I think I'll have him die."

Cursed energy fills your body as you leap. Naoya's resounding cackle burns through your ears as you swing, barely grazing his shoulder. Before you can push forward off your feet, a heavy presence rests on your shoulders, locking you in place. All four of you freeze. Yuuji and Choso look horrified, and Naoya looks as though he's broken out into a cold sweat. But you know this feeling, feel it settle back into your body as if it never left.

Okkotsu Yuuta steps out from the building ledge, dark eyes unreadable. Your body sings. Yuuta, Yuuta, Yuuta! His hair has grown longer, bangs sweeping over his forehead, eyebags a little darker than they used to be. You can feel Rika's presence, swirling around you in a mass of death and decay. You're used to it. You've grown to crave it, even. His eyes meet yours, and for a split second, his facade cracks. Confusion, fear, and...regret?

Yuuta leaps, slamming into concrete and sending shockwaves deep into your bones. "Who's with Itadori?" God, even his voice is different, so different from the boy who said goodbye to you so long ago. You open your mouth to speak, but Choso beats you to it, brows furrowed.

"So you're Yuuji's executioner."

Blood turns to ice in your veins, and you can tell by the pained expression Yuuta has that you aren't hiding your emotions as well as you think you are. Naoya laughs. "I was going to tell you that, but you were being too emotional like the bitch you are."

"Who're you?"

Yuuta's voice is cold, but as Naoya babbles on, you can feel the horror settle thickly into your chest. Choso and Yuuji are talking behind you but it feels like you're underwater, you're sinking, drowning, and Yuuta must have come to a conclusion because all of a sudden he's surging forward-

You move before you can even think, steel clashing against steel. "Yuuji," you say, through gritted teeth. "Run."

A horrible grating noise fills the air as you let cursed energy flow through your body, shoving Yuuta's sword away from yourself. "I won't let you kill him," you hiss, body already shifting into Jagged Bolt. Yuuta's eyes flash as you surge forward, katana in hand.

"How would you describe my cursed technique?" you had asked Gojo, mindlessly swinging your feet. Gojo hums.

"Have you ever heard of Newton's Law's of Motion?"

You had crinkled your nose at that. "No?"

"An object in motion, stays in motion. Except you are the object. And your cursed energy is the motion." You remember how Gojo's lips curved slightly. "In other words, once you start, nobody can stop you."

You're crying, you realize with a start, as you cut a line into Yuuta's chest. Moisture seeps from your eyes as you twist your forearm into a parry, katanas sparking with each strike. Belatedly, you sense that Yuuji, your foolish, stupid, loyal kouhai has stayed, trading strikes with his fists between the precise movements of your blade. Your heart drops as Yuuta reaches for the ring on his finger.

No. No!

He twists it, and Rika appears behind you. Claws sink into your shoulder and you let out a cry of pain as she flips you into the ground.

"Be nice, Rika," Yuuta chides, as you hit the concrete. Blood spurts from your mouth as you choke, fingers clawing at the ground desperately for your katana. A piece of scaffolding is practically crushing your legs; instinctively, you know that if you try to break through it, you'll tear your limbs right off.

As Rika holds Yuuji up, you lunge desperately, uncaring of what you have to sacrifice. Inumaki's arm, the way half of Nobara's face had been practically ripped out of her skull, the remains of Nanami-san, the way that you were the one to find Maki's charred body-

I can't lose anyone else.

You scream as Yuuta pierces Yuuji's chest with his katana, cursed energy building in your legs as you prepare to shoot forward. Yuuta turns, eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion as he sees you about to tear yourself in half just to reach Yuuji.

With a wave of his hand, Rika dives for you, and everything goes dark.

Yuuta had known you were special from the day he'd first met you. That spring, when Gojo-sensei had dropped him (and Rika) into a class of unsuspecting first years, he remembers that out of the four of them, you had moved so gracefully that he hadn't processed the katana in your hand until you'd pressed it against your throat.

"Gojo-sensei," you'd hissed. "What is this?"

While Maki, Inumaki, and Panda had been subsequently bruised up by Rika, you had dodged every single one of her movements until Rika had been (barely) called back by Yuuta.

"Another Special Grade," Gojo had hummed. "Just like you, hm?"

Special Grade?

What he hadn't realized then, he realized later; you weren't just special to him, but to the entire rest of the Jujutsu World as well. Special Grade Sorcerers were rare, Maki had told him. "You only have it because of Rika," she'd scoffed, "but she deserves it."

You quickly became one of his closest friends. You were fast enough to dodge Rika's ire, even laughing whenever she tried. You'd shown Yuuta kindness that he didn't think he deserved. You broke him out of his shell enough so that when he left for Africa, he felt as though he was standing with his own strength. His first katana had been the sister blade of your own, forged from the same metal by the same hands. The way your eyes had lit up when you saw it was a memory he cherished.

Somberly, Yuuta eyes the chains encasing your wrists and ankles, each decorated with the slips of protective paper that would nullify your cursed energy. Most sorcerers required only one. You required at least twenty.

He knows you, knows the way you always take the strawberry daifuku, leaving him the red bean ones even though he knows you prefer the red bean. He knows that you push yourself hard, harder than he's ever seen anyone work. But most of all, he knows your loyalty, how once your heart finally lets someone in, you'll never let them go.

Did you miss him like he missed you?

The chains are more for your own protection. He needs you to hear him out before you attempt to end his life for a second time. Yuuta knows now that Gojo must have asked you the same thing he'd asked him; to keep Itadori Yuji safe from the whims of the higher ups. Gojo, being the forgetful bastard he was, probably didn't alert you to the fact that he'd gone to Yuuta for help as well. Crouching, Yuuta eyes your body with a sad tilt of his lips. The injuries you'd sustained were immense, and it had taken quite a bit of his own cursed energy to reverse.

Will you forgive him?

You're asleep, breath hitching every so often. Yuuta wonders what you're dreaming of, before pushing the thought away. Tenderly, he cups your face in the palm of his hand, calloused fingers stroking your cheek.

"You need to wake up now," he murmurs, as your eyes flutter open, first in dazed confusion, before sharpening into panic.

"I'll miss you!" you'd cried, as you clung to Yuuta under the shade of the large oak. You were the first person he had told about his departure to Africa, and you took it hard. Yuuta had stood frozen as the first of your tears had dripped down your cheeks. It was the first time he'd seen you cry.

"I'll be back before you know it," he'd murmured, pressing a featherlight kiss to the top of your head. You'd looked up to him, eyes teary.

"Promise?"

"I promise," he'd said, interlocking his pinky with your own. A love like Yuuta's is a dangerous thing, you know, but in this moment you feel nothing but safe.

The first sensation you feel upon awakening is the dull ache in your (miraculously still attached) legs. The second is the warmth on your cheek. Yuuta is standing above you, hand gently resting against your face. Immediately you lunge forward, teeth bared. The rattle of chains stops you, and you swear. Of course he would have taken precautions. Yuuta looks almost hurt as you violently shake off his touch.

"Don't touch me, I swear to god I'm going to rip you apart."

Yuuta says your name sadly, but you're practically trembling with rage.

"He was just a kid, with the kind of power we wield, why the fuck would you listen to the higher ups?"

Yuuta echoes your name a bit more firmly, but you ignore him, tears building in your eyes.

"You're no better than the rest of them are you, you're just-"

"Senpai!"

Your heart stops as Yuuji pokes his head out from around the corner. They must have brought you back to Jujutsu Tech, you think distractedly. Just how long were you out?

"Yuuji!" you cry out, scanning his body for any injuries. He seems to be uninjured, but most importantly, he's alive. Tears fall down your cheeks. "Are you alright?"

Yuuji appears horrified by the sudden outburst as he hastily holds up his hands. "I'm fine, senpai, really, I'm sorry for worrying you. Okkotsu-san is actually on our side, I swear! It was a binding vow, that's why he had to actually kill me, but he did some really cool Reverse Technique shit and I'm all good now!"

Warily, you eye Yuuta, whose expression resembles that of a kicked puppy. "Okkotsu Yuuta," you say, voice hard. "Let me out of these chains right fucking now."

With a wave of his hand, the papers attached to the chains fall to the floor. Yuuta looks dejected as he looks away from you. "I'm so sor-"

Before he can finish you immediate tackle him into a hug, knocking the both of you into the floor as you bury your face into the soft slope of his neck. "You're such an idiot," you sob, unable to hide the rush of emotions going through you. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Tentatively, Yuuta wraps his arms around you, and you melt, pressing yourself closer to his body. "To be honest, I think Gojo-sensei is to blame. I think he forgot to mention to either of us that he asked us to do the exact same thing."

You let out a hiccupping laugh. "Of course he did. That forgetful asshole."

The sigh Yuuta lets out is shaky as he nuzzles the top of your head. "I'm so, so sorry," he tells you earnestly. "I must have scared you, and Rika's mad at me for making me hurt you like that. I think she likes you, even though she pretends not to."

You look up at him, really look at him, and see the look of adoration in his eyes as he stares back down at you. Thankfully Yuuji's escaped long ago, most likely understanding that you two would need privacy. "You came back," you whisper, and Yuuta's resulting smile makes your heart skip a beat.

"I promised you, didn't I?"

Before you can stop yourself, you pull Yuuta down for a searing kiss. He's so soft, and you nip at the plush of his bottom lip teasingly, pulling a whine from his throat. His large hands grip your hips, and in retaliation, you grab a fistful of his hair and tug. The breathy noise he makes goes straight between your thighs. You know he can feel your smile against his lips.

"I missed you," you breathe, pulling away. Yuuta looks dazed, lips kiss swollen, pupils so dilated that you can barely see the soft brown of his eyes.

"I love you," he blurts out, and your resulting laugh is airy as you press another chaste kiss to his lips.

"I've always loved you, Yuuta," you admit. "During Shibuya, I thought I wasn't going to make it. You were the only thing keeping me going."

The look in his eyes is fierce as he tugs you back into him, enveloping you in his arms. "You'll never have to worry about that again. You have my entire life. Where you go, I'll follow, and if I die, not even Death would be able to separate me from your side."

"Those sound a lot like wedding vows, don't you think?"

Yuuta's blush covers his entire face and you grin, pressing one last kiss to his lips. "Come on now. We have kids we need to protect."

As Yuuta leads you to where the others have convened, even under the dark circumstances you're in, the warmth of his hand clutching yours fills you with a giddiness you hadn't experienced in months. The sentiment is quickly dashed as soon as Maki opens her mouth.

"Fucking finally. Inumaki owes me 3,000 yen."

[chocochozi]

The Other Woman.

Pairing : Sanemi Shinazugawa x Hashira! Reader.

Warning : Spoilers for the anime/manga, angst, second choice reader, some fighting

A/N : HIII THANKYOU FOR READINGGG IM SORRY IF ITS HORRIBLE ITS MY FIRST TIME BSNXNZKZ

From the very begining, i always knew that i was just a second choice.

It has always been her it will always be her.

Shinazugawa and me met during our final selection.

He was harsh at first but warmed up to me the next few days together in the Mount Fujikasane. Truth be told, he didn't even want me to stay, i was the one following him around because he was the only one that caught my attention i didn't know why. But something about him just makes me drawn to him.

We fought in the mountain infested with demons side by side. During those times, my then unrequited love for him developed.

Time past by and we were promoted to be Hashiras. Though, it was ashame when Kumeno; the man who helped Shinazugawa and introduced him to a proper trainer, tragically died during both of their encounter with one of the holder of Lower Rank One of the Twelve Kizuki.

There, we met her.

Kanae.

And i can't blame Sanemi for falling for her charms. Shes beautiful, kind, sweet, patient, and has an easy-going personality.

How can i ever compare to her? Im not even close.

Kanae was easy to get along with, after becoming the Ice Hashira, we've sometimes been paired up by Master Ubuyashiki for missions. Therefore, we knew each other quite well.

Seeing the way Sanemi looks at her with heart eyes shatters my heart knowing he loved her, not me. The look in his eyes says it all.

How could I hate her? She's such an angel.

She's perfect where i fail.

"Nemiii~" i whined, impatiently waiting for him to stop training and come with me to eat.

"What?" The white haired man still kept his stance not once even glancing at you.

"C'monnn, you said you'll come with me to the ramen shop near byyy"

Huffing in annoyance, he straighten his body, turning fully to you a defeated expression plastered on his face. "Fine," "Your treat." He added.

"Alright, Let's go!" I grabbed his hands dragging him out then suddenly, Kanae's crow came flying to us informing about the unfortunate event's that led to Kanae's inevitable death.

The news, of course made me upset, she was my friend after all. But Sanemi took the news harder if not, the third hardest after the other two Kocho's. Talking to him seemed impossible after Kanae's death. He avoided me, he avoided everyone. When i try to have a converstation with him, his respond is always just a short answer or a simple hum.

Master Ubuyashiki summoned us two, to inform us about a mission, where we're both paired up. The walk to the place was quiet accompanied by the occational noises of cicadas. I was tired and didn't want to waste my energy to a one sided conversation so i stayed quiet.

As we were walking i felt a presence of someone behind my back, quickly turning around, i saw that a demon was launching at me, while his clawed nails reached for me. A hand wrapped around my waist hopping backwards to get away from the demon, a groaned escaped my lips,

"You okay?" I felt Sanemi's warm breath on my ears i felt a head rushed to my cheeks as i regain my composure. 'Its so hard to focus when im working with you.' I thought.

"Y..yeah. im okay, yeah." I patted the back of my neck and looked at my hands.

Blood.

"Fuck," i tilt my head up and glanced at the demon, a smirk on his face i pulled away from Sanemi taking my sword out of its sheath and drawing it towards the enemy. I took a deep breath and released it out my mouth.

"Ice breathing, first form, Freezing Slash." I launched towards the demon rapidly and precisely strinking him and his neck. Pieces of him dropped to the ground, his detatched head rolling to the ground as it disappears into thin air.

Sanemi walked towards me. "Come here." He softly says, and i obeyed like a puppy. He patched up the wounds on the back of my neck and that day, we reconciled our friendship.

There were times where i wanted to confess to him but didn't want to take advantage of his vulnerable state. Then, that day came where i finally mustered up the courage to finally confess to him, at first he thought i was kidding but once he realize i wasn't, he became nervous. But he did gave the relationship a chance, and we began dating.

But i could never shake the feeling that i was just a replacement, a second choice for the woman he really loved.

"Sanemi! Nemi! Wait!" I yelled running after him.

"What's your place to interfere with me and my brothers problem huh?" He stopped walking and turned around to look at me, a dissapointed look on his face was visible.

"Im sorry, i though– i though it would help.."

"Help with what?!"

"I..i don't know. When you told me about that story about your mother i–" a shaky breath escapes my lips.

"I know how to handle my own brother, and you're out of it." His tone as cold as ice.

"I thought that maybe it will help you move on.."

He stepped towards me, one of his eye brows upwards with a confused look on his face. "Move on from what?"

"From every thing thats keeping you from moving on."

"Why? What do you even know about how i feel? Do you know all the things i had to go to?" His eyes shifted. "Of course not."

"So stop acting like you know my pain, and stop acting like you own it!" His voice raised on the last sentence. "And you can't just say to me when i can move on."

I stood there, in silence. My glossy orbs looking at him.

"Even Kanae who is with me in everything, who knows everything, didn't interfere with my decisions."

That was my last straw.

"Im not Kanae, so stop comparing me to her!"

"You're right, you're not Kanae, and you will never be Kanae." He pointed his finger at me. I looked at him in the eye a tear sliding down my cheeks.

"Kanae is dead. She's not coming back Nemi, but until now you're still acting as if she is here."

"Because she is! She's here!" He pointed at his chest where his heart is.

"If she's there then where am i?.. " my voice quiet but shaky. "Forget it." I walked passed him heading to the door that leads out of his estate. My hand made its way to my mouth to stop myself from crying even louder, the other slid the door open.

I wanted him to chase after me, to tell me we will be okay. But he never did.

How foolish of me to even think that you will. I wonder, if i were to be her will you chase after me?

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: you and idia prepare for a fun day at the beach!

COMMENTS: this is my entry for my own event, sweet shroud summer 2024!! be sure to check it out here!! (shameless self promotion)

IF YOU SEE A TYPO NO YOU DONT I READ THROUGH THIS ONCE AND I DONT FEEL LIKE DOING IT AGAIN

If you asked Idia, today would have been a perfect day to stay inside. The air was warm, the sun was out, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. That was the perfect weather to sit in with the air conditioning and a tub of ice cream, munching on some instant ramen noodles and binge watching one of his favorite anime or absolutely wiping the floor with some idiots in his new favorite game.

If you asked Idia’s partner of two years now, they would disagree.

They came knocking on his door late in the morning, calling his name through the door. Idia, still in his pajamas, scrambles to put a hoodie over his head to at least look somewhat presentable. He briefly checks his appearance in his computer monitor, and once deciding that you’ve definitely seen him looking worse, he cracks open the door.

He knows why he’s been so self conscious around you lately, the "summer body" season in full swing. He doesn’t like thinking about it. Regardless of his appearance though, you beam as if seeing him is the best thing that could have happened to you today.

“Hi.” you breathe, pupils blown as you take him in.

Idia scratches his arm awkwardly, shuffling his feet from behind the door.

“Um, yeah. Hi.”

You giggle, placing a hand on the door.

“May I come in?”

He lets you in, hurrying to clean up extra wrappers and misplaced mangas as you step into his room, eyes following his every move. He’s so cute when he gets nervous around you, shoving things into the various corners of his room to make it look cleaner even though you know his room has always been messy. He’s still in his pajama shorts and his fiery hair is even more untamed than usual.

It makes your heart flutter.

There’s a sweet sense of domesticity that bubbles up in your heart as you take in a sight nobody else has ever seen, the bare skin of his legs and the rolled up sleeves of his hoodie as he throws what looks like five instant ramen cups into a trash can by his desk.

His face is bright pink, and so are the tips of his beautiful beautiful hair.

You part your lips as he turns towards you, bashful and unsure, ducking his head before his hair. You giggle again and his heart picks up in his chest, sharp teeth gnawing at his lower lips. They’re chapped because he has yet to moisturize, and his heart jolts for an entirely different reason when he realizes you might be looking.

Why is he such a mess!?

“Idia, stop getting in your head, okay? Here.” you  dig through your unusually large bag and pull out some chapstick.

Idia flushes pink as you cup your hand in front of him. He places his chin in your palm obediently, and averts his eyes as you apply chapstick to his lips. He rubs them together when you pull away and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Cmere.” you gesture him forward, closer to you again, and Idia feels himself get even warmer.

You lean in and give him a quick peck, murmuring “sharing is caring” against his lips. He snorts at the cheesiness and you can tell his nose is crinkling in half fake half very real disgust. It’s okay—he can take the cringeworthy couple things if it's with you.

“So...um, what do you want to do today?” Idia asks, eyeing the giant bag you have slung over your shoulder. He knows you have a plan, but he doesn’t know if he’d call it a good one.

Yet.

“I’m so glad you asked!” you beam, setting your bag on the ground and rummaging through it, “I was thinking we could take a trip to the beach! When we were watching that anime last night, you said you wanted to try out some of the things they were doing and I knew I had to take you!”

Idia freezes, the scratching of his arm ramping up in intensity as you riffle through the bag. He hadn’t been expecting you to be paying attention to anything he said during that marathon, much less plan anything like this for today. 

“So I got us matching swimsuits, plus swim socks so we don’t poke our feet on anything.” you look up from your bag at him, smiling so brightly, “I wouldn’t want my baby getting hurt.”

Idia flushes even brighter at the pet name and you laugh, handing him a pair of swim shorts and a shirt. He silently thanks you for the cover up, and you two turn away from each other to change into your swim suits. He knows you won’t look at him when he’s changing but he can’t deny the anxiety that comes with being in the same room as you while he’s vulnerable, and so he changes as fast as he possibly can and tells you he’s done.

You take a little bit longer to change, but it isn’t long before you tell him he can turn around too.

He turns, and sure enough, you’re matching. He thinks you look so nice in that shade of blue, and little does he know you think very much the same.

“Can I help apply your sunscreen?” you ask, dangling a neon yellow bottle between your thumb and index finger.

“Are...are you sure?” he winces, “You don’t have to touch me.”

“Idia...I want to if you’ll let me. I don’t want you to burn.” you say softly, eyebrows furrowed.

It's like talking about himself like that hurts you.

“If...you wouldn’t mind...I’d like that.” he slumps down to the floor and tucks his head in between his knees, the tips of his hair turning bright pink again.

“Okay. Can you relax for me?” you ask gently, kneeling by his side.

He takes a few breaths before sitting up, turning to look at you. You beam as his eyes lock onto yours, and you pop the cap open. He holds out his hand to get his legs, and you squirt some into your palm to do his arms.

His arm hair is soft under your fingers as you rub the sunscreen in, making sure to hit every spot that the sun could possibly touch. You can feel his skin warming under your palms, and it makes a soft smile bloom across your face. You run your thumb over the inside of his wrist, and the pad of your finger catches on the tough tissues of his tendons. His fingers twitch at the contact, and you briefly find yourself fascinated by just how boney his wrists are. You sigh softly, your breath hitting his skin. He shudders, and you giggle.

“You know Idia...” you murmur, resting your chin on his shoulder, “You’re very soft. And warm.”

He huffs in annoyance, but the sound is empty of animosity. His red face tells you everything.

When it’s time to move to his other arm, you scoot over to Idia’s other side and press a kiss to the top of his head as you pass. It flusters him to no end, but it's so important to you that he knows how much you love him. That you don’t think he’s filthy and full of sin, for one reason or another.

“Are you done with your legs?” you ask, rubbing the last bit of the cream into his upper arm.

He nods in affirmation, wrinkling his nose.

“I don’t like the way it feels on my skin at all.” he groans, rubbing his fingers together and wincing, “Especially my hands. Gross.”

“Then let’s get your hands washed, honey.” you set the sunscreen on the ground before getting up, offering him a hand when you’re steady on your feet.

He tries not to think about the pet name as he stumbles after you, letting you lead him down the hallway and into Ignihyde’s bathroom. There's another student in there washing their hands, and they gawk when they lay eyes on their Housewarden in a bathing suit.

“Hey there!” you greet cheerfully, dragging Idia past him, “Don’t mind us!”

Apparently seeing Idia like that and with another person was shocking enough that he just listened. Stumbling out of the bathroom like he’d seen a ghost, the door swinging shut behind him.

Silence. Then, you chuckle.

“Wow Idia, your dorm members do not grasp the concept of subtly at all.” you joke, bumping hips with him, “Now come on, let’s get the gross sunscreen feeling off our hands!”

You two wash your hands in silence, only broken by the occasional humming from you or him.

“Is that any better?” you ask once you two are done, and Idia nods slowly.

You take his hands again and lead him out of the bathroom, picking up the pace to make sure you make it to his room before he runs into anybody else. That one encounter was probably more enough for Idia today, especially when you’d insisted the two of you wear matching bathing suits.

“You look cute in it, by the way.” you mention, turning to look over at him, “I don’t think I said it before, but you look cute.”

He squeaks and hides behind his free hand, muttering the fastest “thankyou” you have ever had the pleasure of hearing.

Once you’re both settled back in his room, you sit with your legs criss crossed on his floor, and Idia sits beside you. Your knees are touching as you take out your phone, calling your transportation so you can Idia can arrive at the beach safely. He busies himself with picking up the sunscreen bottle from the floor and folding your clothes, placing them on his bed. The sheets are wrinkled and he tries to smooth them out, cheeks pink as he sets your clothes down next to his. You confirm the ride and put your phone away, standing up and catching his attention.

“While we’re waiting for the ride I figured we could go on a snack run. Would you mind going with me?” you ask, eyes searching his for any apprehension.

“Um...there’s going to be people there, right?” he murmurs, grasping at a chunk of his hair and running his fingers through the strands nervously, “I, um...I don’t want to go, if that’s okay.”

“Honey, of course it’s okay. I’ll be right back.” you reach out and take his hand, planting a kiss in the middle of his sweaty palm before pulling away.

“Ack—! Um, why did you do that? My hands are really sweaty and—”

“And I love you, that's why. Sweaty hands and all.” you interrupt, reaching for his other hand and peppering kisses all over it, “I’ll see you later, love.”

You smile and wave as you leave, shutting the door securely behind you. Idia stands awkwardly in the center of his room for a short while, unsure of what to do with himself now that you’re gone. He finds himself lowering himself to the floor once again, next to your bag. The top is open and next to the sunscreen he threw in there earlier is the scrunchie you always put in his hair. Next to that is a small journal, the blank cover giving it an air of mystery.

He shouldn’t look why would he look he should leave it alone—

He grabs the notebook and cracks open the first page.

The words date plan are scribbled out in your all too familiar handwriting at the top of a lined page. You used your favorite colors of ink, doodling hearts in the margins and using little blue flames as your bullet points.

Invite Idia to the beach to get him outside for once! Pamper him so he doesn’t feel too uncomfortable.

He expressed a lot of discomfort with unfamiliar sensations. Offer to apply sunscreen for him so he doesn’t have to get any of his hands. (Note: he does not like his legs being touched. If he holds out his hand to get his legs just give him some.)

Make sure to give him plenty of kisses and buy him ice cream. They have a limited edition Premo ice cream stand set up by the beach today.

His eyes fly over the page, heart fluttering in his chest. It’s so silly but it’s so you, putting so much effort into a guy like him. The absolute bottom of the barrel.

It’s like his favorite character’s SSR card just came home.

It’s like his favorite anime just got a beach episode.

It’s like you’re everything he’ll ever look forward to, all at once.

If Idia gets burned, make sure you take care of him later.

If Idia wants you to stay over afterwards, stay over with him and do whatever he wants for the night.

If Idia says ANYTHING bad about himself, make sure he knows that it's not true at all!

His face must be bright red right now, the tips of his hair hot pink. You have such a visible effect on him, no matter what you were doing but especially when you were praising him so sweetly. Making up cute dating plans like he's seen in anime, Giving him his own beach episode experience. Taking note of that new Premo ice cream that he knew was only at a few select beaches, and you picked a beach that had one just for him.

And Idia, if you find this and end up reading it, whether I showed it to you or you just got curious, I hope this shows how much I love you. I want you to know that no matter what, I’m always going to be in your corner, even if you shove me out I’ll come back, because I know you want me there. Maybe not forever, maybe not always, but so long as you let me come back to you and chip away at your walls, I’ll be there.

I love how pretty your hair is. It moves so gracefully, like an actual fire. I love how warm you are, and I love how careful your hands are. I love how small your wrists are and the curve of your elbows, I love your teeth and your lips and your eyes, I love how you shine when you talk about the things you love and I love how you look in black. I love how your face twists up when you’re annoyed and I love how you look when you get your favorite character in a gacha. I love how you’re always so dedicated to improving yourself and your craft, I love how sweet you are to me even though you think you’re being slick. I love how smug you get when you win and I love how you lean over and teach me how to play video games when I’m confused. I love how you let me learn on my own but still give me guidance when we have game nights. I love how you let me drag you places sometimes, I hope you know I’m so so thankful you let me. It will forever be special to me that you trust me to take you to my favorite places, and I hope soon we can go to a Premo concert together one of these days

 I’m sure I’ll love the way you swing your glow stick around, I’m sure I’ll love the way you’ll pass out on your bed after everything is over, I’m sure I’ll love the way you hold me as you sleep.

And if you let me,  I’ll love the way wrinkles form in your features, I’ll love your stretch marks, I’ll love the way your joints creak, I’ll love the way your hair turns gray. I’ll love the way you grow older and wiser but the way you’ll still be the same Idia.

If you let me, I’ll make silly little date plans every single outing we have. I’ll tell your mother all about them years from now and we’ll laugh, and I’ll debrief her on my next one. I’ll get your favorite colored pens and use them until I’m sure they’re dead, I’ll decorate my heart and my life with you because I don’t want anybody else.

If you let me, I’ll love you forever. My sweet boyfriend. You’re the smartest, most talented, kindest soul I have ever met. I want to treasure you for as long as I live, if you let me.

A gargled squeak escapes his lips as he sinks even deeper into the floor, falling over in the fetal position. His eyes are full of tears and his bottom lip is wobbling—argh, he has such an ugly crying face—and he knows he looks like a mess but after everything he just read his heart and mind are full of love, love, love.

You see a future with him. You actually do. You seriously, seriously do. Even after everything that happened at STYX. Even after everything he’s told you about himself and his family.

You’re just so impossible. How is he supposed to deal with so much affection at once!?

A knock on the door and a soft announcement of your presence is the only warning he gets before you enter his room, turning to shut the door behind you.

“So you’ll never guess what happened, Sam had a sale on ramune soda so I picked up a few—!” you finally turn around, freezing when you see your boyfriend on the ground, curled up around a familiar notebook.

“Um...I love you.” he chokes out, so quiet you barely hear it.

He turns over completely, eyes puffy and red and watery, and mouths it again, like no noise could come out of his throat even if he wanted it to.

Your eyes go wide at his quiet, tearful declaration. He must be overwhelmed.

You set down all the snacks before you take him into your arms, rubbing his back as he clings to you. It’s rare to see him like this, all vulnerable, but your expression goes soft when you think about that note you wrote for him.

You were vulnerable, and it hit him right in the heart.

He trusts you so much.

“I love you too. I love you so much.” you whisper against his forehead, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin you can find. His hair tickles your cheeks, brushing against your skin like individual caresses, like each and every part of his body loves and adores you.

Like every atom of him yearns for you.

“Let’s go get some Premo ice cream.” he sniffles, leaning into your touch as you wipe away his tears.

“Alright.” you smile affectionately, pulling the two of you up from your crumpled positions on the floor, “Our ride is probably going to arrive soon anyways.”

Idia helps you pack all of the snacks into your bag, but not before giving the journal one last hug when your back is turned.

He’s so lucky. It’s not just that letter that shows it either, he thinks. It’s the shiny ramune bottles and his favorite chips, it’s the candy you picked up and the fruit salad full of sweet, bright colored fruits. It’s the way you kissed his sweaty palms and applied sunscreen to his arms, it's the way you respected that he didn’t want his legs being touched, it’s the way you wrote down all of the things he knows you would have done anyway because you’re you and you’re wonderful.

He zips up the bag for you and slings it over his shoulder, shielding it with his body when you try to grab it. You roll your eyes playfully, getting the message. You go to open his bedroom door and Idia is right behind you, stomach twisting in anticipation. There’s a fair share of nerves, sure, but you’re right in front of him, shielding him like you always have, and when the hallway comes into view he lets you grab his hand and pull him outside.

The pair of you walk down the hallway and outside the building together, hand in hand. You only run into a few students, all of which are too occupied with their own things to gawk at Idia. It makes him feel less nervous and makes you feel better for him.

Sure enough, your ride arrives a little while after you reach the meetup spot, and before he knows it, he’s off on a beach episode adventure with you.

He hopes you won’t change your mind, and that it won’t be the last one you have.

But when he looks over at you and sees you already looking at him with a look that screams love, love, love, he knows for sure there will be more days like this one in his future.

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ E-rank(?)! Jinwoo x E-rank Witch! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 029 ✦ ┆・

‼️[ TW: Yandere Jinwoo, Violence , Manipulation]

꒰ Reader's Powers are inspired by the beautiful manga titled "Witch Hat Atelier". Please give it a read if you're into otherwordly art and adore fantasy! ꒱

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Let Me Tear Apart Everything that Touched You ] ¡! ❞

You really don't know when exactly it had started, all you knew was that Jinwoo suddenly had a second puberty and his height doubled or maybe tripled. His lanky body turned from noodlesticks to buff and solid muscles seemingly carved out of stone with how sturdy they are. His muscles would in fact, even hurt you even as you try to inflict pain on him.

You wanted to ask him about it really, but maybe it's just Jinwoo having not reached full puberty in his teens so his hormones decided to finally pop-in and say hi in order to compensate for their lack of action during his supposed growing days.

Either way, you're proud of him.

Jinwoo's growth spurt had inspired you to work even harder. Thus, you started entering more and more gates much to Jinwoo's dismay.

You two had even argued over it several times but it ends with Jinwoo sighing in defeat and begging, begging, you to immediately leave the gate should anything weird transpire.

It's not that he doesn't have faith in you or he is underestimating you, it's just that he knows all too well the dangers of the gates. Still, he steps aside and lets you be on your way.

Your powers aren't really too great to be honest, consuming even. You needed to draw various symbols on the papers you carry around in order to cast spells. Sure, they could be intimidating sometimes since you can cast spells that are big— But otherwise? It's really just for show and doesn't do much damage.

Oftentimes you are ridiculed along with Jinwoo, two jokes of a hunter dating. Birds of the same feather really do flock together. Just like Jinwoo, you had your fair share of mockery and on more brutal days— Your fellow hunters would beat you up when a raid goes unsuccesful.

You never told Jinwoo about those days, you could never have the heart to make him worry more when he is already busy providing for his family and especially for his mother who is stuck in eternal sleep.

Swallow it done and smile whenever you're with him.

That's what you always do, praying so hard that your deceitful grins could fool him and mask the pain you're desperately trying to hide from his pretty grey eyes.

But... Now.

Maybe you should have listened to Jinwoo earlier when he said you shouldn't go out today.

What a big mistake was it.

You foolishly signed a contract with a raid team and did not thoroughly read the terms and conditions just like Jinwoo had strictly instructed you to do so.

Now you're here, absolutely horrified as the group of burly and violent men inched towards you, bloodlust evident as they inched closer and closer— Backing you up on a corner.

You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream, but your fight or flight instincts instantly turned into freeze.

Not a single muscle in your body would obey the hammering demands of your heart and mind to move— To run.

As your fear-stricken eyes glanced back at those animal-like men, you started to silently curse yourself too.

You should have been good and listened to Jinwoo, because that man's intuition had always been right. You shouldn't have argued with him when he pressed you to stay, you should have been goo.

You should have.

Now who's the fool cornered like a frozen rabbit in the den of lions? Who's the idiot about to piss their pants from sheer fear?

You shouldn't have cussed out Jinwoo before you left the door.

You should have said that you love him.

You should have told him how proud you are of his progress.

You should have told him that you would always be by his side.

You should have given him goodbye kisses.

But now, the last memory Jinwoo would have of you is your prissy face spatting out how nonesensically overprotective he is of you and that he should be worried about himself instead.

You closed your eyes, accepting your fate until you felt a shift in the air around you. The winds suddenly whistled an eerie tune and you stumbled on your feet as the shadows beneath you quivered and rose to be black flames.

In that blaze formed a man, a distinctive blue fabric popping out of nowhere and a shade that you instantly recognized.

Jinwoo.

His back was turned towards you, his hand shielding you away from the preying bastards.

"Fuck..." One of your kidnappers cusses, grinning maniacally. "I almost shit my pants there buddy, you tryna fucking film a movie or something?"

"He's got quite the pretty boy face, bet it'll be prettier once we rough him about. huh?" Another cackles, flaring Jinwoo's temper even more.

"Sarang," Jinwoo's deep voice calls out, causing your heart to tremble at the dangerous tone. "Close your eyes."

You obey his orders and close your eyes immediately. After having learned your lesson, you're not taking any chances after hearing that dangerous tone in his normally gentle and loving voice.

The next thing that happened was a cacophony of tortured moans and wails. Maybe you could hear some other things snapping, a sound you pray to never know since along with those sounds comes with the chorus of tortured cries for mercy.

Eventually, the brutal sounds would come to an end and you feel someone towering over you.

"Babe," Jinwoo calls out and your eyes would flutter open as you feel gentle fingers caressing the side of your cheek. "Look at me."

And so you do, your gaze falling on his blood-splattered features that looked hauntingly handsome.

Your sobs would eventually come out, both from being struck by fear from the earlier events, to feeling bad about how you yelled at him earlier, to feeling remourseful that this man had to put blood on his hands because of your recklessness.

A series of sorries would spill out from your mouth and Jinwoo only comforts you by pulling you to his chest.

"It's fine, it's fine" He says, kissing the side of your head affectionately as he runs a hand on the back of your head. "It's alright, don't cry, don't say sorry. I know it was scary. I know, baby."

His words would fill you with a sense of relief, not knowing the malintent behind it.

Truthfully, Jinwoo already knew of your predicament and had been aware since you first made contact with those bastards. But he needed you to have a glimpse of the horrors, he needed to make you afraid so that this wouldn't happen again.

He hoped by doing this, you would become traumatized and never dare to step in a gate ever again.

Reckless. Yes.

But he would do anything to keep you out of danger.

Again, and again, he kisses your pretty little face, whispering words of comfort in your ears and subtly manipulating you into never stepping inside these horrible places again.

All you need is Jinwoo.

You wont have to worry about money any more.

So don't step into these places, just be a good doll and stay home.

Let him do all the dirty work.

Or else Jinwoo will have to do this again. You don't want that, do you, dear?

You wouldn't want Jinwoo to cut off everyone's necks, do you?

Good?

Good.

Good.

A/N: Whoopsies, I made another Yandere Jinwoo fic... Hahah... Sorry guys.

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[frashka]

I think one of my favourite motifs in farcille is their hand holding tbh because I'm so sure it was intentional, Ryoko Kui is just like that

So, as we know, Falin and Marcille are already very, VERY tactile with each other, but an important separate detail is their hands. They always hold hands when something important and even culminating for them happens. By taking Falin's hand as a child, Marcille takes on a completely new and an unknown life, allowing Falin to teach her something new, to show her something important. By accepting Falin's hand, she accepts new knowledge into her life, new possibilities and, importantly, lets someone to be close to her.

It's also important how Ryouko Kui focuses on their hands when Falin's handing Marcille raspberries, because it's another symbol of Marcille accepting new things and knowledge, thanks to Falin.

Curious and lively and expressive Marcille we, as an audience, know is like that because of Falin in her life. Because she took Falin's hand and let her show Marcille something new. We saw Marcille before that, a little arrogant in her knowledge, and so different from someone we know: serious, unemotional and not so happy. She's lonely. And we see her like that twice in the story: before Falin stepped into her life, and when Falin (in Marcille's head) left her behind. Three years should feel like nothing for a half-elf, right? But Marcille felt that time passing, even mistaken it for four years with how Falin's absence affected her.

Moving forward, it's really important just how much focus we get on Marcille's hands during the resurrection scene: her drawing blood from her palm, powering Ambrosia with it, carefully rearranging Falin's skeleton bone to bone. Despite being pretty fastidious and clean most of the time, here she stains her hands both with dragon's blood and her own.

And after all that, The Bath Scene happens.

Ryouko Kui dedicates THREE panels to their hand holding. Anime adapted this scene nicely, but in manga we feel that slow pacing that makes the whole gesture even more special. It's the act, the way Marcille freezes on the spot, it's how she almost reciprocates before realising what Falin is doing (and ends it more out of concern for Falin's health). This whole scene is about love, trust, care and devotion. Falin realised with what methods Marcille brought her back to life, she knows how dangerous and illegal and draining this magic was and still she trusted Marcille. She takes her hands here because she loves Marcille, because she's greatful to her and because she's worried about her wellbeing. Remember how Marcille cut her palm, how she moved Falin's bones with her bloodied hands? There's a lot about these devoted hands and how tenderly Falin holds them in her own.

Finally, we see the scene before Falin's sacrifice.

It's subtle here, but once again we see Falin holding Marcille's hands. This is the moment when we — when Marcille — understand that this devotion goes both ways. That Falin doesn’t care who gets hurt, who she hurts, she doesn’t care about her own life, as long as it means that her brother and Marcille are alive and safe. They are the most important people in Falin's whole world, and by taking Marcille's hand in hers she tries to soothe her and tell her that everything's alright. That she loves her, she loves Laois, and she wants to make sure that they're safe.

Their devotion goes both ways and runs horrifyingly deep with what they're ready to sacrifice for eachother.

[anime-fan-05]

You don't have to but can you do the Hosts (from OHSHC) but not Haruhi when they find out their crush (female if you may) is being teased by their admirers because they're often together?

Ouran HighSchool Host Club ~Finding out their crush is being bullied by their fans~

Manga/anime: Ouran HighSchool Host Club

Warnings: nothing

(Y/N): your name

(S/O): significant other

Premise

S/O is walking calmly in the garden of Ouran HighSchool, enjoying the light breeze which ruffles his hair.

However, sounds of sobbing suddenly distracts him from the peace he was feeling: (Y/N), the girl he's madly in love with, is crying in a remote corner, with her clothes torn and her hair messed up.

S. Tamaki

He'll immediately run to you, shocked

When he finds out his fans have reduced you like that, he'll be shocked and furious: not only the girl he loves is destroyed, both physically and mentally, but she's so also due to him

Nevertheless, what will shock you the most will be the fact he'll be very quiet

It'll probably take him several days to find a solution, and he'll ask the other Hosts what to do (especially Haruhi, as she's a girl)

After a week of reflection, he'll make an announcement in front of all his fans: "I'm very flattered by your love, but what you did to my friend -he'll be tempted to say girlfriend- is unacceptable. If something like this happens again, we'll be forced to close our Host Club."

O. Kyoya

He'll probably be the one who will react coldest, but that doesn't mean he'll be less affected than the others

He'll sit next to you and give you a handkerchief to dry your tears in a rather cold way even if he'll be suffering inside

Then, he'll help you to go to wash your face, and he'll give you his clothes to change you

It'll then seem he won't take action, but in reality he'll threaten write to all his fans involved

From that day on, he'll stay closer to you in school's corridors and always accompany you home and to school to prevent something like that from happening again

H. Hikaru

He won't have the best reaction: as soon as he notices how reduced you are, he'll almost snap, and he'll almost lose his mind and freak out when he finds out he's the cause of what happened to you

In fact, he'll probably increase your crying, and he'll feel terribly bad about it

However, after about ten minutes he'll calm down, taking a deep breath, and hold you in his arms, rubbing your back and murmuring some apology to you

He'll ask his brother and Kyoya for help to find out who did that to you and Tamaki to chase everyone involved out of school

If Tamaki can't do it, he'll always be close to you, even going so far as to let you stay with him when he's at the Host Club

H. Kaoru

His first thought will be to calm you down: he won't care why you're crying, he'll just hug you tightly

After calming you down, he'll try to convince you to tell him who did that to you

When you tell him that, he'll freeze for a moment, but he'll soon recover and come back to hold you tighter than before, telling you how brave and strong you are, but also to come to him if it happens again

He'll ask his brother to help him to protect you: from then on, Kaoru will stay close to you like a bodyguard whenever he can, Hikaru will watch you from afar when his twin can't be close to you

He'll also make a promise to himself, that's never to let anyone hurt you like that again

H. Mitsukuni (Honey)

He'll immediately run towards you, hugging you tightly

When he finds out those who did that to you are his fans, his face will darken, and he'll break your embrace, give you Usa-chan and run away to those responsible for your situation

After arriving at his fans, he'll tell them to leave you alone, appearing calm on the outside and behaving as usual, but seething with anger on the inside

After this, he'll return to you to take Usa-chan back and whisper compliments to you, so that you won't think about the words of your attackers

He won't let any more unpleasant things happen to you, because he's sweet and kind, but if someone he loves gets hurt by someone...

M. Takashi (Mori)

At first he won't know how to react, so he'll stare at you for a few seconds and then give you some embarrassing pats on the head

"Y/N." "…Yes?" "What's wrong?"

After you explain what happened, he'll nod and awkwardly wrap his arm around you protectively

The next day (he'll have had to go to ask the other Hosts for advice and their approval on what he intends to do) he'll go to his fans and tell them to leave you alone

He won't care what happens next or if they're no longer his fans: for him the important thing is your happiness and security

💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮

[miyahchan]

Week One - October 2nd - Ghost!Gojo x Reader

Synopsis: After the death of your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, you can still feel his lingering touch.

Word Count: 1.6k

🚨 Warnings: 18+ content, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, penetration, overall super smutty.

The content in this post contains spoilers for the anime / manga! Also, there is a good amount of angst here :) 🚨

Check out the official Kinktober 2024 post HERE!

On the bus back home, you felt the same pair of eyes boring into the back of your skull. You didn’t want to turn around again – no, you couldn’t. 

            You slid your compact mirror from your purse, flipping it up and angling it toward the back of the bus. From the glass, you saw nothing but empty seats behind you. The other passengers had gotten off miles ago, leaving you as the last stop. It was only you and the bus driver. Or at least that’s what you were convincing yourself was true. But you had to be sure.

            A heavy sigh escapes you and it feels like it takes every fiber of your being to turn around. You knew he’d be there. He always was. Your eyes landed on him. He sat all the way in the back, merely a figure sticking out from the shadows.

            It was Gojo, again. Your lover. Your deceased lover.

            His blue orbs held your gaze, never breaking away. He was pale, paler than the last time you’d seen him. He wore a tight, black shirt and white pants – the outfit he’d died in. He never wore anything else when you saw him, not even the clothes you’d gotten him as a gift over the many years you’d been together. It was a sick reminder, and you didn’t know who to blame. You knew your brain was conjuring up a twisted image of your lover, a sad amalgamation of the pain you’d been feeling over the past few months. He couldn’t possibly be there, right?

            You rush off the bus as soon as you reach your destination. The thin, winter air smacks your face as your legs carry you down the sidewalk and toward your apartment building. You don’t dare to turn back. He’d be there, yet again, not even chasing you. Just… there. 

            Your apartment was quiet that night as it was every night. You had run a warm bath and even drank some herbal tea, trying to calm your nerves, but nothing worked. You were scared. It was a horrible feeling to be scared to see. To be scared to look in the corner or look in the mirror or even open your eyes in the morning. You weren’t scared of Gojo. No, quite the opposite. Gojo Satoru was your comfort, your home, your heart. But what lingered in your peripheral every passing moment of the day wasn’t your Gojo. It was just what remained of him.

            What did you do to deserve this? That was the question you asked yourself every day. You hadn’t cursed him, as you knew what would happen if you did. You wanted him to move on from this earth and find peace wherever he ended up, but somehow, he was still here.

            You had stared at the ceiling until you eventually dozed off in your bed, but you woke up as suddenly as you fell asleep. The digital clock on your nightstand was a neon blur but you made out the numbers as you slowly came to – 2:36 am. A surge of paranoia rushed through your body as the image of Gojo watching you on the bus flashed in your mind. You jumped up to check your surroundings, ready to catch those eyes staring at you from the corner of the room but something stopped you. 

            There was a weight on you, stopping you from moving. 

            You feel trapped and your eyes travel down only to find arms wrapped around your torso. A shiver ran down your spine and you didn’t know if it was from fear or the fact that whoever held you was cold. Freezing cold. 

            “Gojo?” The word fell shakily from your mouth.

            You felt his fingers begin to trace the skin under your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. You melted into the familiar touch, falling slack and just now noticing the strong build resting behind you. You lean back into Gojo’s broad chest and let him touch you. His hands move upwards, caressing your breasts and letting his ice-cold fingers run over your nipples.

            You weren’t sure when you’d gained the confidence for it, but you interrupt him and turn around to face him. You froze in your tracks. Instead of the lifeless gaze that had been watching you endlessly, his eyes were warm and his skin was flushed, like life had been breathed back into his body. His hair was fluffy and messy, just like how it would be in the mornings before he got ready to go teach his students.

            “You’re crying.” His voice knocked you from your thoughts. It was his usual mocking tone, something you’d missed hearing more than anything. A smirk adorned his face.

            Wiping your eyes, you realized that you indeed were crying. You punctuated this with a sniffle. “I- how are you…”

            Gojo didn’t answer the question, instead opting to just watch you. The smirk remained, but behind his eyes, there was something there. Sadness. Before you could comment, he put a hand on the back of your head and brought you toward him, smashing his lips against yours. You kissed him back with no hesitation. The kiss was needy, like you were having your first taste of oxygen after not being able to breathe for so long. You forced his mouth open and slipped your tongue in, tasting everything Gojo had to offer. He still tasted the same. You work on getting your clothes off as you indulge in him.  Gojo is just as desperate as you. As soon as you’re naked, he strips as well, his lips only leaving yours to take off his shirt.

            You moan into his mouth as he flips you over, his strong hands roaming all over your body. He grips your hips, your thighs, your breasts, anything he can get his hands on. His lips leave yours only to move to your neck, where he sucks the skin passionately, leaving purple bruises. He travels down, leaving a track of hickeys wherever his lips land. When he reaches your pussy, you spread your legs eagerly. 

            “Please, baby, please…” Is all you can breathe out before Gojo latches onto your clit and you let out a sharp moan. His hands keep your thighs apart as he devours you. He focuses on your clit first, the teasing that you were accustomed to throughout your relationship being replaced with pure desire. His tongue swirls around your bud, gathering up your juices and he spits them harshly on your clit before attacking it again. He then takes your clit between his lips and sucks, making you arch your back high off the bed. His eyes are closed, relishing in your taste as his tongue slips and slides in your pussy. He focuses on your entrance, sliding his tongue in and out until he feels your legs start to shake in his grasp.

            You scream as you cum on his face and your juices coat his lips. He flattens his tongue as you grind against it, riding out your orgasm. God, you missed this. You grind on his tongue until you overstimulate yourself, and you collapse against the mattress.

            Gojo clearly isn’t finished with you as he climbs on top of you, licking your cum off his lips before he kisses you again. He’s uncharacteristically quiet as the two of you make out yet again, not even making a noise when you run your fingers through his hair and pull at the strands. Before you can think about it, you feel Gojo sliding his tip up and down your pussy, gathering your wetness on his length before he sheathes his entire length inside of you.

            Even though it had been so long, you could never forget the pleasure of finally feeling your lover inside of you. He’d always stretched you out so good, and tonight was no exception. You whine as he starts to slide in and out achingly slow, prepping you. His tip is already kissing your g-spot and his pelvis stimulates your already sensitive clit every time your hips meet. You could orgasm from this alone, but Gojo had always been an overachiever. He speeds up his pace and presses his body against yours so that you’re chest to chest, hitting a different angle than before.

            “Gojo! Ah, right there!” You moan in his ear, unashamed of how loud you are. At the same time, Gojo is moaning in yours. It’s a mix of curses and desperate whines that escape him as he drills into you.

            “I’m…” He groans when you clench around his dick just right. “I’m going to miss this.”

            His words fly right over your head as you feel a second orgasm building in your stomach. You swear he starts to fuck you even deeper and at that point, he’s fucking you into the mattress. “Oh god, I’m..” 

            “Me too.” The two of you reach your orgasms together, the room filling with nothing but the sounds of skin on skin and cries of pleasure. You pulse around him, milking him until you feel him cum inside of you. You coat him in a thin, shiny layer of your juices as he finally slows down to a halt. He’s still inside of you as he stares down at your now worn-out form.

            The last thing you remember before you fall asleep is his lips mouthing the words, “I love you.”

            You woke up alone that next morning, buried in a pile of blankets and your withdrawn clothing. Gojo was gone. He was gone when you rode the bus to work. He was gone when you ran your weekly errands. He was gone when you came back to your apartment every night.

            You never saw your lover again, not even in the corner of your eye.