#crow - a gift from the heavens

[kassgender]

Fami from chainsaw man ID pack..?

✰ FAMI ID PACK ;

NAMES ; Sable , Elara , Thalassa , Lyra , Vesper , Oriana , Astra , Mirelle , Zephyr , Lysandra , Seraphina , Avalon , Solara , Soleil , Aria , Ariadne , Elysia , Selene , Hunger , Famine , Solace , Scythe PRONOUNS ; Ae/Aers, Starve/Starves, Hunger/Hungers, Dae/Daemons, Silence/Silences, Enigma/Enigmaself, Trick/Tricks, Cipher/Ciphers, Drought/Droughts

Apologies for the lack of content on this post -- while I have no issues with filling this request, it is not a source I am incredibly knowledgable on. I hope that this is to your liking!

[peachdues]

AGING HEADCANONS — SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA

just a lighthearted drabble about Sanemi dealing with the effects of age on his body.

CW: 600 words • MDNI • suggestive/implied sexual content • comfort • fluff

Sanemi Shinazugawa strikes me as the type to retain a great deal of his strength as he ages. He takes pride in his muscles, and even after the Corps is disbanded, he keeps up his physique. After all, while the threat of demons has been purged from the earth, humans are still a fickle enemy. Best to be prepared to defend himself — and his family — at all times.

But what Sanemi is not prepared for is the impact his rigorous training has on his body as he gets older. Sure, he’s strong; always has been, always will be. Unfortunately for the former Wind Hashira, however, Sanemi is learning that reaching his forties has its consequences.

His joints, for example, are just the latest casualty.

“The fuck do you mean I threw a hip out?” He grumbles you help him settle into your sofa with a grunt. “I’ve done these exercises every day for more than twenty damn years —“

“Not as flexible as you were in your twenties, are you?” You half-scold, half tease, wiping your hand across your damp forehead.

When you’d awoken that morning, you hadn’t expected the labor of lugging your husband back inside his mansion before he’d completed his morning training.

You’d been in the middle of preparing tea for you to share once he’d finished — a well-settled part of your routine, one you knew he looked forward to as much as you did, even now, twenty years after you’d married. Never before had this sacred ritual been disrupted until this morning, when Sanemi’s strangled yell sent the birds scattering into the sky, and the tea kettle nearly out of your hands.

You’d hurried out into your gardens, where Sanemi maintained his sparring ring, complete with thick, wooden posts and an orderly litter of training weapons. There, sprawled across the ground, had been your husband, spitting every filthy word in his lexicon into the dirt, his hand gingerly braced atop his right hip.

In your retirement from the Demon Slayer Corps, Sanemi had been the more active one between the two of you. You regretted not keeping up with training, however, when you’d been forced to shove your shoulder under your husband’s and half-heave, half-drag him back inside your shared estate.

Once settled, you help guide Sanemi’s right leg up onto the cushion, keeping his hip elevated. “I’ll ring for Kanao or one of her girls, later.”

The Kamado family lived well over an hour away in the mountains. Had Sanemi been injured even a decade earlier, you would’ve panicked. While you were certain the doctors in the nearby prefecture were perfectly competent, there were none you trusted more than Kanao or her daughters. Thankfully, you no longer had to rely on crows or even mail services to reach them, Sanemi having purchased a telephone a few years earlier.

To your surprise, Sanemi doesn’t argue, instead turning his attention to the way you rub at the small of your back.“You okay?”

“Better than you,” you retort easily, forcing yourself to walk away, spine straight, into the kitchen to fetch the tea you’d prepared. Like you’d let him see how age was beginning to affect you, too. Heaven knows the kind of trouble you’d be in if both of you were down for the count, and you don’t think you could survive the embarrassment of sending after one of your children for assistance.

You return a moment later with the tea tray, laden with the delicate china Sanemi had gifted to you on your wedding day. He grunts his thanks when you hand him his cup, filled halfway with his tea of choice — green — sharp and bitter, the way he liked.

You busy yourself with pouring tea for yourself. “Maybe this is your sign to ease up. It’s perfectly normal that you can’t do the same things you once could, you know.”

He deflects with a cocky, smug grin. “Don’t have any trouble keepin’ up with you, darlin’. At least, you haven’t had any complaints.”

Humming, you settle into one of the great armchairs across from him. “If memory serves me right, your knee popped rather loudly the other night.”

He’d been thrusting hard up into you while you braced your hands against the headboard when a loud pop! had disrupted the steady rhythm of your hips. And, try as he might, your husband’s furtive attempt at covering the sound with a loud moan hadn’t been successful.

Sanemi’s cheeks redden, and he drops his gaze back to his tea, muttering under his breath. You smirk. Y/N, one; Sanemi, zero.

“Gettin’ old sucks,” he sighs, blowing on the steaming liquid. “Bet fuckin’ Uzui doesn’t have to deal with this shit. Tomioka and I are the only ones who still train consistently.”

“Yes, well, Uzui has his plate full.”

It was true; between three wives and four children, you reckon the former Sound Hashira got more than his fair share of physical activity.

You glance to your husband, then, chewing lightly on your lip. “I’m happy you have these issues, you know. These aches and pains — I think they’re a good thing.”

Sanemi snorts, though his eyes warm when he meets your gaze across the sitting room. “You just like seein’ me knocked down a few pegs.”

“Not at all,” you set your tea cup on the lacquered table between you and smooth your hands over your skirt. “I like knowing you’re here to age.”

Solemnity passes over his face then, softening the irritated set of his mouth. You know, as well as he, how lucky the two of you are to be sitting here, bemoaning the woes of aging, when so many of your comrades hadn’t the same fortune.

Every morning you see is a blessing; every new line appearing by your eyes or the corners of your mouths, a luxury far too many never got to indulge. No matter how inconvenient your stiffening joints or limited mobility became, you would never not be grateful.

When Sanemi finds his voice, it is hoarse with emotion. “Get over here. I wanna kiss you.”

Oh, you would love nothing more, but now that you’ve sat down, you find the concept of standing up almost an impossible feat. Perhaps the two of you really are doomed.

Busted, you grin, sheepish. “Can’t. My back is a little more sore than I let on.”

Sanemi groans and you laugh. “Then I stand by what I said. Gettin’ old fuckin’ sucks.”

[100jewels-between-teeth]

18+ Oneshot

Word count: 3055

AO3 ¤ Ko-Fi ¤ Masterlist

~ Summery: They both could not truly understand if this was the reality they were gifted, or elaborate hells that they were still stuck within. But through late night reassurances before their final fight, they both find themselves grounded in a crazed reality that could only be blissful as long as they are with one another.

Lucanis x f!Rook de Riva

Cw: Smut, just pure lovemaking smut, overstimulation AN: So... this is my first smut posting here so... well enjoy. Im def not nervous. Huge massive shoutout to @enterthedreams for the beta!!! Honestly youre my favorite person.

Something about the sound of his steady heartbeat harmonizing with the calm breathing that caressed her damp, flushed face, was nothing short of bliss. The couch had been abandoned at some point during their second round. Now they were just content to lay on the floor, surrounded by blankets and candles bathing them both in a romantic glow. Between that and the reflective veins of the aquarium above, Avantika could not help but think this all looked to be the most ethereal dream. 

To see Lucanis like this, to even hear him like this, made him more godlike than any of the Evanuris could think to achieve. Lucanis must have noticed the silent adoration that Rook was giving him. A brow arched as he reached to move some hair that remained stuck to her skin away. His hand did not immediately retreat, taking a moment to trace the outline of her cheekbone. It followed down until the tip of his finger was resting at the bottom of her chin. Without even a silent command, Rook leaned in to have her lips grace his own – a kiss of gentle tenderness and love. “What has your mind distracted, mi diosa?” The look of concern on Lucanis’s features immediately tugged at her heart, wanting to eradicate any kind of emotion that was not happiness in this moment, in this little world they had created. 

Concern was for what would take place in the morning, not now. Not here. “Would you believe me if I said you?” The smile that she gave him was one filled with dimples on her cheeks and teeth. 

Lucanis’ own reflected straight back, a smile that would tear down the heavens. It was a privilege to Rook that she had been gifted his smile. His trust and comfort. That kind of smile could only be reciprocated with another kiss, moving from his lips to the bags under his eyes. For the first time, Avantika felt the exhaustion in those beautiful eyes was warranted. They both had given up on sleep a long while ago. 

Lucanis was right. 

How on earth could either sleep when the other was like this? “I could only hope it is good. I know it has been a while so my skills might take some ti – ” Before Lucanis could even finish the sentence, Avantika was quick to cut him off. “Oh, shut your fucking mouth.” 

She all but pounced on his broad chest, attacking his face with her lips while tenderly pecking and nipping as his own laughter filled the room. Strong arms wrapped around the woman as he took her in a roll, accepting this defeat as he got Rook on her back. The sight of him above her, eyes filled with nothing but love looking into her own almost brought her to tears. But in this light, the reflections of water mixed with the flickering candlelight, she could not help but have her eyes drawn to that silver puckered skin on his chest. Which only brought her eyes to all the others that littered his body. It came with the job, the scars. 

Lucanis probably noticed at some point with all the clothes flying off that Rook had her own. Some Crows – usually Viago – would tell anyone that scars meant a sloppy job. Crows were meant to be clean. Quick in and out performances. From what Avantika could assume, neither her nor Lucanis were exactly fitting that description. 

Catching the direction of her eyes, a small smirk grew. He raised himself into a seated position on her lap as Avantika rested upon her shoulders. “My cousin gave me that one, funnily enough.” Lucanis shrugged, the pad of his thumb tracing over the two inch long pinkish line. “We were sparring in the garden, and snuck a couple of Caterina’s knives. You know how it goes, stupid kids playing with knives.” “So what you’re saying is that he beat you?” It took everything in Avantika not to let out a little snicker. “What?! No! I beat him and he gave me this because he is a sore loser!” Lucanis placed his hand over his heart in mock offence. But the flint in his eyes gave away that jovial mischief. “I killed a god, Rook! You think my cousin is going to best me?” “Okay, okay!” Rook lifted her hands in surrender, seating herself up more so that they were both level with each other. Lucanis made sure not to keep his whole weight on her legs or hips. “I'm just saying it only took until the second chance and – ” “And I did not have a demon, nor a woman like you, distracting my thoughts then, pequeña cuervo.” Lucanis’s voice dipped to a playful low growl, taking her face in his hands as he traced the tip of his nose against hers. “I'd say that is unfair.” 

For as much as this man tried to play that intimidation game, they both knew with Avantika, he could only be this soft man. “Ah yes. My fault, I see your game, Dellamorte.” Avantika playfully pushed the man away, moving to stand with the destination of nowhere in mind. “I see how it is.” 

The arm that wrapped around her waist was expected, Avantika letting Lucanis pull her back as he assaulted her neck with kisses. 

“Forgive me diosa, I mean it as the greatest compliment.” His nose buried in the thick wild mass of her hair as he took a deep breath of her scent. 

Rook felt him rock their bodies back and forth, his bare chest pressed against her bare back as his face travelled from her neck to the line of her shoulders. Avantika had learnt much from this night. Like how this man could spend literal hours just memorizing every dip and valley of her body. How there was not an inch of skin he would leave unappreciated, unadorned with his branding lips and igniting breath. How Lucanis could be so determined to find every spot that made Avantika shudder, whimper, bite her lip to suppress that moan he was chasing. 

Maybe it was for the thrill of the sexual experience. That carnal desire both had suppressed for however long in their lives, let it be their choice or otherwise.  

It was so much more than just a simple desire. It was reassurance, to make sure that what they were tasting, kissing, loving, was real and tangible. That what they were trusting with their most vulnerable hearts was real, that the safety and love they both wanted to shelter them was truly existing. 

So the lingering touches, whether it be to explore a desire or just for the comfort of feeling they were there, helped the both of them. When Lucanis kissed from one shoulder blade to another, humming happily to himself as he felt the trail he left behind bloom in blush, she smiled, nuzzling into the skin. “And the others? Were those Illario too, or do you just have that many sore losers you fight?” Rook could not help but giggle at the small bite Lucanis left in warning following a growl. 

She turned around in his arms. Now Avantika sat in his lap with both legs on either side. Leaning back, she could hear that stifled whimper Lucanis gave, not wanting her too far away from his adoring touch and gaze. Her fingers went to his lips, playfully hushing him. Those wide brown eyes looked to her with deepest reverence, his lips automatically capturing the pads of her fingertips between his lips and his beard tickled the skin he kissed softly. Finally breaking her focus away from that beautiful face, her amber eyes fell back to those scars decorating his body. Some were jagged, rough, and others seemed so precise and delicate. It truly was a strange kind of tapestry of his life he bore. Where some were faded, only a ghost of a story lingering, others seemed quite new, possibly no less than a year old. That thought made Avantika swallow the sudden lump in her throat as Lucanis reached to gently brush her cheek. Rook’s eyes flickered back to him. 

A silent question being asked as her hand fell away from his face, instead ghosting over the scar they both had just focused on. Compared to the others, it was rather tame. Of course, if touching such wounds was far too fast, too personal for Lucanis to deal with right now, Avantika would stop immediately. But with a shivering breath, goosebumps appearing on his skin, he nodded. His right hand took hers softly, directing her to another, far more jagged scar over his right bicep. Her touch was featherlight. As if Lucanis would just shatter like glass if she applied any more pressure. Whether it was her touch, or his scar being touched specifically, Lucanis let out a shudder, his breath hitching in his throat as Avantika slowly traced over every curve. His hand fell away, letting Avantika fully explore the canvas of this man. 

“Ambushed on a job.” For how jovial he sounded, Lucanis's voice was almost breathless. “Not that the target had any backup, but the attic I chose to enter seemed to have a hermit also residing there. Maybe I deserved it for disturbing the peace of his sleep.” 

When he finished speaking, a few deep breaths followed. Avantika’s hand traced over the valley of his chest, finding a scar just on his shoulder. This one was much different – not a stab or a cut, but instead a burn just slightly smaller than her palm. “A couple years ago, one of my targets really didn’t want to go down without some sort of blaze of glory.” Something in Lucanis’s voice became quieter, more wistful as Avantika’s finger traced small circles within the taut skin. “Burnt their entire estate to the ground. Still managed to get him, but I didn’t really consider the falling debris.” 

“Viago had told me about that incident.” Avantika could not help but snicker and flick the nose of the man whose expression went from light to deadpan. “Said that is the reason if you take a contract, make sure you case the home for the smell of oil.” 

But hearing the woman laugh, he could not stop the smile reappearing. Seeing the smile too, Rook nuzzled her nose to the corner of his lips, eliciting another low chuckle from the Crow as she continued her discoveries. That finger of hers trailed from the shoulder down his arm, asking about every little story Lucanis could remember. Some were from little accidents; falling from roofs, lost drunken bets, Illario being the cousin that he is. 

Others, she could feel his body stiffen at the stories, some much harder to stir in his memory than others. For those particular reflections, Avantika’s hand would reassuringly stroke Lucanis’s hair, not wanting such memories to take over his heart and mind from the small bubbled world they had created. There came a point where Avantika stopped asking. Where both of their voices just somehow drifted away as she traced over the scars over and over. 

Then she felt, to herself at least, her touches were not enough. That just a lingering touch could not help heal the wounds of memories left behind. She may not be able to heal them completely, but the least she could do was make sure he was never alone in facing the dark. At this point, Avantika had homed herself behind Lucanis, the man’s back to her chest. When her finger disappeared, and for a moment there was just the ambient air around them, a soft and fleeting whimper escaped Lucanis, having grown so accustomed to her adoring touches. But what was once just the feeling of a featherlight finger became replaced with the burning warms of Rook’s lips, capturing the puckered flesh of the healed wound between her lips. 

Where Lucanis had just let out near breathless whimpers before, this touch had made those sounds change to something far deeper, more guttural. The sound sent shivers and pleasured waves through Avantika’s body, only able to take that as the go ahead to keep moving forward. 

For the next blissful eternity, Avantika worshipped every scar, every physical remnant of a memory on Lucanis’s body. Her lips, tongue, even teeth did everything they could to kiss away whatever metaphorical demons lingered within them. It did not take long for Lucanis to lose whatever sliver of control he had over himself in this moment, his body shuddering every time her lips graced another scar. 

Bit back moans became guttural growls and whined pleading, words incomprehensible. But, slowly, so agonizingly slowly, Avantika made her way around the man’s body. From his back, down the length of his arms. Even his hands and fingers did not escape her worship, those small worn knicks and weathered callouses receiving nothing but love from her mouth and breath. By the time Avantika returned to straddling Lucanis’s hips, he had become a shivering, opened mouth mess. Gasping open-mouthed breaths, skin fire-hot and oversensitive. Avantika could only assume not once had this man ever felt this kind of care, this kind of much deserved appreciation given to his body. If together meant forever showing this man the love and adoration he deserved to feel for the rest of his life, Avantika would willingly take it. 

For the next million lifetimes over. Her lips finally broke away from her journey. Then Lucanis’s arms shot up to hold her own, white knuckled like she was the only lifeline he could cling to. For a moment, Avantika saw the panic in his eyes – one that the two seemed to share. The panic that this was not real, that the two were in some elaborate and cruel dream. His mind still in the Ossuary partly, this being some new method of torture concocted by Calivan. 

To her, this could have been another visage in the Fade. Solas being cruelly sympathetic and letting her live out the rest of existence in the Fade in some warped, tortured dream. But as his breath once again caressed her face, his heartbeat thrumming in his chest, Avantika knew that this was true. 

This was real. 

This was their eternity, together. And if she had to prove that, by the gods she would. Before he could speak of their worries, her hand found his lips again. Lucanis’s eyes rolled to the back of his head at the contact, his breath shuddering. Rook kept her own mouth nearly a breath away from his, drinking in every gasp and moan that he fed her with. His arousal was already quite prevalent against her thigh, exhausted and oversensitive from the prior adorations of the night, but still somehow more. 

For a long moment, Avantika just kept herself still, falling into the abyss that was his gaze. A stare filled with love and pure bliss at what was being held in his arms. Letting her hand slowly slip away again, she silently allowed Lucanis to help lift her waist, their faces not breaking the miniscule distance from each other. Both wanted to drink this in, drink each other in. To witness their eyes, their breaths, their very beings connecting as one. And so it did. 

Slowly, he sheathed himself within her warm walls once more. The overstimulation of the night prevented him from fully entering completely, letting out a long whine at the surge of overwhelming pleasure that shot through him. Avantika could not blame him, her own mewl following as her sex automatically tightened as much as it could from the entrance. 

Both were well spent, well satisfied, but this coupling was far more than just sex, just chasing pleasure. This was the two solidifying themselves in reality, within each other. Drinking in her moans, Lucanis canted his hips upward, sharply letting the rest of himself become engulfed. The cry that ripped through his throat was quickly devoured by Avantika’s kiss. Not a kiss of precision, but one full of teeth and tongue – one that just needed to devour him completely. 

He groaned into her mouth, his own kiss sloppily reciprocating as the two began to move together as one. Both of their hips rolled simultaneously as they cried out in a frenzied ecstasy. Rook finding all the scars again to drag her nails along, eliciting the most erotic and passionate cries from the Crow beneath her. That is when the first tear fell from Avantika’s face. 

She did not know what exactly made her cry through all this. The immense pleasure he was giving her with every stuttering thrust, the wailing cries and whimpers they both fed each other, or just the knowledge that he was here with her. 

That all of this was real. That their love was real. 

So when the tear fell to his cheek, he immediately latched his lips to her face, kissing away every exhausted tear she produced as his own materialized. Neither knew how long they rocked with each other, neither really seemed to care. Avantika had let herself go, losing count on how many times Lucanis had made her unravel into jaded oblivion. He had come with her, his seed filling her core and overflowing, dripping like the tears on her cheeks, thighs slick with the physical representation of Lucanis’s adoration. It could have been an hour, to them they did not care if it was days spent like this either. But pulling away one more time, collapsing on their side to the floor as their legs were wrapped in a tangled heap, Lucanis kissed the remaining tears away, Avantika following suit. “Diosa mía, mi vida, mi corazón y mi ser son sólo tuyos. Te amo, mi pequeño cuervo.” Lucanis followed his words with a long, lingering kiss, one that carried the love of his words.  Avantika could not help but let out a choked sob at the beauty of his words. A language she had to learn, that she thanked every god above she kept remembrance of. With her own reciprocating kiss, capturing his lower lip between her teeth, she looked up into his eyes, her hand wiping away the remaining tears staining his cheek.

“Lucanis… You're really here, we are really here. My love for you, truly, is here.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

mi diosa - my goddess pequeña cuervo - little crow Diosa mía, mi vida, mi corazón y mi ser son sólo tuyos. Te amo, mi pequeño cuervo - My goddess, my life, my heart and my being are yours alone. I love you, my little crow.

[cammys-imagines24]

• Being in a Relationship with Kaz Brekker •

No one is going to dare touch you, that's for sure. Doesn't matter where you are, whether you're in the most shady parts of Ketterdam or the worst of pleasure houses.

No one will go near you or chance laying a hand on you. Not unless they'd like their face bludgeoned with a crow's head cane, everything they've ever loved taken from them and their bank account completely wiped out.

Though despite your unspoken protection and despite whatever rare intimacies Kaz may show you while in private, out in public he treats you as no more than a stranger.

He can't have others, enemies, seeing how much you mean to him. He can't have his preferential treatment slipping through the cracks and out into eyesight and hearing distance.

He would give you the world, burn down the heavens and lay claim to hell for you but any public displays of his affection is out of the question.

You know how crows will gift little trinkets to the people they're attached to? Well Kaz will literally do that with you.

Often you will happen upon little presents or useful gadgets resting on your pillow in your room at the Slat. All anonymous, because it's Kaz we're talking about but you know who they're from obviously.

It took a very, very long time for Kaz to open up to you and reveal to you his past, his trauma but once he decided of the place you held in his heart, he never backtracked ever again.

He will never keep a secret from you and you are the only one who is privy to all his plans, every single step. From plan A to plan F.

Kaz yearns, oh, he does yearn. His craving for you is more deep than the True Sea and more faithful than that of a compass showing you North.

But with his aversion, it is all about baby steps and you've accepted that about him.

For instance, if you're feeling upset or scared or even needing a bit of human to human contact Kaz has realized that if he gives you one of his gloves that that assists him.

By wearing one of his gloves you can touch his arm or rest your palm against the beating drum of his heart or even hold hands for a brief period.

He knows it isn't much and it kills him, it really does but it's the best he can offer at the moment.

Though every day Kaz feels like he's healing, brick by brick, because of you. And maybe one day you two needn't the gloves at all.

One day he wishes to touch you freely, openly. Getting past his fear and phobia if only to be graced with the brush of your lips against his or the warmth of your body.

With you Kaz tries, he really tries to be more than just "Dirtyhands" Brekker or the bastard of the barrel.

And sometimes, only you can see glimpses of Kaz. Just Kaz Rietveld. A boy in love.

[imaginehappyhavoc]

Heya! Could i ask for some headcanons of the thh boys with an ultimate crafter reader that likes making little trinkets for them? -🔥

A/N: Naww Crow!Reader!! (◠‿◠✿)

Pairing: thh boys x Reader

Genre: Fluff!

Warnings: N/A

Makoto Naegi:

♡ Oh, this makes him SO HAPPY.

♡ He’s the type to love absolutely anything homemade. Art, cooking, you name it.

♡ It’s honestly comedic how fast his face lights up when you say “I made something for you.”

♡ Just immediately the brightest smile he can manage, and all but running to see what it is this time.

♡ Sometimes he’ll even make you things in return! Though, it normally doesn’t come out as good as he’d like. His damned luck cycle gets in the way.

♡ He keeps everything you make him, no matter how much space it takes up.

Byakuya Togami (platonic):

♡ No one’s… ever done that for him before.

♡ He was raised to recognize an item’s worth by its price tag. Mainly because no one in his life actually cared enough to take time out of their day and make something for him.

♡ He’s honestly flabbergasted every time you do this tbh.

♡ He’ll just hold whatever you made in his hands, staring at it for a just a bit too long. It’s the only time you’ll ever see him speechless.

♡ You tell him it’s okay if he doesn’t want to keep it. He says he won’t.

♡ He does.

Yasuhiro Hagakure:

♡ Did you mean: Ultimate Hype Man?

♡ He’ll get a gift from you and he’s bolting to the common room of the dorms to show it off to everyone.

♡ Always something along the lines of “look at what my SUPER amazing, SUPER talented partner MADE for me!”

♡ He loves anything you have to give him, obviously, but especially if he doesn’t know what the fuck it is.

♡ The things he treasures most in the world are useless lil trinkets that look funky and cool. So if you like metalworking, he might marry you on the spot.

Leon Kuwata:

♡ He loves it so much he loves you so much and no he is totally not about to cry shut up-

♡ Leon is an unexpectedly emotional guy. He reacts to everything, especially positive things, with so much enthusiasm.

♡ So when you come up to him and sheepishly give him a small trinket you made for him, his “cool guy” front just melts.

♡ He’ll like. Hop. Just bounce in place like a really excited rabbit, because that’s basically what he is in this moment.

♡ He keeps it on him wherever he goes. Either he’ll fashion it into an add on for his chain necklace, or he’ll make use of one of his many pockets.

♡ Anytime someone asks about you, he’ll smile so wide and take it as an invitation to show them everything you’ve ever made for him.

Chihiro Fujisaki:

♡ Hugs. Just the tightest, most love-packed hugs you’ve ever experienced in your life.

♡ They try really hard not to cry, they really do, but they can’t help it. It just means so much to them that you would go out of your way to do that!

♡ They’ll ask you to teach them how to make stuff like what you make, so that they can return the favor.

♡ Whether you agree or not, Chihiro’s riding the high for the rest of the week.

♡ They go to class the next day and wait so impatiently for someone to ask about the new charm on their school bag so they have an excuse to ramble about you.

♡ Another person who will keep your trinkets with them all the time.

Mondo Owada:

♡ What a coincidence! He loves making things for you, too!

♡ Only difference is that, while you love to make small trinkets, Mondo likes to make larger, wooden trinkets.

♡ It’s a match made in heaven, honestly. Biweekly gift exchanges.

♡ When you give your gifts to him, it’s kinda like watching a big dog trying to play with a much smaller animal.

♡ He’s so excited, and he knows he has to be gentle, but it’s so hard for him to contain himself! He’ll hold it so gingerly so as not to break it, but every other part of his body’s wiggling because of how happy he is.

♡ He admires your craftsmanship so much, and he loves being able to see all your little design quirks in the things you make for him.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru:

♡ He will straight up cry, and he does not care how many people look at him weird because of it.

♡ It was rare that Taka received gifts at all, never mind gifts that were so personal!

♡ That was, until he met you.

♡ Any gift that you make for him by hand will be treasured so dearly, but especially things that are related to his interests.

♡ You once made him a keychain in the form of a teeny tiny Kendo sword. He kissed you for a solid ten minutes because he was so deeply moved by your affection for him.

♡ He insists on repaying you in some way for everything you make him, though he doesn’t quite know how.

♡ He settles on: anything you need, you get.

Hifumi Yamada (platonic):

♡ The crowd goes WILD.

♡ Of all people, Hifumi can appreciate handmade gifts. He’s given so many of them before, after all.

♡ He loves your trinkets so much that he actually— and stay with me here cause this is a doozy— takes down his figurines and puts your crafts up instead.

♡ Your classmates are convinced you just triggered The End Times because of that but whatever.

♡ He shows them off just as proudly, too.

♡ Like: “Hey, Yamada, what’s all that on your bookshelf?” “I’m SO glad you asked!” *pulls up a 300 page PowerPoint essay.

♡ In return, you get any art you want. Free of charge. You lucky dog.

[treviso-nights]

✨ for all of the newcomers, welcome! in case you're interested, here's a quick list of all the fics i've written recently :) ✨

rookanis fics

two crows, one dagger - after lucanis gifts rook de riva a dagger, they spar, and he learns the sentimental meaning behind its new name

a lesson in electricity - this time, lucanis spars with mage!rook who is distrustful of him due to his reputation. they find common ground & flirt, ofc

by blood & thread - a longer one than the first two; lucanis stitches up crow!rook after a near-fatal battle. (suuuper angsty. takes place directly after ‘blood of arlathan')

poison vials & morning coffee - a short drabble/mini-fic about lucanis expressing his love for crow!rook (pronoun neutral) through acts of service and gift-giving!

solrook fics

how far thou art fallen from heaven - an on-going multi-chapter fic; when rook first ends up in the regret-prison with solas after a nightmare, he taunts her, and she responds in kind. one way or another, solas is going to realize: varric chose rook to stop him for a reason. what he isn’t prepared for is how his enemy makes him feel. has the dread wolf finally found someone to abandon his plight for? (spoiler alert: the answer is no.) a true enemies to lovers tale.

solavellan fics

what we leave behind - lavellan’s world first unravels when solas reveals the truth about her vallaslin. it’s been ten years, and still, she runs to him when the skies tear open again. bare-faced and broken, she pursues the one person she can’t stop loving, even as he destroys her. (angsty as hell, with a side of cosmic heartbreak. there is no happy ending here.)

✨so, yeah! follow if you're looking for more! :) ✨

[asarigg]

Character Design: Part 5

FEATHERS

Another detail I’d like to mention about his tattoo before moving on is that the peony tattoo was originally meant to be accompanied by leaves, but they changed this for the final design. Leaves make sense, they’re natural, but feathers?

Feathers alone seem to have no relevance in Japanese culture, but there are two relevant birds that have black plumage: cormorants and crows.

Cormorants are valued birds for their fish-hunting skills and were often trained to help fishermen. Therefore, they are a symbol of devotion and unceasing commitment to their master.

Crows are probably the first thing that comes to mind when we think of black feathers, and just like in other countries they can be associated with evil, but also with supernatural powers, and are considered messengers of the gods. It is commonly associated with fire and the sun, it is said that it was the only bird that can fly to the sun, and its feathers are black because they were marked by its rays.

They are often represented together with a white heron, like yin and yang, day and night, good and bad.

Within mythology we find Yatagarasu, a sacred crow that had three legs. Heaven, Earth and humanity. Yatagarasu is sent by a god (I think Amaterasu, but I’ve also read about Takami-musubi) to help humans, a symbol of guidance, of connection between the spiritual and physical world.

They were once associated with rebirth and rejuvenation, as they cleansed the land after a battle. Rebirth after a tragedy. It was believed they carried the souls of the deceased, similar to butterflies, to the next plane of existence. In art they often represent death, the passing of time. Apparently they’re also sparrows’ natural enemies.

In short, each element of this poisoned tattoo only seems to be mockery after mockery on Ryuuhou’s part, a representation of what he knows will happen. The similarity of the tribal to birds, the meaning of peonies, the seed syllable inside the bird on his arm, and now the feathers as an addition to Koujaku’s virtues or as a premonition of death and tragedy. Death and destruction are carved all over his body. (He’s terrified of it, and avoids it, but Sly seeks it)

HAIR

Now let’s move on to hair. Hair is a symbol of spiritual power in many cultures around the world. As we’ve seen before in the sutra it is associated with Buddha, and by extension it is also associated with Koujaku, who’s a hairstylist and dedicates his life to cutting and controlling hair.

In ancient Japan, hair was a gift from god, it has been identified as a special focus of spiritual power and personality. The longer the better, it’s like it remembers thoughts and emotions, our identity. For this reason there are various ways in which social status is tied to hair too. It’s also used to curse people. There is a hair kami at the Arashiyama Kamigami shrine if I’m not mistaken, and you can make an offering by cutting a lock of your hair. In Sumo, when a fighter retired, they would ceremonially cut it.

Hair has been used and incorporated into Buddha embroidery as a way of forging a link between the worshipper and the Buddha depicted. Locks of hair can be seen at the doors of the Izumo shrine, which specializes in marriage. There are also stories of women who let their hair down when they go to sleep and the hair turns into snakes, poisonous desire, repressed during the day. There are other folkloric practices and beliefs about women’s hair, for example ship captains carrying part of their wives’ or daughters’ hair on board as a protective talisman.

In some communities, it is believed that a shaman’s powers, which allow her to negotiate between the worlds of the living and the dead, were located in her long, loose hair, a sacred connection with the gods, the darker and the longer the better.

For Koujaku, Aoba’s hair is sacred, extremely valuable. He had wanted to cut it for years, we see how excited he is when he touches and kisses it, and when he is finally able to fulfill his dream he carefully keeps one of his locks wrapped in a piece of paper inside a paulownia wood box. For him, his hair is an amulet, it is good luck, it is extremely symbolic of who Aoba is (and who wouldn’t remember him as the dude with blue hair, one of the key features of his design, as well as the very peculiar characteristics that the developers gave it) and what he means to Koujaku.

The lock of Aoba’s hair is a direct connection to him, no matter how far away he is or how long it takes them to see each other again, he will always have this amulet with him. He is a devotee of Aoba, Koujaku adores him and loves him intensely, and it is not unusual to think that this devotion takes on an even religious aspect, as if Aoba was divine, a god.

In Tibetan Buddhism they paint Buddha’s hair blue.

Koujaku's hair is tied up like a miko's, with a cylinder or strap of white paper and red knot. They also use a miko styled paper for Aoba's hairstyle in an illustration and the figure.

Paulownia wood is associated with nobility, fertility, good fortune and happiness. Paulownia is a tree that was often planted when a girl was born. Wealthy families would plant up to three trees, and when the girl grew up and was time to get married, the family would cut down the tree and make a chest and other items out of the wood to give to her on her wedding day. The kimono was meant to be stored in good quality wood to preserve it, and this wood naturally repels insects. It’s also used for instruments.

Another detail about Koujaku’s hairstyle is that his hairpin looks like a shamisen.

Trying to protect his mother from his father and legal wife only caused her more pain, so instead he tried to do something else. She’s so happy about the gift, and the wishes of her son to help her fill her with joy, but she knows that’s impossible. He’s only a kid, so she just smiles, without being able to reply. Honestly, given that this was a gift he made to his mother to brighten her day, I wonder if it could be related to her tastes, especially considering that the most common are simple or with floral decoration. We don’t know almost anything about her, her name, appearance, what she liked to do or to dress like, what she taught Koujaku to raise him, etc…

So seeing this I wouldn’t be surprised if his mother actually played this instrument and maybe taught her son. The point is that this illustration exists.

A Tumblr user recently mentioned it on her post.

GOOD LUCK

Another piece of his design are these bracelets he wears on both hands. These bracelets are prayer beads, called Nenju or Juzu. Originally used in Buddhism to help with meditation by counting prayers, 108 beads are used representing the 108 earthly desires that one seeks to overcome in order to reach enlightenment, used to purify body and mind and express devotion to Buddha. They are used as protection as well. There are versions with fewer beads, 18, 27, 36 or 54, although there’s no fixed amount as many times it depends on the length and size of the beads, sometimes they carry a magatama. Women’s version usually has smaller beads and have more decorative colors, there are versions for children too. Beni’s necklace to me is just a kids version Koujaku bought for him to be honest…

Formal prayer beads also vary their appearance depending on the sect and it would be preferred that the person you marry belongs to the same sect. The tassels can also vary their shape. When these beads are damaged or can no longer serve their purpose, they are ritually burned on an altar where they are thanked for their service along with other amulets and get destroyed. Many people use them in funerals since most are held by Buddhists.

The ones that Koujaku wears in the shape of a bracelet are short, with two hanging tassels, the ones he’s using are 頭付房, I’m not sure how this translates but seems something like tassel with head/head tassel. Made to be more comfortable to carry anywhere, taking up less space or in a casual fashion. I like thinking he has formal Buddhist prayer beads kept somewhere for when he wants to pray for the people he knows.

The knot on his neck and the one in the decoration of his hair is a kiku knot, chrysanthemum knot, with two tassels hanging too. It’s also the type Shiroba/Sly uses in the bad ending. We’ve already seen what the chrysanthemum means. This knot is theorized to be a variation of a Buddhist knot, the endless knot, as a representation of Buddha’s infinite wisdom. In Tibetan Buddhism it symbolises Samsara, a never ending cycle. There are a few other interpretations.

Knots with tassels like this (総角房) would also be used in samurai helmets as a good luck charm, and it’s the type he has on his sword, not the chrysanthemum one.

We don’t really see or hear about Koujaku performing any religious practices during the story, except attending the festivals that everyone else goes to out of custom rather than a religious devotion. But I wouldn’t find it strange if he did it in the privacy of his home to try to attract luck in his life and try to separate himself from the beast, to be a good person and pray for his mother. After all, cultural and religious references are everywhere, and he himself wonders about the existence of souls, implying a much more spiritual understanding of life on his part.

Red is the first thing that catches your eye when you look at his design, and it’s a very important color in shintoism and is used in shrines everywhere, in clothes, buildings, torii gates, amulets, etc. It’s a color related to luck, the sacred, that coexists in balance with white. It’s love and passion, and it’s evil and blood. These dualities are present everywhere, both in his design and in his story.

[batwritings]

Sorry if im requesting too much, im just obsessed with your works jehdhdvudvsudvsj

How about dragon!Price with a crow!reader? I’ve seen a lot of people making him a dragon, and crows tend to have the same shiny-hoarding thing going on, so it’s kind of a match made in heaven. Maybe things really kick off when Price’s shedding his scales while our crow reader is getting a lot of nesting urges, causing the reader to take a couple of the shiny scales for her nest. Eventually, when her heat arrives, she realizes her mistake. Her nest smells so much like Price, it’s unbearable.

Sure, they had always been pretty close, due to him being her captain and their tendencies to gift each other shiny items, but this was a bit different. At some point, Price goes ahead and checks on his lovely crow friend. While he’s expecting to just stop by to see how she’s incorporated his scales into the inner workings of her nest, he ends up staying for longer than anticipated..

-Hybrid

Okay but this is such a cute concept. Putting the horny brain aside, I can just see you and Price exchanging or comparing shiny stuff that you found on missions or on shore leave at least once a week. Ugh, too cute! Enjoy!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Price had always had this sort of deal as it were. Your respective species both had an affinity for shiny objects, your captain being a dragon and hording the stuff and you as a crow, just doing it because...well, you could! It was always intriguing to see the different things the both of you would bring to the table after a long away mission.

You weren't entirely sure when you started doing it, but it took a little longer than you would like to realize the consequences to your actions. See, your dear captain had to shed his scales every once in again, their beautiful bronze catching in the light that really sparked a fondness to your one-track crow brain. And with your nest coming together a little disappointingly, you figured they'd be an excellent addition. Not like Price would miss them, he still had plenty to go around.

Yet as your heat grew closer and closer, you couldn't help but get your mind off the familiar and comforting smell of cigars and gunpowder. It was only when you woke up one more, your body deep within your mating cycle that you realized it. You needed your Captain, and you needed him now.

Thankfully for you, from being around you so frequently, Price seemed to be very well aware of when something wasn't quite right with you. Any time you had seemed remotely off, it was as if your captain had a bit of a sixth sense. So you shouldn't have been surprised to hear the couple solid knocks on your barrack door before it opened with a quiet squeak.

"Y/N? You alright?" the man called, voice low in case he was disturbing you. Your whine in response did nothing to assuage his fears, causing the dragon to burst in a little further. "Hey now what's--"

The man stopped in his tracks when he caught onto your scent. "You've started your heat," he mumbled, more to himself than to you, who was painfully aware. "Oh love, why didn't you say something?" He's quick to approach your nest, bright eyes flicking between you and the mess of blankets, pillows, and other shiny things including his scales.

"John...!~" You whimper, wings fluttering in irritation as you push yourself up onto your knees. Price takes the hint, stepping gingerly into your nest, making himself a spot behind you. He covers you, bringing your hips back so they align with his. His wings create a sort of barrier, as if he was trying to shield you from the world.

"I've got you sweetheart, I've got you," the dragon coos, helping your deft hands to slip down your sleep shorts and underwear. The heady scent that follows from your sex being on display earns a low growl as his member twitches eagerly beneath grey sweats. He's quick to pull his cock free, rubbing it along your cunt to soak it in your slick.

"Sing for me love," Price huffs, slowly sliding inside you. You moan so beautifully for him, reveling in the lovely way he fills and stretches you, the way his claws prick at your skin as they hold you in place so as not to hurt you with rushing the penetration. All the while, your captain is littering you in praise, breathing heavier now as he bottoms out inside you.

It doesn't take more than a few desperate chirps and coos from you to urge him to fuck you in earnest. To say the Brit had been wanting this for some time now would be a great understatement. So to be able to finally have you, take you, claim you, made this so much more tempting.

His hips stutter to a halt when you finally reach your climax, claws trailing over the spot where your gorgeous ebony wings meet your shoulders. You shudder and moan under Price's ministrations, trilling when you feel his claws against your skin and feathers. "Feeling better love?" The dragon rumbles, kissing sweetly at the back of your neck.

You nod breathlessly, hand reaching back to rub where you could of his skin in thanks. "How'd you know to find me here?" You ask, still a little amazed at this ability your captain had. The man only chuckles lowly.

"Well I was wondering where my scales had been disappearing to."

[illubean]

Can I get a hisokas sister x killua? Like hisokas sister is affectionate but not in a creepy way she just want to show killua how much she likes him😔(mainly in gifts and unexpected hugs, cheek kisses) you can do what you want with this request.🫶🏼have a good day! I love your blogs btw!! :))) it’s nice to see some hxh blogs😭

Killua with HisokasSister!reader

Characters: Killua Zoldyck Type: Fluff, Headcanons, Fem!reader

ok I know my rules say I won't write romantically for Killua or Gon but this one is kinda in a grey area and the request was cute soooo up to interpretation even though it's intended to be mostly platonic >.< also im going to try and be nice as a certified Hisoka hater LMAO

Warnings: Hisoka.

being Hisoka's little sister was...interesting

he's literally insane a lil cray but he's all you got and you wouldn't trade him for the world

you met Killua at the hunter exam and became part of the little friend group he had going because you were one of the only other kids there

and over your time there you ended up getting attached to him

you followed him around all the time and latched yourself to his side whenever you could

and poor boy was conflicted

it was kind of annoying but also? nice at the same time???

so yeah despite him looking so annoyed at you all the time he doesn't actually try stopping you from showing him affection

he has no clue what to do with all the random stuff you give him especially since they're pretty useless sometimes...

and he's very confused on where you find this stuff and why you even thought of giving it to him

like where tf did you find a bird skull? and how did you manage to find so many pieces of sea glass??????

you're like a crow with attachment issues or something

it's not until after the exam and you follow him and Gon to heaven's arena that he finds out you're related to Hisoka

and hes like HAH!?!?

when you all made it to the 200th floor the boys were literally shaking in their boots when they got closer to Hisoka

and when you ran up to him and hugged him like it was nothing? ARE YOU CRAZY!?

after his talking and whatever and Wing coming to get you guys Hisoka's like sooo are you coming with me or what

and you're like nah I wanna stay with Killua

and hes like "Oh my, seem's like someone's infatuated with the Zoldyck boy. Don't worry, he's not the one I'm interested in"

and Killua is like WTFFFF

HOW IS SOMEONE SO WEIRD AND SCARY RELATED TO YOU

he's more weary around you now and a lot more hesitant to ever push you away

he already liked and admired you as a person but now there is an added fear factor

we all know Illumi doesn't like Killua having friends

but if it's you? ...well there's not much you can really do

he doesn't mind all that much because your brother is a valuable ally and you've probably got potential too

but yeah overall Killua just accepts your affection without any questions partially because he is afraid

[rottenpumpkin13]

Making AGSZC go to an amusement park together would be a spectacular view

Things That Happen At The Amusement Park

Genesis is excited to ride the zipper again, a ride notorious for being hard to handle. Except it's a two-person ride and Angeal refuses to go with him, citing that the last time he went on it, he met the goddess. Sephiroth unwisely offers to go with him. *Sephiroth and Genesis are strapped in before the ride starts* Sephiroth: You said this is a safe, ferris-wheel-type ride, correct? Genesis, lying: Absolutely. Sephiroth: Alright. I'm sure it's not so bad. After all, we're SOLDIER. We're trained to handle everything. *3 minutes into the ride, when they're being violently tossed around* Sephiroth: GENESIS YOU SON OF A BITCH Genesis: YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER WITH THAT MOUTH? Sephiroth: I'M ABOUT TO, WHEN I REUNITE WITH HER IN TWO MINUTES.

Zack finds a stand that sells deep-fried butter wrapped in bacon dipped in cheese, thinks he found heaven, and eats 13 before he starts looking green and Angeal confiscates it from him.

Angeal wants Cloud and Zack to take pictures with some theme park characters, so he ushers the boys towards them and coordinates a cute pose. Angeal: There, now smile—Zack stop crying, Kenny Crow can't hurt you. Zack, sobbing with Kenny Crow's arm gripped tightly around him: HELP

The boys meet up again to go on the drop ride together. What they don't tell you before you go on the ride, is that the more it creeps up to the sky, the more you're inclined to believe that you will die, so start confessing to everything. *Right before the drop* Sephiroth: Gentlemen, it has been an honor serving alongside you. Genesis, scared: STOP SAYING THAT! WE'RE NOT GONNA DIE! Zack: Okay! Cloud, remember that slice of pizza you were saving in the fridge? I ate it, man! I'm sorry! Sephiroth: There will be no pizza in heaven. Genesis, sobbing: STOP IT! Cloud: It's okay! Remember your favorite mug that mysteriously broke? That was me! Sephiroth: Creature comforts such as colorful mugs will not be available after death. Genesis, screaming: HELP

They lose Sephiroth in the park and split up trying to find him. It turns out Sephiroth got distracted by one of those carnival booth games where you win prizes if you can shoot at the targets. It's supposed to be rigged, but somehow Sephiroth shot all of them. *They finally locate Sephiroth* Zack: Thank GOD—What the heck is that?? *Sephiroth is holding a giant stuffed moogle* Sephiroth: The fruits of my labor.

Angeal ends up tying a balloon to Sephiroth's wrist. This is non-negotiable and Sephiroth now has to walk around the park with a shame balloon shaped like a dragon.

They visit a haunted house. Cloud: I'm not sure about this….It looks kinda dangerous. Zack: Don't be ridiculous, Cloud. What could be dangerous about some dumb kiddy haunted house that's filled with a bunch of actors in costumes? *10 minutes later* *All five of them run out screaming, being chased by an evil clown with a chainsaw* Genesis: SEPHIROTH RUN! Sephiroth: I'm not bothered by the evil clown. If anything he reminds me of you before you have your morning coffee.

Genesis, offended, takes a swing at Sephiroth. Angeal, Zack and Cloud come back for them and find the evil clown separating the two, who are fighting.

Then they go on a roller coaster. It's all fun and games until the carts get stuck at the very top right before the drop. Genesis gets bored very easily and starts reciting Loveless. Angeal did not know rage until he was in this situation. *Zack starts crying because he can't take it anymore* Genesis: Aww, Puppy? Have I moved you to tears? I'll start over from the top. When the war of the beats brings about the world's end…." *Zack screams and sobs harder*

They visit the gift shop to buy souvenirs. Angeal walks out with shot glasses, Genesis with an expensive notebook, and Zack and Cloud with more stuffed animals and figurines they can carry.

The only thing that appeals to Sephiroth is a set of 5 keychains, each shaped like puzzle pieces that connect to each other.

[ddarker-dreams]

the yan hxh character's favorite types of styles on you.

(warning for some not SFW implications/reader described as fem)

chrollo loves you in classy, elegant, yet formfitting outfits that highlight the silhouette of your body. slim blazers, short pencil skirts, sheer tights, pumps. will be smiling happily to himself if you struggle with heels since you're forced to cling to him, or trip. purposefully gets outfits that are difficult for you to put on by yourself (like having a zipper in the back) so you must begrudgingly call upon him for assistance.

pretends he 'forgot' to include some pants or shorts as potential options but it was 100% intentional. don't believe his lies. he loves anything that reveals your collarbones but not if you're going out. only he gets to see them, no one else. he mostly goes for neutral colors with a heavy emphasis on black, ivory, beige, navy, and sometimes burgundy if he's feeling a bit wild.

as far as accessories go, he favors dangling earrings and choker-length necklaces. you don't get to wear watches anymore because when he last gifted you one, you kept checking it every time he started talking, and it kinda hurt his feelings. he is a fan of you putting your hair up because he loves admiring the muscles of your neck and it grants him easier access for kissing.

(phinks, feitan, machi and paku under the cut)

phinks originally gives you some t-shirts and sweatpants because hell if he knows how to dress a woman. he doesn't want you thinking he's some pervert that kidnapped you purely for sexual gratification — no, there's a deeper connection he's trying to foster with you here. that being said... if he could have it his way, his biggest fantasy is having you wear those tennis outfits. preferably with white or pink colors. he just thinks you'd look really cute. the short, pleated skirt brushing against your thighs, tight polo shirt, a pair of high top tennis shoes; he'd be in heaven. phinks will want to scoop you up and twirl you around or some other romantic-sounding shit.

doesn't really have any preferences when it comes to accessories. his biggest thing is in the colder seasons, seeing you wrapped up in a scarf is super endearing. it makes his heart almost beat out of his chest. jewelry isn't a big deal to him. he'll gift you a fair amount because he figures Woman = Want Shiny Thing (as if you're a crow), but it doesn't do much for him visually. aside from stud earrings with simple designs, like a flower or moon. he thinks that's pretty cute.

feitan doesn't think about fashion much. he literally wears the same thing every day and only washes his bloodstained jacket if you ask nicely (aka plead). he gets you some long shirts and calls it a day. when you ask if you can have shorts or anything similar to that, he silently stares at you. unlike chrollo, it really didn't occur to him. if he's in a good mood he'll pick up what you asked for. probably gets an uncomfortable material or the wrong size but it isn't out of spite, he genuinely has no idea what he's doing.

he discovers by accident that the sight of you in a sheer nightgown is especially appealing. other than that, the only preference he's aware of is seeing you in light colors. it gives you this innocent glow that he finds aesthetically pleasing. the way it further highlights how different you are — pure (by his standards, at least), virtuous — really does something for him. he has a weird obsession with your wrists so he's gotten you a few silver link bracelets. that's the most you get to accessorize should you ever choose to wear them.

machi lets you wear whatever you want and listens to your clothes requests, because she's too embarrassed to admit what she'd find you cute in. no one could get the information out of her, even if it came down to torture. so... what she wants more than anything (drumroll please)... is to see you wearing one of those short overall outfits over a plain shirt. she'd be staring at you as if you were the mona lisa. she has no idea why the concept entices her as much as it does. all she knows is that you'd look fucking adorable and she'd commit multiple crimes for you.

she likes you in denim, any color really. jean shorts, ripped jeans, skinny jeans, flared jeans, wide jeans, high waist, low waist; she's all about it. oversized tops are a big favorite as well. extra points if the sleeves are too long and cover most of your hand. you think she's glaring at you but in reality she's trying so hard to keep her fraying mind in check.

pakunoda has you looking runway ready whenever she takes you out. the woman did research. a lot of what you wear is tailored specifically to your complexion, body type, facial structure, etc. she enjoys high fashion and has procured pieces made by the biggest names. most of what's in your closet is either wool, pure cotton, or silk. it looks and feels luxurious. she favors seeing you in jumpsuits or maxi-length dresses. coordinating outfits is a favorite of hers, she has color theory down and you both look stunning together. around the house (or wherever she's keeping you), you're free to dress as you please. you both have matching house slippers and robes.

accessories will depend on the season, but you can expect to be wearing sleek sunglasses and the occasional hat. for jewelry, she goes for her birthstone, diamonds, and gold. nothing too ostentatious though. she keeps it classy. while she'd love to see you in stilettos, if you can't walk in them well, she'll go for flat pumps instead.

[icarus-n-flames]

So I’m just sitting trying to will my brain quiet and scrolling twitter when an idea occurred to me all because of these little cat shaped bottles.

The idea was that there is a scenario where the DBDA need a very rare ingredient for a spell. Cat tears. That’s not exactly something you can find and you can’t just make a cat give you their tears no matter how desperate you are. Ofc Edwin is going to get a bottle carefully packed in a nice box delivered to him by the Ghost Post from none other than Cat King.

Then there is the question of WHY he would need Thomas’ tears so I thought of something horrible.

Charles for all his charm sometimes does not say the right thing to critters when he first meets them. “Zip it crow” “Piss off cat” so he probably said the wrong thing to idk a tanuki or kitsune and got himself a fun little withering curse to match his withering words.

They think nothing of it at first because you think a withering curse would be something VISIBLE. That is until Charles starts to seemingly become absent minded. It’s little things at first like forgetting where he placed his favorite mixed tape but Edwin gives him a look because that broke a few weeks ago unfortunately when the blasted cassette player had decided to devour it. He’s misplacing things more and more. Then he walks past the case board one day and points to a case that he has absolutely no recollection of and NOW Edwin is worried.

They do their research and discover the withering curse will slowly drain his memories written on his soul since he is not alive for a body to wither until he is nothing but a faded suggestion of an expressionless boy aimlessly wandering the world.

They can’t find the creature that Charles offended to beg for leniency so they start researching possible alternatives.

It takes so very long because every thing they find says there is no cure for the curse save for the forgiveness of the creature who cursed him so Charles forgets more and more til he’s even forgetting Crystal.

Edwin has to remind him every morning, they tried having Charles read it in his own writing but it just didn’t have the same effect as Edwin calmly explaining, detailing the events in the same voice he used the first night they met. Oddly enough, Edwin never has to tell Charles he’s in love with him. He remembers, though he doesn’t remember how he knows.

“Guess I just always knew you loved me, Edwin. It’s not a memory I could lose, yeh?”

It’s painful, just a bit, but also a comfort.

Then they FINALLY find the cure. It requires so many ingredients, it takes them so long to track them down until they only have “Cats tears” left. Of course Mick doesn’t have it though he says he’ll keep an eye out and Edwin is looking everywhere.

Then like a gift from the heavens or maybe just from a Cat King who might have a crush on him, they secure the tears FINALLY but not before Charles finally forgets that Edwin loved him.

Charles is trying his level best to help through the spell, trying to talk Edwin through his obvious discomforts and sadness when he thinks it’s been but a few days since he was dying in an attic back at school. They need to hurry, Edwin owes it to him to get him out of this but Charles is stopping his frantic hands, slowing him and telling him to just take a BREAK. He can fix him right up in 30 minutes.

“Charles why are you doing this? This is important I can not just “take a break” until this blasted curse is gone.” He’s so wrung out and in his overwhelming worry he thinks Charles isn’t taking this seriously because he hasn’t had 35 years to know when to calm himself. He’s only a few days from that attic and from being a 16 year old boy who died too young.

Charles gives him a pained little look, taking the vial out of Edwin’s hand and sitting it down before grasping his hands tightly in his.

“Because I’m in love with you, I think. So bloody worried about me you just never think about yourself do you?” Because Charles is thinking of a boy who escaped from hell and risked it all to talk him through it all, to be there when the light came so he wasn’t scared. The boy who was already terrified of being caught but still caved under Charles’ smile and let him tag along. He taught Charles the ghost rules and how to keep from falling through the floor or how to touch the world around him without stuttering through it in ways he never even knew how to when he was alive.

He might not remember anything else about the last 35 years they spent together but he knew he loved Edwin Payne and had since he’d died. It was terrifying because he had no idea if Edwin could love him right then, maybe 35 years really only got them friendship.

The horrifying comedy of it all is not lost on Edwin that it took Charles losing 35 years of their life together and but a memory of a week together for him to say what Edwin was certain would take a century if even so soon.

Of course they’re going to get him fixed right up but I just really loved the thought of Charles forgetting Edwin’s love eventually but most certainly not forgetting his own that is so much louder now that there isn’t the weight of 35 years and the fear of that crumbling in his hands. There is just a boy trying his hardest to make Charles whole again with everything he is and he needs to say it before he forgets Edwin entirely.

[hinasho]

I rewatched The Crow 2024 and it really is a romance. Like love is it’s core. Shelly is the heart of the story because she is Eric’s heart. There is no Crow without her. There is no justice without love.

Everything Eric does is because of or for Shelly. He breaks out of the rehab facility for Shelly. He turns his thoughts into lyrics for Shelly. He dies because of Shelly. He’s given the chance to return because of his love for Shelly. Love turns into his armor and he becomes unkillable for Shelly. He sees Shelly everywhere he looks, as memories, as visions, as a figure in the stands. Shelly is EVERYWHERE in ALL THINGS because their love is all-consuming. Eric sacrifices heaven, hell, every kind of life and afterlife all for SHELLY.

The story feels like flowers plucked from the ground to gift as a bouquet. Death for love. It’s one big romantic gesture that impacts all the worlds and people around them.

The entire movie can be summed up as: “I will live for you. I will die for you. I will kill for you. And I will leave you. All because I love you.”

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! Anything you recommend involving Angel or Demon courting? I love a good “old fashioned courting” fic

Hello. We have some angelic and demonic courting fics here. And you may also be interested in our #wooing and #nesting tags, as these fics will somewhat similar. Here are some more fics featuring courting rituals...

Falling Free by Sodium_Azide (T)

With nothing holding them apart anymore, Aziraphale takes the first steps and first offerings in making things formal between himself and his demon. His Crowley deserves to be wooed the very, very old-fashioned way.

One More Chance by greygerbil (E)

Aziraphale is painfully aware that he may have rebuffed Crowley one time too many to still hope there will be anything else between them than friendship and the occasional tryst. Still, he was never one to give up easily.

Crowley's attempts at courtship (5+1) by p0psicle_ashtray (M)

The year is 1813, Crowley is currently in a gentlemen's club in Scotland when he runs into a familiar angel, they talk and Crowley realizes that he must do whatever it takes to make Aziraphale fall in love with him. He was going to court the pants right off him.

I slithered here from Eden, just to sit outside your door by doodlegirll (T)

Courting, in heaven, was all about pageantry. Crowley had been an angel, once. He remembered the pomp and circumstance of it all, how his fellow angels would damn near lose their minds trying to make sure that every little thing was absolutely perfect, to the letter. It had all seemed so silly back then, back when Crowley had gone by a different name and had woven galaxies and stars into nebulas across the cosmos. He’d rolled his eyes at it all, but he’d always secretly wondered what it would be like, to find someone that made all that fuss seem worth it. That was before the Fall, and the Garden, and a wall where a swordless angel asked his first question and shielded a demon from the rain. Crowley knew that if he was going to win the Principality’s heart, he was going to have to do it the old fashioned way.

The Courting Habits of Doves and Crows by vaguelydemonic (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley's tendencies to beat around the bush finally start coming to an end. They've been at their careful back and forth for millennia, but when notorious Gift Giver Crowley receives a present from Aziraphale, the ball truly gets rolling and the limits of how oblivious a pair of immortals can be are tested.

Pining and Posturing by Kittyknowsthings (T)

When Gabriel proposes an angelic bond to Aziraphale and won't take no for an answer, Crowley challenges him to a competitive courtship instead - and while Heaven considers courtships a mostly private matter, Hell's delegation to the Ineffable Parley certainly isn't going to politely ignore an Archangel walking into the negotiation room bearing an unauthorized demonic geas.

- Mod D

[cloudss-space]

A day to remember

( killer chat ) wedding day ronin x reader ... angst ...

trigger warning:

gore

The sky was a smear of bruised red and deep violet, the horizon bleeding into the earth as if the heavens themselves had cracked open. The field of spider lilies stretched endlessly before you, their crimson heads swaying in a silent, hypnotic rhythm, like a thousand whispered prayers to gods long forgotten. You had come here by instinct, drawn to the place where life and death seemed to tangle, where beauty thrived on the precipice of decay.

Ronin stood in the centre of the field, his dark figure stark against the sea of crimson. He was waiting, as he always seemed to be, his presence magnetic yet unnerving, like the pull of gravity before a fall. The wind caught in his hair, the strands wild and black as a crow's wing, framing his face in shadows that moved with unnatural grace. His eyes met yours, sharp and glinting with a light that didn't belong to the dying sun.

You moved toward him, your steps hesitant at first, as though crossing a threshold into another world. The air thickened with each stride, heavy with the scent of iron and something sweetly rotten, as though the flowers themselves were bleeding beneath your feet. It was a beautiful kind of wrongness, a paradox you couldn't resist, just like him.

When you were close enough to see the sharp curve of his jaw and the smudge of dirt on his cheek, you stopped. He tilted his head, a predatory motion, the corner of his mouth curving into a smile that promised both tenderness and ruin. In his hands, he cradled something wrapped in linen: the white fabric stained dark, the edges fraying as if it had been torn from something larger, more violent.

He took a step closer, and you could see his boots crushing the spider lilies beneath them, the petals breaking apart like bloodstains against the black leather. He was unstoppable, a force of nature, and he owned this moment.

"I have something for you," he said, his voice low and rough, a sound that enveloped you like smoke. He unfolded the linen slowly, deliberately, revealing what lay within. Your breath hitched, the sight arresting in its horror and grotesque beauty.

A heart.

It was heavy in his hands, its surface slick and glistening, veins still pulsing faintly as if defying the reality of its removal. Blood dripped from its edges, staining the white linen and then the ground below, mingling with the crushed petals. The sight was visceral, primal, a gift torn from life itself, and yet it didn't repulse you. It mesmerised you, much like the man holding it.

"For you," he murmured, his tone soft and reverent, as though he were offering up a piece of himself. Perhaps he was. His hands trembled, just barely, betraying the emotion he rarely let surface. "Because you are the only one who could hold it without breaking it further."

You didn't reach for it immediately. Instead, you stared at him, searching his face for some hint of cruelty, of mockery. But there was none. His expression was raw, unadorned, and unguarded. This was no joke, no twisted game. It was a declaration, a vow.

Your hands lifted instinctively, trembling as they approached the bloodied offering. When your fingers brushed against the slick surface, warm and alive, Ronin's breath caught, his chest rising sharply. His gaze never left yours, as if he were committing every second of this moment to memory.

"You always said I had no heart," he said, his voice breaking slightly, a thread of vulnerability woven into the words. "Maybe you're right. But if there's anything left of me worth giving, it's this."

The weight of the heart in your hands felt heavier than expected, the blood seeping between your fingers, warm and thick. Yet, holding it felt like claiming something ancient, something sacred. The spider lilies seemed to lean toward you, their petals trembling as though in witness.

Ronin stepped closer, his hand lifting to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was careful despite the blood smearing your skin. His eyes softened, the sharpness dulling into something warm, something achingly human. "I would give you everything," he said. "I would give you everything, even the parts of me that I don't deserve to keep."

The field held its breath, the world narrowing until you and he were alone, the bloody heart between you a bond forged in the fire of something neither of you could name. You felt tears prickling your eyes, not from sadness, but from the sheer weight of his offering, his love, his raw, unfiltered truth.

"Ronin," you breathed, his name a prayer, a promise, a plea. He leaned down, his forehead pressing gently against yours, his breath warm and steady, grounding you.

"Don't say anything," he said, his voice barely audible, trembling with restraint. "Just tell me you'll stay. That you'll take me, broken as I am."

You knew the answer without even thinking about it. It was already etched into your bones, carved into your soul by the way he had always seen you, always chosen you, even in his ruin. "I'll stay," you declared, the words a vow that spilled from your lips like blood from the heart you still held.

His eyes closed, his exhale shuddered, and you felt the tension bleed from him, the hard edges softening entirely. He took the heart from your hands, carefully and reverently, and placed it on the ground between the lilies, as if offering it back to the earth from which all life and death stemmed.

Then he turned back to you, his hands now free, and pulled you into his arms. The scent of blood and crushed flowers wrapped around you, but it was his warmth, his solidity, that anchored you. You pressed your face against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear a comfort that no words could match.

In that field of spider lilies, under the fractured sky, the two of you stood entwined, your love forged in blood and beauty, in the spaces between life and death. You knew then that nothing, not even the weight of the world, could tear you apart.

The days have passed in a haze of preparation, a feverish yet steady march toward the moment where vows will bind your life to Ronin's in a way deeper than blood. The air itself feels different; charged with anticipation and something heavier, something ancient, as if the world understands the gravity of what you're about to promise.

The house is quiet this morning, but not still. You have been awake for hours, moving between tasks with a focus that borders on obsession. Your hands are smeared with paint, or perhaps it's dried blood from the bouquet of roses you've been trimming, their thorns biting into your fingers like tiny promises of pain. It suits the occasion. Love has always been sharp.

A dress—or suit, or something neither—hangs on the doorframe, catching the soft, pale light that filters through the window. It's simple yet striking, a reflection of you in fabric and thread. Ronin hasn't seen it yet; he'd insisted on tradition, on the sanctity of first looks being reserved for the altar. You laughed at his insistence, but there was something endearing about his stubbornness, the way his hard edges softened in the name of sentiment.

The flowers were the hardest part. Ronin wanted spider lilies, the kind that bloomed in that strange and sacred field where he first laid his heart bare to you. You returned there together, plucking the blood-red petals with reverence, your hands brushing as you worked in tandem. Now, the lilies rest in glass jars on every surface, their fiery hue setting the room ablaze with colour.

On the table before you lies a small pile of invitations you never sent. They are like ghosts of what could have been, their edges curled slightly from neglect. Neither of you has many people to invite. You told Ronin it didn't matter, that the ceremony was for the two of you alone. He nodded, his eyes shadowed but warm, and the invitations remained unfinished.

The rings rest in a carved wooden box, their metallic sheen dull in the dim light. Ronin crafted them himself, his hands working tirelessly at his workbench for weeks. You remember the way he showed them to you, his expression a mixture of pride and uncertainty, the metal still warm from his touch. "I wanted them to be ours," he'd said, his voice low and rough. "Not something anyone else could give you."

You catch sight of your reflection in the window. It's faint and ghostly. There are smudges of ash on your cheek, remnants of the incense you burned earlier. The scent of incense still lingers in the air, thick and heady, mingling with the metallic tang of the lilies and the faint trace of oil from Ronin's workbench.

He's at the shop today, fixing engines as though the world isn't about to shift beneath your feet. You imagine him there, his hands blackened with grease, his jaw set in that familiar way that tells you he's deep in thought. He has been quieter these past few days, his silences stretching longer, but not out of reluctance. His silence is like the stillness before a storm, charged with meaning he hasn't yet found the words to express.

The knife you've been using to trim the flowers rests on the counter, its blade glinting in the light. There's a beauty in its sharpness, its precision, how it transforms chaos into purpose. You think of Ronin's hands, how they are both capable of destruction and creation, how they hold you with a gentleness that belies their strength.

The evening creeps in, painting the walls with shadows. You light another candle, the flame dancing against the encroaching darkness. The preparations are almost finished, but you feel a restless longing for the man who will soon stand beside you at the altar. You wonder if he feels it too, this quiet desperation to fast-forward time, to arrive at the moment when everything will finally, irrevocably change.

You glance at the letters again, your fingers running over the uneven script of his name on the envelope you'll never send. Your heart tightens as you feel the weight of what's to come pressing against your ribs. This isn't fear. It's a recognition of the enormity of what you're about to do.

The field of spider lilies flashes in your mind: vivid and raw. You see his figure there, dark and imposing, holding out his bloody offering with trembling hands. That moment feels like a lifetime ago, yet it's the thread that ties you to this one, the unbreakable line that brought you here.

The house feels smaller now, too quiet. You reach for the bouquet, its petals soft and fragile, a stark contrast to the sharpness of the thorns. You can picture Ronin's face when he sees them at the altar, his eyes softening, his mouth curving into that rare, unguarded smile that you live for.

A knock at the door abruptly interrupts the silence. You open the door to find Ronin there. His hands are streaked with grease, his hair is dishevelled and his eyes are heavy but warm. He looks at you like you're the only thing in the world, his gaze lingering on the flowers in your hands before returning to your face.

"I thought I'd stop by," he says, his voice low and gravelly. "Make sure you're not doing too much."

You smile, stepping aside to let him in. He moves with the quiet confidence of someone who knows he belongs, his presence filling the room like the tide returning to shore. He glances at the spider lilies, the rings, the unfinished letters, and you see the tension in his shoulders ease.

He pulls you into his arms without a word, his embrace firm and grounding. You press your face against his chest, breathing in the scent of oil and smoke and something indefinably him. His heart beats steadily beneath your cheek, a quiet rhythm that anchors you.

"Are you ready for this?" he asks, his voice lowered to a whisper against your hair.

You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your hands resting lightly on his chest. "With you?" you say, your voice steady despite the chaos in your heart. "Always."

He smiles, rare and unguarded, lighting up the shadows. In that moment, you know that no matter what lies ahead, you will face it together, bound by the sharpness of your love, the thorns and the petals intertwined.

The morning arrives in a surreal stillness, the air heavy and the light soft. The world is holding its breath for what's to come. You wake before dawn, your nerves tingling with anticipation. The small room has a strong scent of spider lilies and wood smoke, which is both grounding and disorienting. You look in the mirror. Your face is pale but steady, your eyes brighter than they should be.

Only a few are coming today—just the people who have wandered too close to the edges of your lives and found themselves drawn in. Friends is too simple a word for them. They are witnesses, chosen not for who they are but for their silence, their willingness to watch without questioning. They know better than to pry.

The ceremony is in the same field of spider lilies where Ronin gave you his heart – or what remained of it. The flowers look different today, darker somehow, their red petals nearly black under the overcast sky. The clouds above churn sluggishly, like a storm too tired to break. You arrive alone, your outfit simple but striking, chosen not for its beauty but for its weight, its presence.

Ronin is already there, standing at the makeshift altar. His figure is sharp against the sea of crimson; he is poised to cut through the air with his blade. Dressed in black, his silhouette almost blends into the shadows, except for the pale scar that runs across his jaw, a reminder of battles fought and survived. His eyes meet yours as you approach, and in them is that same mixture of softness and menace, the tenderness that exists only for you and the ferocity that would raze the earth in your name.

The officiant speaks, its words low and steady, but you barely hear them. Your eyes are on Ronin: his hands, scarred and calloused, twitching at his sides as if eager to reach for you; his breath, slow and controlled, but shallow enough to betray the storm beneath his ribs. His lips curve into a ghost of a smile as he holds your gaze, and the world around you fades into a blur of red and shadow.

When it's time to speak your vows, your voice trembles only slightly. The words you've chosen are simple but deliberate, each one a thread binding you to him. Ronin listens intently, his head tilted slightly, his expression unreadable save for the flicker of something ancient and raw in his eyes.

When it's his turn, his voice is rough, weighted with emotion he rarely shows. "You are the only thing that matters," he says, his words slow and deliberate. "The only thing that's ever mattered. I will give you everything I am, even the parts of me that are broken."

His hand reaches out, fingers brushing against yours, and for a moment, everything feels fragile and perfect, like glass balanced on the edge of a blade. You notice the others, the witnesses, who have remained silent but uneasy.

Then he moves.

It happens in a blink, faster than thought. His hand pierces your chest, his fingers slicing through fabric and flesh with the precision of a blade. The pain is immediate, searing, but it's eclipsed by the shock, the surrealness of watching his hand buried in you up to the wrist.

Your breath catches, your vision blurs, but you don't fall. His grip is firm, holding you upright even as your blood paints the front of your outfit in violent streaks of crimson. The metallic scent of blood fills the air, mingling with the spider lilies, their petals trembling as if in witness to this macabre act of devotion.

Ronin's eyes are fixed on yours. They are wide and burning with something indescribable – love, madness, reverence, all tangled together. His expression is raw, his usual hard exterior shattered, leaving only the vulnerability he shows only to you.

"You gave me yours," he whispers, his voice trembling. "Now it's my turn."

His hand withdraws slowly, and in it, cradled delicately as if it's the most precious thing in the world, is your heart. It's still beating, the rhythm weak but steady, its surface slick with blood that drips onto the ground below. The sight is grotesque, horrifying—and yet, there's a strange beauty in it, a reverence that makes your breath hitch despite the agony.

Ronin kneels, lowering your heart to the ground as though offering it to the lilies themselves. He rises, his bloodied hand reaching to cup your face, his touch impossibly gentle. You're swaying, on the verge of collapse, but he steadies you, his other arm firmly around your waist, holding you upright.

"You'll live," he says firmly, a promise and a command. "I'll make sure of it."

The crowd is silent, their faces pale and eyes wide, but they don't interfere. They know better. This is your ritual, your bond, something sacred and incomprehensible to anyone else.

Ronin presses his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your lips. His thumb traces the contours of your face, brushing away tears you didn't notice. "You're mine," he murmurs, his voice breaking. "And I'm yours. Always."

The pain fades, your body numb from the intensity of the moment. You nod, your hands clutching at his shirt as if to anchor yourself to him, to this reality. Despite the blood, the chaos and the surrealness of it all, you feel a peace settling over you, a sense of rightness.

The spider lilies lean closer, their red petals almost black, drinking in the spilled blood as though it's their lifeblood too. The air is thick with tension, as if the world itself is bearing witness to your union.

Ronin leans down and kisses you, his lips brushing yours. The taste is of copper and salt, of love and sacrifice. It's not gentle, not soft, but it's real, and it's everything.

When he pulls back, his eyes are steady, his expression fierce yet tender. "We'll finish this together," he says, his voice steady despite the storm in his eyes. "No matter what."

As the world spins around you, your blood mingling with the earth, you know he means it.

[pyrettawychwiggin]

SFW Alphabet with Nanami Kento (Jujutsu Kaisen) - Gender-Neutral

Summary: this is a SFW alphabet for Nanami Kento from Jujutsu Kaisen.

Paired With: gender-neutral. I've kept the physical descriptors of 'your character' to be relatively ambiguous where I can. I will try to also specify differences between sorcerers and non-sorcerers where it's required.

Rating: GEN/TEEN — SFW - with some vague references to what could be considered mildy suggestive, but very little. I may do a NSFW alphabet for Nanami, but just like the one I did for Crow, that will mainly be posted on my Ko-Fi/Patreon.

Warnings: possible spoiler alert, possible mentions of violence and injury, swearing, some mildly suggestive themes in places.

Note From The Author: I love reading these little SFW (and in some cases, NSFW) alphabets for fictional characters. It's so cool to see how others interpret the characters and how they would handle things. So here's my own rendition for my favourite JJK character (and current fictional obsession) - Nanami Kento ♡

Some of the entries may be long. So be prepared for a lengthy read, y'all. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did making it! Ready for a little overtime? Let's get started!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show their affection?)

Anyone who's met Nanami - be it a passing stranger or a colleague - would tell you that he comes across as cold as ice.

However, those who are close to him know better; he is very distant, yes, but his watchful eyes are always looking out for the people around him. He cares about people far more than he lets on, and he takes the safety of others very seriously.

As for his 'affection' - it's hard-earned. He's not a touchy-feely guy in general, and while he comes to realize he appreciates physical touch with his partner more than he had ever expected, his natural love languages have always been acts of service and gift giving.

For you - his romantic partner, he can and will make the impossible happen if you wish it. You'd get very accustomed to hearing him say the words 'I'll handle it' - and you can trust that he really will, no questions asked.

He loves to feel your touch, of course, but he's especially fond of making sure your needs are met, and whenever he can take some weight off your shoulders, he'll do so without hesitation.

It may be surprising to others to see just how affectionate he can be when it comes to you. He's checking in on you constantly, opening every door, sliding out chairs, draping his jacket over your shoulders; some have even witnessed the rare sight of a smile on his lips as he whispers in your ear. He always maintains some form of physical contact with you when you're out and about; a firm hand on the small of your back, gentle fingers interlaced with yours and tucked into his pocket for warmth, a protective arm curled around your shoulders, or a strong hand on your thigh while you're en route to wherever you're going.

Honestly, if people are surprised to see how affectionate he can be with you in public, they'd be floored by how affectionate he can be when you're in private 👀

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He is the kind of best friend that everyone should have in their life - real ride-or-die type of friend. He's a good listener, he gives great advice, and he's not afraid of calling you out on your bullshit if you're in need of a reality check.

You never have to wonder if he's being real with you because frankly, that's just who he is. He won't mince words to save your feelings. That being said, he's not heartless. If he knows that his usual dose of brutal honesty may be more than you're prepared to hear at the moment, he knows how to choose his time properly.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He was just as surprised as anyone else when he realized he was a closet cuddle-bug. Even with his closest friends, he's not one for hugs and physical displays of affection. Before you two started seeing each other, the most he would manage is a firm handshake - maybe a pat on the back for a student who's done particularly well, but even that's a rare occurrence.

But with you?

Totally different beast. He manages to keep things relatively subtle in public so as to not make you or others uncomfortable, but when you're alone together, he's always pulling you into his chest for a hug, resting his head on your lap, slow dancing with you, etc. He especially loves to rest his chin on your head or shoulder to read along with whatever you're reading.

Hell, when you run your fingers through his hair, it's a surefire way to put him to sleep within minutes.

He realized he was in trouble the first time you two had gone on a work trip together. You were seated side-by-side, and while you two were very close, you weren't romantically involved, yet. The flight was much longer than what you were used to, and you wound up falling asleep, unintentionally resting your head on his shoulder.

His heart doesn't race often, but when he felt the weight of your head pressed on his arm and looked over to see you fast asleep - well, he knew he was hooked. Being careful so as not to wake you, he draped his jacket over your shoulders and ensured your rest was undisturbed until the plane was about to land.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Nanami is a domestic man at heart, and while he could never allow himself to go fully domestic while he's a sorcerer, he would greatly love the domestic life with the right person.

He's neat and tidy by nature, and he's a fantastic cook. He's also open to different dynamics depending on where you find meaning. If you are a homebody, he's happy to be the sole income earner, but if you're a worker bee like himself, he's happy to support your career however he can.

As for kids, again, never while he's a sorcerer - but if not for that, he'd be so down.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It would be unlikely that Nanami would ever choose to break up with you once you'd started dating, but if he did, it would be characteristicslly business-like. He'd sit you down, calmly explain his reasoning and leave no room for error or misunderstanding. He doesn't enjoy this, but if he has to break up with you, he wants to make it as quick and painless as possible. He's also one to cut ties afterward - if he's ended a relationship, there is no going back, and he has no intention of giving you reason to believe otherwise. After all, if he broke up with you, you can bet there was a damn good reason.

If you'd been married and for whatever reason got divorced, it would not have been Nanami's choice. If he marries, he's marrying with the intention of forever. As a divorced man, he has a hard time being around you. He tries to maintain a 'normal' exterior, but the moment you give him a sliver of hope to try to win you back, he's all in. He may not be married to you anymore by law, but in his heart? Always.

F = Fiancé (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Nanami is a monogamy-or-nothing kind of guy. If he's with you, he's with you, and that's all there is to it.

Even when you first started dating, anyone who saw the way you two were with each other would have sworn that you were a long-married couple. Commitment looks good on you two.

When it came to marriage, Nanami was very conflicted. He was already going against his better judgememt when he started a relationship with you despite the fact that he was still a sorcerer ('This might be the most selfish thing I've ever done'). Getting married, though? He'd basically be signing a paper saying 'why yes; I'd love to make you a widow.'

But by the Gods, does he ever want to. He knew he wanted to marry you within the first year of your relationship. He'd decided that the day he asked for your hand in marriage would be the day he'd resign as a sorcerer. He carried a ring in his pocket for nearly three years before he finally asked you.

He'd ask you on your anniversary. You'd be at a lovely villa by the seaside on a couple's vacation, enjoying drinks by sunset. He'd then surprise you with ownership papers for the villa signed by himself on one line; on the other, he'd written your first name with his last name. You'd look at him wide-eyed as he'd get down on one knee beside you.

'I've spent my whole life chasing after some sense of meaning. I couldn't find it as a salary man, and I couldn't find it as a sorcerer. Then there was you. I found meaning in you. I found meaning in us. Now, it doesn't matter to me what I do for a paycheque - as long as I can enjoy a long life with you, I'll have no regrets. Will you do me the honour of marrying me?'

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, Nanami is very mindful about how he treats you. He's very aware of his strength, and fortunately for you, he has meticulous control of that power. He tends to err on the side of gentle touches for the most part. Brushing his fingers over your cheek, parting a strand of your hair away from your face, lacing his fingers delicately between yours; even when things are getting a bit spicier, he's very adamant that you tell him verbally if you want 'more.'

Emotionally, gentleness is something that Nanami needed to work on a little bit; and even now, he'd incredibly blunt. He's always on your side, but in a way that means he will still call you out on your bullshit. The two of you have needed to establish a 'are you looking for support or solutions' disclaimer before certain conversations because simply agreeing with someone and telling them what they want to hear doesn't really come naturally to him.

That being said, even if he calls you out, he's never mean, callous or unfair. He maintains a certain matter-of-fact level of tact.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)

Before you started dating, Nanami was not a hugger. Even for his closest, longest-standing and most-trusted friends, he really doesn't do hugs.

With you, on the other hand, he's become much more open to that physical affection. He's a bit more subtle in public, but when you snuggle into his chest, he can't help but wrap his arms around you and chuckle.

At first, his hugs were admittedly a little awkward. He wasn't used to showing (or being shown) that kind of affection, really - so it would take him a few seconds to decide what to do with his hands as he awkwardly tried to make sure he wasn't touching you somewhere that would make you uncomfortable. You also noticed he'd almost stop breathing as if he was concerned the rise and fall of his chest would disturb the moment.

Over time though, he became so used to them that his day didn't feel complete without holding you at least once. His hugs are now warm and all-encompassing, and nothing makes you feel safer than being wrapped up in his arms. He especially likes to rest his chin on the top of your head while you bury your face into his chest.

I = "I Love You" (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Nanami is a repressed hopeless romantic at heart; even he didn't realize how quickly he could fall for someone until you two started exploring your relationship together.

He knew he loved you within the first couple of months of your relationship, but even he felt that voicing that so early would be too soon. For the most part, he likes to take the lead on romantic gestures, but this is the one time he wanted to wait until you'd said it first.

When you finally told him you loved him, he was taken aback at how much he needed to hear those words from you. All he do in the moment was holding your face in his hands and say 'I've loved you for longer than I think you realize.'

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they get jealous?)

He's not a particularly jealous man - mainly because he has the utmost trust in you not to give him a reason to be envious.

On rare occasions, someone else (usually Gojo) will try to make him jealous by pretending to flirt with you, but he mostly just finds it amusing to watch his partner expertly shut that shit down.

Any 'jealousy' he harbours usually presents itself as pride; making sure it's very clear that you're with him when you're out. If someone seems to be eyeing you a little too much, he takes the opportunity to pull you closer to him and plant a sweet (sometimes spicy) kiss behind your ear while maintaining direct eye contact with whoever he's sending that message to. You didn't even realize he was doing it at first. One day, when you noticed this, you teasingly said 'Nanami, darling - are you...jealous?' He chuckles and says 'I'm just making sure they're very aware of who's taking you home this evening.'

If you have a different partner before the two of you start seeing each other, this is when he feels that envy really creep up on him. He can't deny that it's there, but he makes a point of ensuring it doesn't become a problem, mostly keeping it to himself save for feeling a little grumpy throughout the day after seeing you two being sweet together. He would never act on that jealousy, though.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Nanami is a shockingly good kisser, and he loves kissing you whenever he can, and his kisses have range.

He loves to take his time with them, slowly raising his hand to cup your jaw to pull you closer while his other hand snakes around your waist to pull you in close, pressing his lips to yours and just sinking into the moment with you.

He loves heavy, passionate kisses after having been apart from you for too long, pressing his body against yours with carnal need, grabbing a fistful of hair in his hand and reveling in the feeling of your tongue on his.

Slow, soft trails of kisses across your neck and shoulders when he's standing behind you, his hands resting on your hips.

He's putty in your hands when you gently catch his tongue or bottom lip between your teeth - it never fails to get a low groan out of him.

He specifically loves when you trail kisses along his chest and back.

L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)

Children are initially intimidated by Nanami, thinking he looks mean or scary - but he's actually very nurturing by nature, and protective of children in general.

The patience he tends to lack when it comes to other adults, especially the incompetent ones, is seemingly reserved for kids, because he is incredibly patient with them.

While he's very open to the possibility of having kids someday, he is very adamant that this could only happen if he retired as a Jujutsu sorcerer - he refuses to bring a child into the world and all but condemn them to see their father meet an untimely (and likely violent) demise. If you were to get unexpectedly pregnant with his child however, he would resign as a sorcerer without a second thought.

He would be a fantastic father. He'd look out for and support his kids through everything and anything, he'd offer advice and guidance, he'd encourage them to be the best they could be, and he'd be willing and able to administer stern verbal discipline if needed. His approach on raising his children is simply 'communication is everything.' He ensures early on that his little ones see the value in talking to the both of you, no matter how difficult the conversation may be, and finding solutions together as a family.

If he had a son, he'd take it upon himself as his own personal responsibility to raise him to be a proper gentleman. If he had a daughter, he'd be the sweetest girl-dad you've ever seen (he'd be the type of girl-dad who would go out of his way to learn how to do her hair, and to read up on memstrual cycles, etc). If his child turned out to be non-binary, he would be supportive and protective of their well-being. Home would always be a safe space to freely express and find themselves.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He's a busy man - and you can be a busy couple - so most mornings don't allow for much dawdling. You both have a routine, though. The alarm goes off and he lets out a deep breath before turning it off, rolling back over to nuzzle his forehead against yours ('It's morning, love.')

All too soon, he's out of bed not long before you - you both get started on your usual morning getting-ready routines; whoever's ready first gets a pot of coffee brewing and gets started on breakfast (sometimes it's you, sometimes it's him). If you have to go you separate ways for work, he never leaves without a kiss and an 'I love you.'

If you work together or if he's able to drive you to youe work first, he always enjoys his morning drive with you.

On the rare occasion that the two of you get to enjoy a lazy morning, the routine is similar, but much slower. He lingers in bed with you for a while. If he's awake before you, he'll snuggle with you and watch you sleep for a few minutes before planting a soft kiss on your forehead and sliding out of bed to get breakfast going.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with him are quiet and comfortable. He has an evening routine that quickly became your evening routine as well (hence the his-and-theirs sinks he had installed in his bathroom right before you'd started living together; he loves getting ready for the day with you, and he loves getting ready for bed with you). When the two of you settle into bed, you've grown accustomed to the sight of him sitting up against the headboard with his reading glasses, taking in a chapter of whatever he's reading; sometimes you'll even read together. If you haven't both accidentally fallen asleep already, he sinks under the blankets with you and pulls you in close to him by your waist, planting a soft kiss on your neck or your forehead before falling asleep. You never need to worry about being cold, either - the man is a furnace.

Some nights can be a little lonely, though - if he has to work late (which he makes a point of trying not to do now that he has you to come home to). He'll come home late to see you curled up on the couch, fast asleep after trying to wait up for him. With a frown, he lifts you carefully into his arms and carries you off to bed to tuck you in with a soft kiss on the forehead and a whisper ('I'll join you in a moment, love.') He wishes you'd stop waiting up for him like that; but he's touched that you do.

O = Open (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or do they reveal little things slowly?)

The man is an enigma. On one hand, even as best friends, he seemed to be rather sparing with personal details about himself.

Once you start seeing each other though, this changes fast. Your first few dates were chalk full on conversation; learning about each other, talking about what you like, what you don't; your life goals, your fears - everything.

Once you two become an item, he isn't one to withold anything from you - if you want to know something about him, he's an open book to you and you alone. The way he sees it, he wouldn't be in a relationship with someone that he didn't trust completely - he knows you would never use this information against him in any way.

P = Patience (How easily are they angered?)

Nanami has self-discipline; but he's not a particularly patient man. He can be irritable sometimes, and some people just get under his skin more than others (*cough* Gojo *cough*).

He prefers to find the quickest and most efficient way to handle things, and can get frustrated when others don't do the same.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail or forget the minor things?)

His mind is a steel trap. He remembers every detail to an eerie degree. He doesn't just know your favourite colour - he knows the damn hex code. He's memorized your favourite poem off by heart. He knows your mother's birthday, your ring size, your insecurities, your passions, and all the places you love to be kissed the most.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment of your relationship?)

One of his favourite memories is the first morning you two spent together. You'd been in a relationship for about half a year when you stayed over at his place for the first time.

Unsurprisingly, he was awake before you were, but he vividly remembers opening his eyes to see your sleeping face beside him, the rays of the morning sun scattering around the room and painting you in a golden light that took his breath away. You were breathtaking; and he remembers thinking to himself:

'This is what I want to wake up to every morning for the rest of my life.'

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

This man is fiercely protective of you. Fortunately, you never need to worry about anything while you're out and about with him - that comes with the scary dog privilege - but if anyone, and I mean anyone, were to so much as threaten a hair on your head, he'd be between you and that threat so fast your head would spin.

He's always got his eye out for you - 24/7.

Nanami himself is rarely (if ever) in need of protection, but he'd be lying if he said seeing how fiercely protective you are of him in return didn't give him butterflies.

T = Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He makes it look effortless, but Nanami is one of the most thoughtful and considerate partners you could get. He plans dates and events down to the last detail and he always has a backup plan if things go sideways.

He never - n e v e r - forgets your birthday or your anniversary.

He also loves getting you gifts; even if there's no reason or occasion. He's always bringing you little treats he knows you like, and if he comes across something he knows you'd like, it's as good as yours. He loves to spoil you rotten whenever he can.

His thoughtfulness extends to the way he treats you at home, too. He's always happy to offer a massage, to run you a warm bath, to throw together your favourite meal, you name it.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

This should come as a surprise to no one, but the man is a notorious workaholic. If there were one thing between you two that would lead to a possible breakup/divorce, this would be the reason.

To his credit, this is a conversation he had with you very early in the relationship. You knew from the get-go, that it can sometimes be difficult to find time to spend together. For him, it's a balancing act that sometimes has him spreading himself far too thin, and can sometimes lead to him being irritable and grumpy, or just far too tired to do much of anything.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Nanami's no slouch - he puts a fair amount of effort into his appearance and keeps himself well-kept. He actually rather enjoys fashion in general - this makes him a useful and fun partner to have around when you're shopping or putting an outfit together - he actually enjoys the whole process. He especially likes to coordinate his ourfit with yours when he can.

In his line of work, though, things can get a bit messy - he won't lose sleep over a hair being out of place or getting dirt or blood on his clothes.

He does prefer to shower after most shifts, though. He doesn't mind the sweat and grime of the day, but he prefers not to soak in it if it can be avoided.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Nanami is a pretty independent guy; he's been on his own in his personal life for a very long time, so he's used to managing on his own. Even after the two of you start seeing each other, he's not one to be rendered useless without you, but as he puts it:

'I can't think of a single situation that wouldn't be made better with your presence.'

That is to say he doesn't need a partner - he specifically wants you as his partner. To him, this is infinitely more important than blind dependence.

If he were ever to truly lose you, however - be it to a breakup or if you were to tragically pass away, he would be an absolute wreck. The poor guy would either spend his time fighting to win you back, or work himself into an early grave in an attempt to distract himself from the loss.

X = X-tra (A random head-canon for them)

He has a rigid dental hygiene regimine, and he is incapable of ending or starting his day properly without brushing and flossing.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

He is initially uninterested in having a romantic relationship with another sorcerer; but the heart wants what it wants, and what it wants is you - sorcerer or no.

He has a number of pet peeves though, too. This includes (but is not limited to:

- being rude to waiters/store clerks

- eating in bed (he'll tolerate it on occasion as long as you're not leaving crumbs or anything, but he'd reeeeeeeally rather you just didn't)

- being consistently late to things

- poor dental hygiene (he doesn't care if your teeth aren't straight or 'perfect' - but he will nag you to brush and floss if you don't already)

Z = Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?)

Nanami is an early bird, originally out of necessity, but now it's simply habit to wake up with the sun. On the rare occasion that he gets to sleep in, however, he will take the opportunity to snuggle with you in bed for a while.

Wach night, he specifically likes to throw on some reading glasses and read a chapter or two of a book - he likes it even more if it's a book the two of you are reading together. Having you curl up against his chest under the covers are you read together sometimes ends with one or both of you dozing off partway through a paragraph.

He's a very light sleeper, and while you'll occasionally hear a low mumble or two from him in his sleep, he's silent otherwise. He prefers to sleep on his side, especially if he can keep an arm draped over your waist throughout the night.

He usually wakes up feeling as though he got no rest at all because he often dreams about work, feeling as though he just worked an entire shift in his sleep.

He gets the cutest bedhead most mornings as well ♡

(Artwork by ChaChaChia0)

That's all, folks! Thanks for reading. You take it from here - see you next time ♡

~ Pyretta Wychwiggin