#it just hits different when it's a flesh and blood Person being treated as if they have no will of their own

[liauditore]

tw dysphoria (i guess?), abandonment issues (it always when we talk about jimmy), just rambling about jimmy not being a toy but being dysphoric about it

(you can just delete it before reading if it could trigger you)

in my head all this "jimmy is a toyyy!!!" arc was not about haha toy story and let's ignore how they could know about it, okay, it's like how scott doesn't remember pearl and jimmy just OMG MY RANCHER, OMG SCAR, OH NO, GRIAN and yeah yeah yeah

you know that thing when everyone bulling person and calling them, for example, "monster" and they are like, well, a lot of people call me that, i should conform (megamind basically). that's something similar, everyone call jimmy a toy (which he's not) and he's starting to doubt if he's a human. everything joel did to him (or its all hallucinations or joel really can control it and make jimmy toy for some time) just making worth. jimmy wasn't a toy, was he? (in my headcanons sheriff jimmy it's cod jimmy that decided to try again but absolute opposite of what he was.)

and because of green also making hallucinations for him (i hope you knows green something like origin, you can find it something in romeos blog, i wrote about it a little), jimmy is really can't really say if he's not a toy. he doesn't want to belive it and we can see it in dialogues with scar, that jimmy refusing to be a toy, an action figure, everything besides who he really is.

i can imagine him, avoiding mirrors and reflective surfaces, so he won't see himself. i'm really inspired to write it all bc of cavetown dysphoric, it's so jimmy for me

it's been over a year now

i thought it was the end

but now i don't remember comfort

because what i am is what i'm not

i don't belong here, it's just hopeless

find me a way out

if you love me at all

don't let me hear what they say

cuz i can't stand it every day

i'm thinking that i should leave now

but i don't i think i'm coming back this time

it's killing my heart.

and scar was the only one who doesn't call jimmy a toy like 90% of their time together. jimmy knows that scar will leave, like his rancher left him, like emp1 scott left him alone with problem with cod father head and yeah yeah yeah....

i don't know, i just woke up and my brain wad like good morning, honey, it's time to make people suffer

- 🔥

angst?? for me??? 🥺🥺👉👈

HKDHKHLADH SCrEAMING,, putting thoughts under the cut cus i already know its gonna get Long but hkhlkfdhjk

OuGH i love this ��😭😭 although the megamind comparison kinda sent me lmao

side note i am. into very disturbing and messed up themes so you'd have to try very, very hard to upset me. so go wild in my ask box lol (i do have a good chunk of ppl who just have 'minor' in their bios following me tho so i might not respond to smth if i feel like it's 'too far' or hide it under a cut but yeah)

^realising this sounds like a "i am very badass" thing but i swear i just think stuff is cool 😭😭😭

BUT ANYWAY ouhfhkl mind break and objectification my beloved. i love taking the toy bit in an angsty direction cus i'll be honest i never really found the humour in it but it's TASTY recontextualized.

Jimmy's got a lot of fight in him but I'm just thinking maybe one day it all becomes a bit too much and he just.. goes limp in his seat, eyes glazed over, motionless except for his chest rising and falling with each breath. Someone (maybe Scar, since we're doing Scaridarity) finds him and is like "Hey, what's wrong? You okay?" and gets no response.

Scar would probably be somewhat uninitiated on the whole toy thing and be puzzled but I'd think he scoops Jimmy up and takes him somewhere safe til he recovers. and when he finally gets up he has a bit of a panic attack about what is real.

[dorkszn]

SOULLESS + katsuki bakugou

SYNP — after losing your quirk, you had no idea what to do with yourself and katsuki couldn’t help you

WARNINGS — masc reader, suicide, quirk loss, heavy angst | 1.3K

A/N — did i cook, y’all? 🥺

Your quirk was what made you. That was the mentality most people in this world had. It was what you grew up on. You took it seriously. Your quirk defined you.

Katsuki knew this. He understood you. Even he knew he was more than his quirk. He never put you down for it, he just pushed you to work harder.

And you pushed. You pushed and pushed and pushed. Until it all fell to shit.

You don’t process the silencing sound of the gun shooting until you feel the impact. The world slows while simultaneously crumbling around you. You can’t hear. You can’t hear Sir Nighteye shouting, you can’t hear Izuku’s gasp, you can’t hear Togata’s cry. You just feel. Feel a part of you being ripped away.

The bullet sits in your body. And you feel. You feel the gash in your flesh. You feel the blood seeping from the wound. You feel the sting of its penetration. Then you feel the strength drain from you. You pushed too far.

Everyone described your time in the hospital as uncharacteristic and silent. The only time you spoke was when Katsuki visited you. And he felt. He felt the emptiness radiating from you. Even then, you sat in quietness as you attempted to tell him how you were feeling. Empty. Weak. Soulless.

He couldn’t treat you like everyone else. For one of the first times in his life, he knew, a quirkless person was nothing less than him. He had to treat them right. He had to treat you right. Which he did of course.

Your mental and emotional condition always hurt him. Always made him feel like a piece of him was missing. Even when you were allowed to return to your training. When you’d help him with his special moves or by sitting on his back while he did pushups.

It was a mental trick. It was supposed to make you feel like you were back. It was supposed to make people see you and smile and pat you on the back. Giving you “good job!” and “we’re glad to see you back.” But you weren’t back. You weren’t anything. And nobody knew. Nobody knew until Katsuki and Aizawa did.

A normal day of physical therapy while everyone else was training. One where Katsuki requested to come with you and one where Aizawa sat in with you. Your arm wasn’t functioning like before. No part of you was. Not your mind, heart, or soul, if it was even still there.

The physical therapist gave you your usual spiel before leaving you with the two men.

“The way you’re taking this ain’t very heroic, you know?” Aizawa told you, taking a seat next to you on the bench. He put a comforting hand on your head, pulling you close to him.

Your words struck through the two like the bullet that hit you. The bullet that robbed you. “I’m not a hero anymore. I’m nothing.”

That’s when the two realized. You weren’t the same. The hero you were and the person you were now, were completely different.

Katsuki saw the signs. He knows he did. His only mistake was not knowing what to do about them. He had sick thoughts. He thought maybe if Izuku had gone through with his words, he’d know the signs. He’s grateful that Izuku is alive and well but a bit upset that he didn’t have the experience he needed.

You zoned out often, stayed in your dorm all the time, slept in class, and barely spoke at lunch, you wouldn’t text with your old spark and enthusiastically run up to him after school. He missed you. Not any more than he does now but he did. Even though you were right there. Like you were just a body floating its way through life.

He told Aizawa. Aizawa said to give you time. Katsuki doesn’t blame him. Not entirely. He couldn’t have known. But giving you time was the wrong move. Giving you time was the last thing you needed.

Katsuki knows he should’ve been smarter the day you gave him a letter. An envelope that you didn’t want him to open until the next day. Aizawa got one too. So did Hitoshi. And Izuku. But none of them thought anything of it. Just a way for you to get the words you couldn’t say out.

Katsuki should’ve known after seeing the way you grinned around everyone and stayed by his side all day. But he was stupid. He thought you were getting better.

Dear, Katsuki Bakugou.

Katsuki. I love you more than anything in this lifetime. I am forever grateful for what you’ve given me. My life has gone so much better than I ever expected because of you. I want to give you the world. I tried. I tried really hard. But I can’t. Everything feels dull and nothing feels right. I feel trapped and I don’t feel like myself. And I can’t get out of this slump. Being here feels like being dead. I’m not here. I know this would hurt to text you or say to your face. I can’t think of those eyes of yours without it hurting me. Nothing is your fault. Never. Thank you, Katsuki. I love you in this life and beyond. Take your time, hold your ground, and become the best. I’m rooting for you. I’ll see you on the other side or in another life. I know if I become myself again, I will always find you.

Love, your dumbass, y/n l/n.

The wind rushed past you. Everything looked so different from your view. The same scenery you’d be taking in for the past few months sits ahead of you but it looks different. It feels nice. Maybe because this was the last time you’d see it.

The ground glares up at you, it’s pavement calling to you. The moonlight shines on your skin, casting your shadow on the rooftop of the dorms. You try to smile. To take it in one last time. But you can’t. Your mind won’t let you. Whatever was left of your soul won’t let you.

You just take a deep breath. And feel. You feel the bullet breaking your flesh and shattering your bone. You feel Katsuki’s warmth surrounding you. You feel Aizawa’s hand on your head. You feel and feel and feel. Before you fall.

It only took minutes after sunrise before you were found. An unlucky student stumbles across a corpse. Their blood-curdling scream immediately grabbed the whole world’s attention. It only took hours for them to collect you and identify you.

After that, it only took minutes for it to be announced to the class. It only took seconds for Katsuki to unwillingly break down. As fast as the bullet ripped your quirk from you, his soul, his mind, and his heart were ripped from him.

It only took seconds for the pity and grief to intoxicate the room. Poisoning every first year and teacher at the school. It only took days for Katsuki to finally convince himself to read the letter. It only took seconds for him to break down again and be pulled into Aizawa’s chest.

It only took a week for Katsuki’s world to crumble.

He visits you through the snowy days and warm nights. Sitting in front of your stone and replacing your flowers. Your soul is long gone and it feels as if his was too. The picture of you in his t-shirt, stupidly grinning at the camera stares into him. And he feels. He feels the hurt. He feels the pain. He feels your warmth. He feels your missed presence. He feels and he feels and he feels. Until he doesn’t think he can anymore.

“You weren’t nothing, y/n. You were everything.” He pushed the words out.

[convenientalias]

Why Nirvana in Fire Wins at Revenge Story with Identity Porn

Nirvana in Fire was my first ever cdrama that was a revenge story with identity porn. Since then, I've seen many other dramas along similar lines. A League of Nobleman. Blood of Youth. City of Streamer. Fighting for Love. Legend of Anle. Long Ballad. Princess Weiyoung. Rise of Phoenixes. Sword Dynasty. Weaving a Tale of Love. Word of Honor. Some of them are quite good but none of them really hit the same way. So, apart from the fact that it was the first one I ever watched, I thought I'd made a brief list of reasons why I think Nirvana in Fire is the best.

Lin Shu's Identity

I just appreciate that when shit went down and Lin Shu's whole family and army and many of his friends were killed and he became a man on the run, he was a full-grown man (okay, still pretty young, but definitely not a child) with his own life and even an army position.

A lot of these identity porn dramas will have their MCs meeting ppl for the first time in many years, in disguise, but they only knew these ppl when they were children. Childhood friends are great and all that, but can they hit as hard as the complicated, fleshed out relationships that Lin Shu had and lost? He had a friendship of many years with Jingyan. He had an engagement and a longstanding friendship with Nihuang. He has friends from the army, younger cousins playing the role of "we don't even understand what happened back then and maybe that's better", older friends and relations who he actually knew as an adult.

Simultaneously, his past identity increases the threat of discovery for Lin Shu. He's a known factor to many, many people in the capital. Yes, they think he's dead. But small things like a hazelnut allergy or his mannerisms or his previous friendships with people are still memorable enough that even with a completely different face, if he's not careful, he might give himself away. He's not infiltrating a group of strangers or people who only knew him as a kid. He's infiltrating a group of people who were close to him for many, many years of his life.

HOWEVER. Lin Shu's identity is not so important that everyone in the capital is still obsessed with him twelve years later (with some exceptions). This isn't Mysterious Lotus Casebook where we're all still pining for Li Xiangyi, because...

2. The Chiyan Case Wasn't Even About Lin Shu?? (Also, No One Cares About That Ancient History Anymore (Jingyan, Sit Down))

The Chiyan case wasn't about the Lin family at all, really.

No one specifically wanted Lin Shu dead or had a big grudge against his dad or anything. It's all about power, military and political. For some conspirators, it was just about getting a leg up in court. But mostly, it was about Prince Qi, the previous crown prince. The Lin family just happened to be friends with him and ended up in an uncomfortable (highly murderable and frameable) position.

Lin Shu may mourn his family, but for the majority of the show, he doesn't talk about it. He doesn't talk about his mother and his family back at the capital either committing suicide or being killed indiscriminately. He only mentions his father's name a handful of times in the whole show. Lin Shu's drive is that his father's ARMY was killed, tens of thousands of men. That's the weight on Lin Shu's shoulders: the death of all these innocent men because they were in the way. The Chiyan Case; the Chiyan Massacre. The denouement of Lin Shu's victory (not to give too many spoilers) is not just his father's name being cleared of a treason charge. It's when there's finally a memorial put up for the Chiyan Army, with memorial tablets that he can publicly visit to pay respects.

Why does this make it a better revenge story with identity porn? A couple reasons. First, Lin Shu is very much the center of the story and has very personal beef, but he treats himself like a tool and his objective isn't about himself or familial connections (they're part of it but they're not everything). He doesn't even know all the people he's avenging. That's fine; he'll still carry that weight. I just think it's neat.

Second, the fact that the Lin family (and the whole Chiyan Army) were really just collateral damage for getting rid of Prince Qi really emphasizes just how careless the current regime is of the value of human life.

Third, as Meng Zhi says when Lin Shu comes to the capital, everyone at court is busy with their own little power struggles and no one has time to care about Lin Shu or protect him. Lin Shu's like yeah that's fine :) I'm not anyone's focus anymore and the Lin family has been swept under the rug like we never existed :) and no one even talks about the Chiyan case anymore for fear of being accuse of treason :) that's all okay because I'm about TO MAKE THIS EVERYONE'S PROBLEM ANYWAY and honestly the fact that everyone's trying their hardest to forget will just make them more oblivious when I come to fuck them up.

3. All Of This is Whose Fault, Again?

That's right, folks, we're in a show that knows that when shit goes down at court and your family gets framed for treason and the emperor orders them executed, sure, you can blame the conspirators who framed them all you want, but also, YOU KIND OF DO HAVE TO BLAME THE EMPEROR.

People have said enough about how great this is on a thematic level of accountability but seriously I've seen so many shows dodge this. ~It's not the emperor's fault bc he was misled by these conspirators~ or ~the emperor is only a puppet emperor, if he actually had power instead of this evil person, he would put everything right.~ Or, if they dare to blame the emperor, maybe he's just an evil emperor and was bad all along. NIF says yeah, he was lied to on many levels. There was a whole complicated conspiracy going on and many people to blame. But he could have taken things slower. He could have required better evidence. He could have trusted people who had supported him for many years, at least enough to listen to their side of the story BEFORE KILLING THEM. And why didn't he? It's not because he's an idiot. It's because he's an emperor, and emperors don't like seeing other people gain enough power to even potentially become a threat. It's because he wasn't looking for the truth, he was looking for an excuse to kill. And he's not unusually evil for that; this kind of callousness towards murder and grasping for power at all costs is more the norm at court than any kind of honor or morality.

The Emperor's a nice guy sometimes! He used to fly kites with Lin Shu when he was young! His sons give him a headache, but honestly, relatable, they'd give you a headache too! He likes Consort Jing and honestly, who wouldn't! And he killed one of his sons, one of his closest friends, and an entire army, and he would do it again without hesitation. He's not especially evil. Being an emperor is bad enough.

4. Other Bad Guys

It's worth mentioning that Lin Shu's opponents are not stupid.

Xie Yu and Xia Jiang, Prince Yu and the Crown Prince, even the Empress and Noble Consort Yue: They aren't all geniuses, but they aren't idiots flailing around in spite. They're pretty smart, and if Lin Shu wants to take them down, he has to be smarter.

It's also worth mentioning that this is not one of those shows where the protagonist happens to take down his opponents mostly by standing still and just defending himself when they lash out at him. This seems like an obvious thing in a revenge drama, but the number of times I've seen the opposite, the protagonist swearing revenge and then just struggling with self preservation.... but no. Lin Shu has A Plan. He is going to be proactive and actually take his enemies down. Admittedly he will do this by revealing their past misdeeds but this isn't a case of "the misdeeds will just happen to pop up". This is a case of "I will actively unearth skeletons from where you threw them in a well in an abandoned manor".

TO SUM UP

Without going into the things that make Nirvana in Fire a great show in general (great acting, good pacing and plotting, good costuming, and so on and so forth) I think the main things that make it hit for me as a revenge story with identity porn are 1) letting the MC's past identity be that of a grown man who actually had a life (more connections to the past, but also more to lose and more danger in the present as a result), 2) the fact that the offense that the MC is avenging wasn't even like a personal thing to the offenders (bc! it's fucking infuriating!), 3) the fact that the drama is willing to face the root of the problem (the problem is both corruption at court and the fact that the highest arbiter is flawed, not just individual conspirators), 4) the supply of multiple good antagonists, and 5) LETTING THE MC ACTUALLY, ACTIVELY PURSUE REVENGE AND THAT'S THE MAIN PLOT AND WE AREN'T SPENDING MOST OF OUR SCREENTIME ON SIDEPLOTS AND ROMANCE OR MERE SELF PRESERVATION. These may not seem like large things but my friends, you would be surprised how many revenge dramas I've watched at this point that can't do them.

ok I'm done ranting. Feel like most of this is actually stating the obvious but I'm just in a mood and had to get it out. (...also possibly I've been let down by some revenge dramas lately but I won't get into it. it's okay. we can't all be Nirvana in Fire; only Nirvana in Fire can be Nirvana in Fire.)

[la-pheacienne]

On the meaning of "Misérable"

"The point of departure, like the point of arrival, for all his thoughts, was hatred of human law; that hatred which, if it be not arrested in its development by some providential incident, becomes, within a given time, the hatred of society, then the hatred of the human race, then the hatred of creation, and which manifests itself by a vague, incessant, and brutal desire to do harm to some living being, no matter whom. It will be perceived that it was not without reason that Jean Valjean’s passport described him as a very dangerous man".

Les Misérables, Volume 1, Book 2, Chapter 7, The Interior of Despair

"First of all, even before examining himself and reflecting, all bewildered, like one who seeks to save himself, he tried to find the child in order to return his money to him; then, when he recognized the fact that this was impossible, he halted in despair. At the moment when he exclaimed “I am a wretch!” he had just perceived what he was, and he was already separated from himself to such a degree, that he seemed to himself to be no longer anything more than a phantom, and as if he had, there before him, in flesh and blood, the hideous galley-convict, Jean Valjean, cudgel in hand, his blouse on his hips, his knapsack filled with stolen objects on his back, with his resolute and gloomy visage, with his thoughts filled with abominable projects. Excess of unhappiness had, as we have remarked, made him in some sort a visionary. This, then, was in the nature of a vision. He actually saw that Jean Valjean, that sinister face, before him. He had almost reached the point of asking himself who that man was, and he was horrified by him".

Les Miserables, Vol. 1, Book 2, Chapter 13, Little Gervais

Continuing my post on the greek translation of the title of Les Misérables, what's interesting here is the phrase "I am a wretch!". It's interesting because in french it's "Je suis un misérable!". The greek translator chooses to use the greek word "athlios" here, the same one he used for the title of the book, and I think that was a good choice. I don't understand why the english translator replaced the word "miserable" with the word "wretch", probably because the word "miserable" does not exactly convey what Valjean describes himself as in this particular chapter? "Miserable" does not necessarily have a deeply pejorative connotation, whereas the word "wretch" means both "an unfortunate or unhappy person" and "a despicable or contemptible person". Maybe the differences are small but in my mind the two words just feel different. Here the french word "misérable" is used in the latter sense, I think (= despicable and contemptible person) so "wretch" does feel closer to that.

However, it would be important to use the same word as the title, because Hugo clearly wanted to associate both Valjean's particular state of mind and the objective situation he was in with the title of the book. That's why Valjean exclaims "Je suis un misérable!". That's what the book is about. And what is that? A "very dangerous man", a "hideous" ex convict with "abominable" thoughts, a man "horrified" by himself. He's not just miserable, he's not just poor, he's not even just an outcast. He's not just rejected by society because it's not just society that hates him. It's that he has truly actually become a hateful human being, capable of the worst, so much that he is horrified by himself. He is a man who steals little kids and attacks the only person that has treated him with kindness, contemplating whether or not to crush his skull. That's the very essence of what a "Misérable" is in the context of this book.

Final note (disclaimer, I'm not at all specialized in translations or in languages, that's just my superficial opinion): After a brief comparison of the greek and the english translation with the french text, what I can say is that globally the use of some words, phrases, expressions in greek just hits different in ways the english vocabulary can't always convey, and that's probably because of the particularity of the greek language, mainly the syntactic versatility and the richness of the vocabulary. That is why it is practically impossible to find the exact equivalent of "Athlios" (greek word for misérable) in english because that word alone has a very particular magnitude, meaning both miserable and despicable in equal measure. However, what the english translator maybe lacks in "depth", he gains in rigor and scrupulousness, I think, because our guy is not very meticulous lol (not a surprise culturally we are not famous for that). So I definitely do not want to discredit the english translation.

[nanshe-of-nina]

This is from a history book about 17th century Britain, The Time Traveler's Guide to Restoration England, that I read awhile ago:

When men fight publicly to the death and privately beat their women, children and servants, you can imagine how they treat animals. As you will see in the final chapter of this book, cockfighting, bull baiting and bear baiting are all still extremely popular. The Commonwealth banned these games not because they are cruel sports, but because people enjoyed them too much – they were too much of an indulgence, in Puritan eyes. In 1656 all the bears at the Bear Garden in London were shot by a firing squad, with the sole exception of one cub. It is fair to say that most people are delighted to see blood sports back. Besides being popular entertainments, they form an important part of the ritual year. Schellinks records that on Shrove Tuesday 1662:

In London one sees in every street, wherever one goes, many apprentice boys running with, under their arms, a cock with a string on its foot, on which is a spike, which they push firmly into the ground between the stones. They always look for an open space and, for a penny, let the people throw their cudgel from a good distance at the cock, and he who kills the cock gets it. In the country or with country folk they bury a cock with only its head above the ground and blindfold a person and turn him two or three times round himself, and he then tries to hit the cock with a flail, and the one who hits it or comes closest to it gets the prize.

... Cats are rounded up and burnt alive on 5 November – the gruesome details follow in the next chapter. Across the country, hedgehogs, badgers, foxes and stoats are all killed on sight. So too are whales, especially when they swim up a river like the Thames, as they do in 1658 and 1699. In the modern world, we would try to guide a whale back to open sea. In the seventeenth century, people’s instinct is to kill it first, then consider what they are going to do with it. All that flesh and oil – it has to be good for something.

The author also mentions earlier that attitudes about nature were also very different. To wit:

One of the most interesting things about the British countryside in the late seventeenth century is how differently people see it, compared to the modern world. While out riding, they don’t pull on their reins at the top of a hill and exclaim, ‘Oh, isn’t that a lovely view!’ They just don’t associate nature with beauty in the same way that we do.

When the antiquary Ralph Thoresby travels throughout northern England in the 1690s he never once expresses any admiration of the scenery. Coming to Lake Windermere, in what we know as the Lake District, he simply remarks that it is ‘the most spacious lake in England’. Ascending the mountain to Hardknott Pass, he talks of the mountains being ‘terrible’ and ‘dangerous’ and of the rivers in the valleys as ‘hideous in places’.

Celia Fiennes, an intrepid gentlewoman who travels the length and breadth of England in her thirties, similarly talks about ‘those high inaccessible rocky barren hills which hang over one’s head in some places and appear very terrible’. When she visits Lake Windermere in 1698 she notes all she has learnt about the manorial rights and customs, how the locals make bread and so on, but there is no indication that she is moved by the view.

today my wisdom is: the ecological crisis of our planet is not a thing that will Suddenly destroy us sometime in the next century—it has taken decades of continuous work for our biosphere to be preserved thus far, and it will take decades more of continuous work to continue preserving it.

The apocalypse is not a single event hovering in the future bearing down on us while we sit helplessly. We are at least 150 years into an ongoing "apocalypse."

Things will continue to steadily get worse without steady action, but "augh! it's already too late to stop climate change and mass extinctions!" is specifically the worst response

[foreverdolly]

gold heart | austin!elvis x reader

summary: whilst out as a family, elvis sees a homeless man in need and decides that everybody deserves a second chance in life. your husband, being the sweet man that he is, invites him over to eat lunch with you and your son.

pairings: dad austin!elvis x mom reader

word count: 1,776

warnings/notes: this is just super fluffy and cute, all warm and bubbly feelings, elvis is the best dad, the poem thing is actually a true story, writing this cured my depression.

masterlist | requests are currently closed.

With the sun hitting him like this, his eyes looked crystalline. His long, dark lashes cast shadows on his cheeks as he kept his eyes downturned, watching the man across the street with a deep set frown and a hard set jaw. Elvis looked beautiful at any angle. He always had, and you were sure that he always would. Red was sitting at the table across from the three of you, along with his cousin Sonny. They were eating their own lunch while keeping their eyes on you, Elvis, and your son. Theodore- lovingly referred to by Teddy- was babbling away in Elvis’s lap, grabbing at anything he could get his hands on. He was currently trying his hardest to reach for your husband’s drink, and sensing the tiny boy’s mischievous plans the man reached out blindly, pushing the cup a little further back on the table.

“Baby. . . if it upsets you that much, why don’t you go talk to him? I have some cash in my purse.” You cooed to him, picking up a strawberry from your plate and biting a small piece of it off, reaching your arm across so that you could pop it into your baby’s mouth. “I just hate seein’ people like that. The thought of him sleepin’ on the cold floor at night makes me want to cry.” Elvis had never been homeless, but he sure as hell had been poor. Even in his childhood he had given what he could to the children that were even less fortunate than he and his family were. His kindness had been one of the first things that stuck out to you about Elvis back when the two of you met in school. What little he had for lunch he would spare for the other kids, hating to see them go hungry. It was his heart that made you love him so much. His looks were just a gilded bonus. “Well why don’t I take Teddy off of your hands so that you can go talk to him.” You offered, knowing how badly he felt for the man. Sonny looked up at Elvis with wide eyes, moving to stand up and out of his chair. “We’re comin’ with you, right?” Elvis stood up, holding your son against his hip. 

It was always so striking for you to see him so domesticated like this. When he went on stage he was such a force of nature. When he was alone with you though, he was a completely different person. Gentle, sweet, and innocent. It was Theodore’s first birthday just a month ago, and instead of showering the boy in toys and clothes, he had hired a poet to write the small boy a poem. “The priceless gift” was the title. The second that the older woman had handed him the piece of paper he had cried, running upstairs so that he could grab a pen. “This is beautiful” he had written on the corner, signing and dating it for Teddy to appreciate once he got older. His tears had smudged a bit of the calligraphy, and you had watched with glassy eyes of your own as your husband apologized to the poet for ruining her beautiful scrawling. “The tears make it even more priceless, honey.” You had told him. 

Elvis loved people. He never let anyone go hungry or cold. He hated seeing anyone in need, because he had been there once himself. The poor boy from Tupelo made sure that everyone around him was safe and stable. A homeless man across the street was no different. He treated everyone he met as though they were his own flesh and blood. “No, you’re not comin’ with me. He’ll probably get scared and run off if a bunch of strange men approach him.” He rubbed his hand up and down on your son’s back in a comforting motion, his gold rings glistening in the sunlight. “But EP, what if someone tries somethin’-” “I’ll be just across the street. Stop treatin’ me like an invalid.” He shooed the two men off, nodding his head towards the door to signal that he wanted you to follow him. You grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder before walking with him across the street. Cars honked at the two of you as you crossed the road, recognizing the two of you immediately. The beautiful thing about Elvis’s life was that the people loved him just as much as he loved them. 

“Excuse me, sir.” Elvis kept his hand on your son’s back as he approached, shooting the man that dazzling smile of his. For a second the man just stared, as if he couldn’t grasp the fact that he was the one that Elvis was calling out to. Slowly he raised a hand, pointing at himself, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Elvis simply laughed, nodding his head. “Yes, you.” Slowly the man raised up to his feet, and it was then that you could see just how old and worn his clothes were. You had to school your face into a calm expression, not wanting the pity to show. You’d hate to offend anybody. The man looked like he hadn’t showered in days, and even his shoes had holes in them. Your gentle husband seemed to notice too, but he didn’t hesitate to reach his hand out for the other gentleman to shake. “My name is Elvis, and this is my wife Y/n. We were wonderin’ if you wanted to come have lunch with us. You can order anything you want.” You flashed the man a beaming smile of your own, pointing off towards the awning that your small group were still sitting under. “We’d love to treat you.” You agreed. For a second the man just stared, his bottom lip quivering slightly as he finally grasped just what was happening. Elvis and Y/n Presley wanted to have lunch with him. Wanted to talk to him. You knew how most homeless people were treated, and it hurt your heart to see how emotional he was over the fact that you and your husband were even giving him the time of day. “I haven’t eaten a meal in days. T-That would be wonderful.” Elvis’s smile faltered, and he was quick to reach out, taking the man’s arm in his hand. “Well let’s order everything off of the menu, alright? The Arcade Restaurant has the best food in town, I guarantee it. The wife and I come here all the time, isn’t that right, baby?” You followed after the two men, watching as your son pulled at the dark brunette’s shirt with tiny hands. You smiled warmly, moving to stand at the homeless man’s other side. “They have the best burgers in town.” You explained, making your way back over to your table. You reached out, taking your son out of Elvis’s arms, your husband grabbing a spare chair from Sonny and Red’s table so that he could pull it close to his. 

The man’s name was Rodney, and he was the type of person that you could talk to for hours. He had all kinds of stories, each one more amazing than the next. He had lived a full life, but had lost his house after financial hardship. After being fired from his job he had to sell his car just so that he could buy something to eat. Eventually the money ran dry, and he was stuck begging for odd-end jobs and asking for loose change. Your husband really had ordered the entire menu, even after Rodney tried to discourage him. The wait staff had to pull up another table just to fit all of it. After he had eaten his fill, the three of you talked for as long as baby Teddy could stand it. Eventually the small boy started to get fussy, pulling at your clothes and crying in an attempt to garner your attention. “Well the little one is startin’ to get tired. I think we should be headin’ home.” Elvis signed a hefty check for the meal, handing it off to the waitress with a smile, telling her to keep the change for herself. The middle aged woman looked to be damn near close to a heart attack, Elvis’s dazzling smile directed at her. Rodney stood up from the table, reaching out to shake Elvis’s hand and then reaching out for yours to do the same. “Thank you both so much. I’ll remember this for the rest of my life, Mr Presley.” Elvis shrugged his shoulders, playing down the random act of kindness. “It was nothin’. Don’t mention it.” Red and Sonny stood up for their table, getting ready to leave the restaurant, but stopped when Elvis waved them over. “Listen Rodney, you look like a strong and capable guy. One of my bodyguards just retired, and I was wonderin’ if you’d be willing to work with me. I’ll pay you well, of course. I’ve been so shook up over tryin’ to find someone to work for me, and I think you’d be perfect for the job. Red, why don’t you take Rodney to the guest house? I’m sure I have some clothes that might fit him.” 

Rodney’s jaw dropped, and you couldn’t help but smile. You’d been grinning all evening long, so much so that your cheeks were beginning to hurt. Elvis never ceased to take your breath away. The man was good, through and through. Not a single one of his bodyguards had retired, but it was obvious to you that Elvis wanted to give the man a way to make a living. Help him to get back on his feet. Your husband wouldn’t shut up about Rodney all the way home, and the earsplitting smile stayed on his face throughout the entire drive. “You did good, baby.” You reached down, giving his thigh a supportive squeeze. He squeezed the wheel a little tighter, readjusting himself in the seat nervously. “Did I? Do you really mean it? Oh golly, I just couldn’t leave him out there like that, especially after getting to know him. He’s a good man, I can tell.” So could you. You wouldn’t mind having someone like him around. When you had married Elvis you knew what you were getting yourself into. The two of you were almost never alone. You always had an entourage, but the more the merrier. There was never a dull moment at Graceland. 

And just like that, Elvis had adopted another man into the Memphis Mafia. Whatever Elvis touched turned to gold, and that included the lives of those around him.

@bookklover23 @medleyj @idkwhattthisisss @dharnwjs @slutforsomegoodlettuce @crackerbarrelslut @macey234 @nightfiress @keepdrivingrr @melodydior @luvvrrrrr @mymamalife @wwebby657 @shynovelist @ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic @butlerslut @jyvnho @alqvarde @bcofl0ve @mslizziesblog @ggxsan @screaching-cookie @fantuhsise @areuirish @hxllvely @lelifesaver @milaa24 @meladollsims @poppet05 @shrekstheloml @randomwriter888 @idc123sworld @vane28282 @mirandastuckinthe80s @girlblogger2002 @rockerchick05 @screechingstrawberrysong @simpforevery1 @girlabirla @dre6ming @obetrolncocktails @fairyjanes @jensenswinchester @lo-bells @in-my-body-bag @fxntxsix @petrparkrslut @eliseinmemphis @abloversblog @gwuide @blurredcolour @the-little-red-haired-girl @thella @anni-secret-account-75 @ab4eva @starcatchxr @hllfireandtheforce @obbsessivereader @marthablake @julietamidala @unsaidjaelinrose @dark-as-love @lucy27055 @cchl @austinsrealgf @austinbutlersgirlfriend @clearbolts @radempathypastaspy @gabrielajimenez @discodeniro @itsacherokeerose @honee-chai-tea @erendipi @c-c81 @justscrollinthrough @busy-bee-angel-misska @maximumrebel3751980amhcowbo-blog @cosmorant

[that-yandere-life]

Please ignore this request if it is being asked before, but can you please do a mafia au Stephen strange headcanon? Thanks a lot :)

[Warnings: Yandere Themes *Obviously*, Mafia AU, Light mentions of torture/murder/blood, Kidnapping, tiny allusions to prior abuse (Not by Stephen).]

Stephen would come off as very callous all the time, because he believes that showing kindness is equal to weakness and he didn’t rise to the top by being weak.

Nearly everyone calls him heartless when he doesn’t sympathize or empathize in certain situations with the struggles of his men, not allowing for mistakes to be made that could cost him dearly.

Most of the time he has specific people in his employ to do the information gathering under his watchful eye, but occasionally he will get outraged enough to do the work himself, taking great pleasure in squeezing the life out of the offender.

At one time he was a doctor, doing great but powerful things, now he didn’t use a scalpel for medical purposes, but as a means to an end to gain whatever his heart desired.

A different kind of power that he allowed to wash over him, mold him, guide him towards his deepest desires.

One of his fantasies started to include you when he encountered you one day during a bloody battle between factions, you were an innocent bystander despite your connections to his rivals in the familial sense.

As part of their punishment for daring to aggravate him he would kidnap you leading you to believe that you were going to be tortured, killed, or even have worse befall you.

Trying to seem like you weren’t affected by the actions of the strong willed man in front of you, needing to keep things calm and collected.

Being taught long ago that people like him don’t appreciate tears or begging, typically setting them off due to the lack of strength shown.

Placing you in a chair but not binding you to it he will ask you an array of questions, gauging the relationship you had with those who tried to rise against him.

Luckily for you, you didn’t have any major information or solid ties to the group as they didn’t quite treat you kindly even though they were your own flesh and blood.

Lack of loyalty towards them told him the whole story, imagining that they had to do something wrong for you to speak so cavalier about the tension that remained between you.

Reaffirming that when you went into detail about the many years of emotional and occasionally the slight physical abuse you faced on a daily basis.

For the first time he showed compassion towards another person, mostly since you were alone with him and no one else was around to witness this.

Feeling for what you had gone through, determined to keep you away from the anguish you had long since come to expect, longing to protect you from his vicious enemies.

Showing you a comfortable guest room held in his giant compound that was just down the hallway from his own, telling you that if you needed anything to come find him.

Letting you just explore and get accustomed to your new surroundings, the confused looks on peoples faces at the sight of you was becoming minorly amusing.

Meanwhile you manage to eventually work your way into his heart, the initial encounter starting something much grander to develop over time not only for him but for you too.

Everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you, seeing his expressions warm at the very sight of you, giving them a different perspective on the boss but in a mutual respect kind of way.

Sometimes even letting you attend meetings by his side, wanting them to listen to your orders nearly as much as they listened to him, giving you explicit permission to do things most others could never get away with.

Proximity to the other group gave you insight into how a business like this was run, although from what you could gather it was far more organized and methodical than what you were used to.

Explaining to him as much, giving him a better idea of how to take the opposite gang out, hitting them right where it hurts, all along you were watching on with sheer delight, revenge being taken by the man who you had grown to care deeply for.

Once and for all they took out those who tried to consistently oppose them, previously ending the lives of many great men and women who dedicated their lives to the cause.

Taking them out for more reason than just getting rid of a problem, it also prevented them from trying to get you back, although if they hadn’t attempted by then they likely didn’t care enough to come after you.

Not that he would ever let you in on the secret, wanting to improve your mental health instead of further tearing it down, showing you what lengths he was willing to go to that they were not.

Reigning Supreme with you his equal, terrorizing the town, instilling a new type of regime by your combined abilities, nothing would ever be the same, thrilling you with ideas for the perfect future, one you would stride towards hand in hand.

[You know I love my Mafia AU's! This is no exception, honestly a ton of fun to imagine! I hope that you enjoy it, and that it was what you were envisioning darling! <3]

[lunarblazes]

@bananasofthorns wrote a BEAUTIFUL desertduo fic talking about soul bonds and such and i just. it’s 4:30 am. legally i had to brainrot like an idiot (theseus’ ship association inspired by zephyr on hermbi whose tumblr i do not know sadly :^( and heart mechanics partially inspired by @chrysalizzm in this post go check it out) so here’s a short fic-thing i guess?

Hearts are made of flesh and blood, of souls and personality. Severing one takes a decisive amount of force, tearing your own center of life out and handing it to another. You have to mean what you are doing.

Grian’s hearts are golden. Fully golden, crystalline and shining. He cannot see inside his own chest, but he can feel the gold spreading, covering his organs and clotting in his veins. It reminds him of the slow, viscous liquid gold that dripped out of Scar’s head last— when Scar died on the mountaintop.

Theseus’ Ship is a thought experiment that Mumbo brought up, once. If something is replaced, bit by bit, until there’s nothing original left, is it still the same as it was, his best friend had asked, staring out at the night unblinkingly.

Grian asked for both of these lives. They aren’t his; they never will be. This Ship of Theseus never sailed a day in its life, only crashed and sank on the victorious return, was treated like a hero. Theseus’ return brought the death of his father, his ship’s sails the wrong hue.

He can feel them moving. He knows they work. It was bad on red, when he knew the last life he had was Scar’s, but now… now he has two lives, more than Scar. Grian can feel him on the other end of the line, so to speak, the tempest of swirling terror that comes with being red.

Grian would never tell a soul, but his biggest fear is that when he wins, his victory won’t be his own. The ship will have been rebuilt, over and over and over again, until there’s nothing left of himself. Who’s to say they can’t tweak him, make him different, better every time he dies? Complacent, content, smiling? A sharp grin that looks far too much like Scar’s, crystallizing his mind and eyes and hands, bloody amethyst eyes.

One day he may wake and find himself replaced, slowly and painstakingly. One day there may be nothing left of him (the gold spreads, he can feel Scar on the other end of the line), a slow and insidious death devised from a gift. A saving grace.

Nobody thought to ask the ship if it wanted to be rebuilt. Nobody thought to take the time to let it rot, let it die a natural death. Its planks are polished and beautiful, its sails clean and white.

If they had asked, the ship would have told them rebuild me twice, let me live, begged them, even, torn a heart out with its mast and sails like hands forming, but is it really living when the ship can feel its own soul slipping away into the void, can feel both of its world-given hearts tangled in the void? Surviving, is the word the citizens of the walled city would have used. Surviving is so much different than living.

Grian trips and falls once, hitting his head on the wall. Mumbo asks if he’s alright. Grian doesn’t turn to face him when he mumbles out a reply. He wipes the glittering gold off of his face.

Is there anything left of the slime and rot that once coated the ship? The hearts of the Southlands are not their own. Maybe that’s why they scattered into the winds.

Grian turns the wither skull over in his hands. He can see the crystal working its way up his fingers, twisting his exoskeletal talons with budding clusters. He wonders what parts of him are left, what is his own and what is Scar, what is the universe tasting itself, reading its own code, what is the love and the darkness you fight and the light you seek.

It’s all gone, isn’t it?

He sets the skull down. The replica decides to rot.

[wisteriashouse]

Can you write hcs for Gyomei and Sanemi with a fem reader if they had a family.

characters: himejima gyomei, shinazugawa sanemi

genre: fluff, family;

a/n: the idea of sanemi having a kid makes me cry i apologise because his was so long i’m lowkey tempted to turn it into a fic

himejima gyomei

big gentle giant would be the perfect dad

he’s had experience taking care at the kids at the orphanage when he was younger, so he has a soft, tender spot for young children

*except kaigaku fuck that kid*

when he found out that you were pregnant with his child, he cries (of course), but in a different way

it’s not just the usual tears streaming down his face, his huge chest heaves quietly with emotion and you tear up yourself at the sight, wrapping your arms around him

as a pillar of the demon slayer corps, gyomei has lived life knowing that he might not make it to the next day

so the fact that you’re building a family together with him makes him think about the future, and it’s this fact that really hits him - that muzan has truly been defeated, and that he can finally live in peace now

would be extremely cautious the first time he holds his child in his arms, asking you to help place his fingertips on the baby’s cheeks so that he can feel their features without hurting their delicate eyes

it’s like he’s holding porcelain - he’s so cautious

so small. so delicate. it’s like he’s holding a treasure in his hands, he thinks. 

cries again (of course)

“he/she looks like you, gyomei,” you whisper, and gyomei’s breath catches in his chest, emotion stifling his words in his throat

“is that so?” he whispers back, as if afraid that he will disturb the baby if he’s too loud. his huge hand gently clasps the baby’s tiny hand in his own

probably wants a large family - about five kids or more

helps a lot with housework and general child rearing

insane dad reflexes/paternal instincts

petty squabble ongoing? gyomei knows. temari ball in the lake? gyomei’s already rising to his feet to get it. baby trying to eat a lizard? gyomei’s reaching for it before you can scream at the sight.

his kids love his amazing strength - it’s not uncommon to see them clambering over him and hanging from his arms like he’s a tree in the backyard

his children become excellent climbers

generally a gentle, soft spoken but stern father, his voice carries authority even though he never raises it

dedicated to instilling moral values, being compassionate and kind in every one of his children

he’s an amazing role model for his kids

a shoulder that they can cry and rely on

shinazugawa sanemi

desperately wants a family of his own

for so many years, sanemi has fought tooth and claw to bury this quiet desire in his chest with the excuse that he has no time to think about starting a family, not when demons run amok killing innocents, not when he might die any day, any second

but after the war, when seasons gradually pass and fresh wisteria begin to bloom at the ubuyashiki estate once more, covering the ashes from the explosion on the night of the final battle, sanemi can’t help but begin to think about the future

with you, he dares to hope for happiness

he doesn’t actively try for a child, part of him is still reluctant in so many ways. most of the time he beds you, sanemi tries not to think too much about it

so he’s shocked when he finds out that you’re with his child

when he hears the news, sanemi doesn’t know quite how to feel - all he knows is that his hands are trembling and cold sweat dots his brow - he hasn’t felt this afraid in a long, long time

he has a child. it’s his child, his flesh and blood, a gift from the heavens from your union

and he’s terrified

what if something happens during the pregnancy stage? what if something happens to the child? what if something happens to you? sanemi has already lost so many people - he cannot lose you and this unborn child of his that he hasn’t even seen with his own eyes

it would destroy him

this man has a severe case of emotional constipation so he tries to keep mum about it after a while, but you notice, of course

you work out what’s going on after a bit and have a serious talk with him about it, telling his to believe in your future together

extremely protective over you during the pregnancy, flat out refusing that you do anything strenuous during this critical period - you have to fight to get the broom back from him so that you can actually do something around the house

will throw hands with someone who so much as breathes wrong in your direction

sanemi pls calm down

during the actual childbirth, he’s forced to wait outside while you birth the child

tomioka - tomioka, of all people - is the one who sits by his side without a word, and for once, sanemi appreciates his presence

he prays desperately to any god out there, please, let your childbirth be a safe one, please, let your child come out alright, please-

it goes fine

when sanemi holds the baby in his scarred arms for the first time, he’s completely wordless, tracing his fingers delicately over the baby’s little forehead, brow, nose, lips

you’re a little worried if you broke something in him, but when the newborn grasps sanemi’s finger in their hand tightly, you see sanemi’s back shudder

five second later he’s trembling with the force of his sobs, fighting to keep them down but fat tears are falling down his cheeks as emotion washes and crashes over him

you laugh tiredly in the bed at the sight, and all sanemi manages to choke out is “... they’re ugly as fuck...”

“they look like you, that’s why”

after the childbirth sanemi relaxes significantly, but he’s still very worried about you and the child

contrary to what he says sanemi doesn’t think he’s seen a more beautiful sight

a strict dad, but would have very soft spots for daughters

10/10 overprotective dad

would encourage his kids to throw hands with whichever asshole dares to mess with them, teaches them to throw hands since the day they’re toddlers

“sanemi they can barely walk!!”

“hah? if they can walk they can swing-”

sneaks them treats when he thinks you’re not watching

his kids grow up a little rough, but with a strong sense of justice they get from watching their father

god he’s such a grumpy man but they see the way he treats the weak, elderly and children, with awkward gentleness and fierce protectiveness

they definitely get a family dog!! maybe a shiba inu or a golden retriever

when they’re younger, sanemi finds it a little difficult to connect with them due to his crude tongue, which can lead to conflict and arguments about him seeming unsympathetic

in this aspect, you’ll have to step in to bridge the gap

his children love him dearly, because no matter how barbed his tongue or how rough his personality, it’s difficult to deny just how much he cares about them, even if they want to

his kids love teasing him once they’re a little more grown up, trying to make him admit how soft he actually is

he loves them to bits and would do anything for them

the one thing he hates about them though is how much they like their uncle tomioka too

[roscgcld]

HEADCANON + VARIOUS || when their siblings are evil

request: Hello, I was kinda wondering how would Gojo, Itadori and megumi react to a their younger sibling being evil but she has a reason to being that way. [Headcanon] -

note: hmm - this one is really interesting! honestly i had never thought about their reactions if their younger siblings are evil! this was an entirely new idea to me, so i definitely enjoyed writing something like this

characters: gojo satoru, itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi

pronouns: she/her

GOJO SATORU

in this sense, I feel it’s not that shocking that if his younger sister joined forces with geto

if you weren’t born with the Six Eyes like your older brother, your clan will just treat you like a slave - like maki was treated when she was in the zen’in clan 

after years of abuse and being told that you were a mistake, and that you shouldn’t have been born, and that you were a waste of space - that might crack you and made you go insane

gojo might have known this might happen, and had tried to move you away from the path of evil - because i feel like he would be a good older brother and shower you in all the love you deserve

he’d shower you in love and respect, getting you new clothes even if your parents tell him not to, spoil you rotten and even training you to use your powers under the cover of darkness

but sometimes it just isn’t enough though, and the emotional wounds are just too deep to heal - and he gets that

feel like he might end up blaming himself - what kind of older brother can’t protect his own baby sister? how can he call himself ‘the strongest’ when he can’t even protect the one person that he was born to protect?

screw the world - he’s your older brother. he should have seen the signs and stopped you from doing what you do

at the same time, he knows the reason why you left - you were sick and tired of the higher ups and their backwards thinking

the elders of your clan, the elders of other clans, the higher ups who control the jujutsu world - you hate them all, and you strive for the change that gojo wants to do as well. but with how you’ve been put down your entire life, and how underdeveloped your skills are, you went the only route you know - a route that strays you away from all you’ve ever known

if anything, he’s sort of proud - since along the way, geto definitely takes you under his wing and teaches you to unlock all the potential of your power - which will be a huge slap to the face for the rest of the clan and the higher ups

feel like he doesn’t have it in him to really take you down if he needs to, since he can see through you no matter what - how you’re scared to be on the run, how you hate being away from your older brother, how you know that you have innocent blood on your hands

yet you can’t leave, you’re in too deep now. and if you return, who exactly is there to stop the higher ups from killing you like they so desperate want to for so long?  

he’d probably spare you out of all the sorcerers that the higher-ups have branded as traitors, because at the end of the day you’re still his baby sister

and no matter how twisted your views of getting to your goal has become, you two still strive for the same thing - and that is to rid the jujutsu world of people like them

plus, if he was being honest, he’d want to keep you around as a slap to the higher ups still lol; the biggest middle finger he can give to them is by keeping you alive for as long as possible

ITADORI YUJI

yuji, being the sunshine he is, would not have known why you decided to leave for the other side of the war

it wasn’t his fault - if anything, he was the best older brother to be around. he’s what people dreamed of when they think of having an older brother

he took care of you, make sure you and your grandfather was fed, made sure you didn’t need to worry about trivial things like money or when the pay the bills - you just focus on being happy and that’s all that he needs in return

feel like the reason why you left was more because of manipulation - if you can just grow stronger, you can protect yuji from getting executed. that you can make a better world for the both of you, that you two can one day live in a happy world where curses and sorcerers were far behind you

of course yuji will be upset - he doesn’t see the appeal of the other side, and always advocates for you to realise how geto and the other curses are using you for their own benefit 

why would you give up your freedom to fight on the other side?

he’d be conflicted - this was the little girl who he used to braid her hair and cook for every day, the girl who he brought up from young to become the headstrong woman you are today. his best friend and the only person he can truly rely on during the darkest of times

how can he put that aside and hunt you down like you’re a prized animal in a hunting competition?

he’d wonder if he was a good brother to you too as well - wondering if he wasn’t giving you enough attention growing up, not as good as he thought he was at splitting his time for you

it’d take a lot of convincing from his friends that it wasn’t his fault, that you were being manipulated into thinking that this was the only way you can turn to in order to help him

since neither of you were really sorcerers to begin with - being thrown into a world where power dictates how you are treated would push anyone into a corner 

he’d use that to probably train harder - to show you that you didn’t need to do the things you are doing to make sure he’s safe, that he can protect both you and him with ease

that you two can go back to how things were before all this

if you two ever meet in battle, i don’t think he’d be able to handle it - he’d be hesitate when it comes to hitting you with full power, since he didn’t want to kill you by accident

the last he needs is to have your death on his conscience

throughout the entire battle he might still try to convince you that it isn’t too late, that you can return back to jujutsu tech and learn from the best of the best, with a warm roof over your heads and friends you can really rely on 

he’d stand in the way between you and any curse that tries to take you out, making sure that if either of you are to continue living, it’d be you

he’d lay his life down for you, even though he knows you’ve taken many innocent ones while getting to where you are today 

he still has all the love of an older brother, and nothing people say or do will waiver the vow he took when he first held you in his arms - that he was going to protect you no matter what

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

with megumi, i can see why as well - you were abandoned at a young age, growing up watching your father working with all kinds of shady people

so it was natural for you to fall down the same path; since no one was really there to teach you right from wrong 

i feel like megumi might have tried, and he really did try to show you that going down the path your father did was not the best idea - but how much can he do as a young child?

he probably feels more guilty as time goes by - child or not, he was your older brother, he should have tried harder to show you where you could have put that skill

wouldn’t breath a word about your existence to anyone, not because he doesn’t want to be associated with you. it’s more so your name will not be as well known as geto suguru - that maybe, there was a chance that the higher-ups might overlook you and you can sneak back in without causing too much waves

but the entire time, he might harbour all the guilt from not trying hard enough as a child to convince you that going to jujutsu tech was the best way to get stronger and show the zen’in clan that your father wasn’t a ‘waste of an heir’

the first time his friends will even find out you were an actual person is when you would run into them whilst you’re on a job - kill a target your client gave to steal some documents that they view as valuable

you didn’t notice them until you felt someone staring at you, to which you turn to face the person - ready to threaten to scoop their eyeballs out

“oh, hi nii-chan.” you’d greet with a casual grin as he stared at you in shock, nobara and yuji looking between the both of you curiously. “didn’t think i’d see you ever again.”

yuji and nobara might talk to you like you’re a normal person, but they kept their guards up still - something you found amusing, but still answering their question truthfully 

megumi knew better - unfortunately you’re branded as an underground criminal, and if possible, any available sorcerer that bumps into you is to kill you before you accidentally reveal the existence of sorcerers and curses

however, no matter how hard he wills himself, he can’t do it - you’re still his flesh and blood. you may have chosen a path that’s different from his, but deep down you’re still living true to yourself

you’d glance over and see the conflict brewing in his eyes, to which you’d give him a soft smile before you lean over to grab his hand in his, causing him to snap his eyes up at you

“do what you think is right.”

with that you pulled away, and with another wave to the group, you melted into the crowd; somehow managing to disappear before their eyes

both his friends will be confused, looking around for you while he stared down at the hand you had grabbed, a slightly faraway look on his face

he’d probably realise that if anything, you’re living true to yourself and allowing yourself to fly so far ahead that you’ve slowly started to outshine any of them prior to this

and he’d feel weirdly proud, because you were still his baby sister, and you still achieved things that are worth being proud of 

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[nightowlfandom]

Yandere! Corrupt Angel! Keigo Takami X Demon! Reader- Episode 1/3: The Same Side Of A Coin

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Hey friends.....this is a ride Theres talkings of suicide, sinning, degredation, heaven vs hell and religious themes. You’ve been warned.

Leggo

...

You stood in the middle of the dancefloor, staring around the room. Once a year heaven and hell would come together and host the gala of the century. The Dark One and The Holy One would set aside their differences one day out of the year and host a party bringing both their children together for a huge affair.

Every demon and angel across the nine realms would show up. The beautiful, the ethereal, and the not so beautiful too. You watched as each leader sat respectfully on their thrones.

You watched as The Dark One looked over his people. It was times like this you admired the man. Your soul had mistakenly fallen to the pits of hell when an angel who wouldn’t do their job correctly denied your entry to heaven. You were given special treatment as a result.

The other demons knew you didn’t do anything wrong and they didn’t hold it against you. In fact, the other demons treated you like a kid sister. They never let you near any real demon business. 

“Ah, Young Y/N! Come!” The Dark One waved you over. “There’s someone you must meet my child.” 

“Yes, Sir!” you gave a thumbs up from the crowd. “Excuse me, Pardon me.” you shimmied through the crowd. You caught the eye of many angels. The other demons spoke highly of you, saying how the feather freaks would be lucky to have you...they were right.

You wore a black gown, with a pretty decorative necklace. Your wrists were decorated in beautiful lace cuffs that matched the rings on your right hand.

“Y/N, my word you look beautiful as ever.” The Dark One praised. “I want you to meet-”

“The Holy One, I know you...my family speaks...spoke-” you corrected yourself. “Highly of you.”

“Y/N, as I live and breathe. Old Goat Face wasn’t kidding.”

“Oh shut up and fix your bedsheet, Cloud Breath.”

You giggled as the two argued like siblings. 

“Y/N, I would like to personally apologize. I’m afraid some of my children can be quite...elite about who the let through the gates.”

You remember being thrown down the stairs, falling for a while, then landing next to a lake of lava. Of course that was a while ago.

“It’s okay...not like I was the purest soul in the world anyways.” you shrugged. 

“Sin does not define you my child, I’m sure your heart would have landed you here with me had a different angel been working that day.”

That didn’t change the fact that you were booted to hell. No one could change that even if they wanted to.

“Ah! Keigo My boy! Over here!” You watched as The Holy One waves someone over. You kept your eyes on the Dark One.

“How are you holding up, dear?”

“I’m well.” you bowed respectfully. “Sorry for not socializing enough.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, my dear girl. As long as you are enjoying yourself.”

You smiled, about to reply when a new body came into the picture. A tall man, in a black tuxedo strode up to you, the dark, and the holy One. he was obviously an angel from his golden thin rimmed halo hanging above his head of sandy brown hair. Only instead of white wings, his were blood red. They were unlike any you’ve ever seen before. You had never seen a higher level angel before in the flesh.

“Y/N, Triple 6....this is Keigo.”

“Nice to meet you, man. Don’t let twinkle toes tell you anything about us. Demons aren’t so bad. Y/N here is proof of that.”

“Y/N huh?” you finally met his sharp eyes. His gaze held yours for what felt like an eternity. His smug expression slightly faltered as he stared at you. His lips parted slightly at the sight of you. Never in all his days had he seen such a low level demon hold such a high priestess appearance. “I’m...charmed to meet you.”

“Likewise.” you bowed your head respectfully. You had noticed a few select demons getting near you. All the upper levels seemed to glare at this Keigo person with intense hate and you were positive it wasn’t just because of the color differences. 

“You don’t have horns.”

“Excuse me?” you raised an eyebrow.

“You have no horns.” he said again, a smirk teasing his lips.

You moved your hair from in front of your forehead to reveal two little bone-ish stubs. They weren’t sharp, nor prominent like the higher-ups. You remembered the others saying you needed horns that fit you just right. They would grow...eventually. 

“Hm, Keigo, Y/N...why don’t you two go on the dancefloor?” The Holy One asked.

“With this asshole? No thanks.” you rolled your eyes. “You think just because your higher up than me, you can disrespect me?” you crossed your arms. (Read more below the break)

...

“Disrespect. Dear girl, it was merely an observation!” he looked amused at your anger.

“Don’t you smile at me.” you seethed. “I know a pompous ass when I see it.”

“Y/N, do try and calm yourself.” The Dark One put a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it with malice.”

“Come on. What do you say.” he held out his hand. He winked.

“Only because I refuse to say no to a God twice.” you seethed.

Everyone watched as Keigo, wings spread crossed the dancefloor with you on his arm. You obviously weren’t too happy, given your first impression had already down down the drain. 

He’d better not touch Y/N if he knows what’d good for him,

Keigo of all people, dancing with a demon doesn’t surprise me.

You tried to ignore the gossip as a hand rested at the base of your spine. Keigo looked down at you, his smugness unwavering as he began move with you to the music. It was a low, slow jazzy tune with what could be described as a ‘sensual piano’ melody. 

“I really didn’t mean it the way you took it, doll.” he whispered in your ear. “But you’ve got fire, I respect that.”

“I..I’m sorry.” you sighed. “I’m just...used to people degrading me because-”

“This is so new to you.” he finished, his smile slightly faltering. “I was like that too, thousands of years ago.”

“Well I’m on year two so-” you scoffed. “It’s not that bad...I guess. Hell isn’t as bad as the books say it is.”

“Well heaven isn’t all clouds and rainbows either, doll. I’ve been banished so many times I’ve lost count.”

“Banished? I don’t understand.” you tilted your head to the side.

Keigo could see what was left of your innocent aura hanging around you. Most people who fell into the pits of hell were already long gone with no trace of human emotion or attachment. You...were different. It reminded him of...himself once upon a time.

“I’ve gone rogue. They tried to restrain me but they give keep giving me chances.” he shook his head. “That’s the think about the Cloud Kingdom, dear. They refuse to believe there are bad people in the world.” 

“Is that why...your wings are-”

‘No...that’s more of a stylistic choice...can’t let all those souls go to waste can I?” he winked. “Red suits me don’t you think.”

“Y-yes.” you replied honestly, finding it hard to lie. 

“So what about you?” he raised an eyebrow. Among the hum of the other patrons and the music, not to mention your demonic heart thumping loudly against your chest you felt Keigo’s breath on the shell of your ear. It was like he was telling you a secret. “What brings you to the pits...killing an ant by accident?”

“My application for the gates was apparently denied.”

“No why would that be.” you don’t look like the type to sin.

“Trust me.” you shook your head. “I’ve sinned more times than I can count...I guess putting a bullet in my head was the last straw.”

Keigo’s breath hitched in his throat as you told your story. You...you shot yourself? Such a small thing? You weren’t a murderer, or god forbid anything else. He felt himself silently fill with rage. You had the glow of an angel that was for sure.

“I’ve come to terms with it. Guess I wasn’t worthy.” you shrugged.

“You are always worthy.” he abruptly cut you off. “It’s these white wear wearing, cloud riding fuckers that aren’t worthy.” he seethed. ‘What other sins could you have possibly committed.”

“...The Dark One hasn’t told you?...I’m a lust demon in training.” you explained. “I used sex to fill voids when I was alive. When I couldn’t replace my pain with pleasure...kapow!” you put your fingers to your head and faked a gunshot.

“Lust demon?” Keigo raised an eyebrow. “That explains why you look so sexy tonight.” he flirted.

“Are you hitting on me?” your eyes widened.

“Depends. Do you like it?”

You hadn’t noticed that Keigo body was flush against yours. Skin to skin. You felt warm, scorching hot beneath him. That was the demon fire. 

“Y-yeah.” you nodded. “I do...wow-” you stepped back from him and fanned yourself. 

“Is everything alright?” Keigo stepped forward and laced his hands in yours. 

“What have you done to our sister?” a high priestess demoness waltzed up. She glared at Keigo who seemed unfazed, only raising an eyebrow. “Y/N, Dear are you alright?”

“I don’t know.” your chest heaved. “I feel- so...” you partially moaned.

“What has this angel scum done to our sister.” a male demon stormed up. He unfurled his dragon-esque wings. “Sister Y/N, say something.”

“I need air...I have to go outside.” you immediately walked away. Keigo, in a confused state watched you walk away.

“Sister Y/N is unwell! We must go after her.”

“She’ll be fine, we’ll know if she’s in trouble.”

Call it instinct, but he had to follow you.

[gojo-x-reader]

Red String of Fate

Relationship(s): Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

Warnings: slight swearing, slight manga spoilers

Tags: Soulmate AU

AO3 Link: here

Words: ~2.3k

Request:  “Hello I'm actually not sure if I'm supposed to put put my request here? well, if its not supposed to be here, then please ignore it. Anyways, can I ask of you to share your thoughts on Soulmate AU w/ Gojo around 12 to 16 yrs old where he can see signs of who's soulmate is whos meeting his possible fiance who turns out to be his soulmate (I asked that age bc first meeting! he's from a noble clan and its really weird he doesn't have fiance or something) Sorry if its confusing and Thank you!”

Gojo Satoru was twelve years old when his Six Eyes began showing him the red strings of fate. Every person’s string was different. Some of them stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, almost seemingly never reaching the other end. Others were shorter, connected to the person they stood next to (whether they knew of their existence or not). And unfortunately, on some, Satoru could see the end of the string, but it dragged behind someone, unconnected to another human.

Satoru had told his mother about the strings as they appeared. Those are strings that lead one to their soulmate, she had explained to him. Everyone has a soulmate, but not everyone is in love with theirs. There are different kinds of love in this world.

Satoru’s parents were soulmates, but they did not love each other; that much was clear from how his father treated his mother. He never hit her or anything, but he didn’t treat her like an equal; more of a vessel that gave birth to an heir. He only interacted with his wife when necessary, the two not even sleeping in the same room at night.

For that reason, Satoru was scared to meet his own soulmate. He had one, that much was clear by the bright red string tied around his left pinky that stretched on for kilometers. He didn’t want to end up like his parents.

Gojo Satoru was fourteen years old when his father announced that he would be marrying you, a girl from the Kamo clan. You were the youngest daughter in the secondary branch of the family, just a year younger than him. Tomorrow, the two of you would meet for the first time.

You were nervous about tomorrow, for several reasons. Number one, you had heard the rumors about Gojo Satoru--the first member of the Gojo clan to be born with the Six Eyes and  Limitless, the two inherited techniques of his clan, in a hundred years or so. That meant, in a nutshell, he was much stronger than you could ever hope to be, as someone who hadn’t even inherited the Kamo clan technique (which is why you were being shipped off to another clan). Number two, you had heard rumors of his personality, somehow both cold and carefree at the same time, but one hundred percent a horrible personality to be combined with your timid and quiet nature. And number three, you almost resented him because now you were stuck in an arranged marriage and you saw how well that worked out for your parents.

Tomorrow arrived, and the maids dressed you up in the finest of kimonos, hair ornaments, and even makeup. You weren’t particularly into girly interests, more interested in training for when you enter Kyoto High in a few years; the feeling of foundation and lipstick felt foreign on your face.

You arrived at the main hall, escorted by your uncle (the head of the Kamo family), your parents, and a few maids. You normally didn’t wear a kimono often, except for very special occasions, and you have never been in one for this long. Graceful, you were not, and tripped a few times because of the geta chosen for you to wear with the kimono. Each time, the maids were swift to grab ahold of your arms and stabilize you. They even helped you sit down as you awaited your future fiance and his parents.

Gojo Satoru’s parents arrived before he did. They apologized on behalf of their son, citing that he was on he was back from a mission. You were jealous, he wasn’t even in high school yet and was already being assigned missions. While you weren’t powerful in comparison to Gojo Satoru himself, you could still hold your own against your older cousins and had a decent amount of cursed energy.

Gojo Satoru’s parents seemed nice enough, but the chemistry between them resembled that of your own parents; they tolerated each other, but that was it--no love, no spark, nothing. You wondered if his parents were also put into an arranged marriage. You could sympathize, but you also secretly hoped that the two of you wouldn’t end up like your parents.

You poured tea for your future in-laws, hands shaking slightly, a few drops of tea spilling. As you sat the teapot down, in came Gojo Satoru himself, dressed in a simple black kimono, but the sash was not tied tightly. His hair was touseled, and stained with either dirt or blood (you hoped it was dirt). Despite his unkempt look, he was gorgeous, with bright white hair and eyes blue like the sky matching neither of his parents. Despite the color differences, he took mostly after his mother with her soft features.

When he made eye contact with you, he froze, looking down at his left hand, and then back to you. Before you could even greet him, he immediately fled the room, both his parents calling after him, leaving after him.

That was a bit painful; your first time meeting him and he leaves immediately seeing your face. You weren’t sure how your self-esteem would recover after that blow.

About twenty minutes later, Gojo Satoru’s parents came back, empty-handed without their son. He refused to meet you, but they promised he would come around eventually. So, your family said your goodbyes and left the Gojo estate.

Once your family arrived back at the Kamo estate, your uncle slapped you across the face, blaming you for what transpired with the Gojo family. It was your looks, your lack of femininity that obviously scared your fiance away. Not even makeup or the finest materials could fix it.

So what, if you weren’t “feminine”? Being “feminine” doesn’t exorcise curses, now does it?

You grumbled an apology, leaving to your room and locking the door behind you. You started crying, ruining the makeup that took the maids hours to do, but not even bothering to care. It took a while to get out of the kimono, but you changed into sweatpants and a large T-shirt and left the offensive material on the floor. Neither of your parents bothered to check in on you, but the head maid did. She cleaned up your makeup and brought you some of your comfort foods. She was more of a mother to you than your own, and you were always grateful for her in your life.

The next time you would meet Gojo Satoru, there would be hell to pay for embarrassing you like this.

Gojo Satoru was sixteen years old when he next met his fiancee, this time on the battlefield rather than mitigated by their families. Kyoto was short by one for the Kyoto Goodwill Event, so you were allowed to join as the sole first year. You were glad for the opportunity because that meant you could finally pay back Gojo Satoru for the embarrassment you felt two years ago.

You were told you had great potential as a jujutsu sorcerer, already being promoted to Semi-Grade 2 as you entered Kyoto High. Of course, you weren’t even close to your fiance who was promoted immediately to Special Grade upon entering Tokyo High. While the power difference between a Semi-Grade 2 and a Special Grade was immense, you weren’t going to let that stop you. You held a lot of pain in your heart for how Gojo Satoru rejected you from one glance, refusing to ever see you again that day.

This was Gojo Satoru’s first Goodwill Event, as last year he was only a first-year and the spots were full from the second and third years last year. Since last year, Kyoto had won, the event was held at your school. Not a single second or third year at Kyoto believed they even had a chance to win this year, as Tokyo has not one but two Special Grade students this year participating in the event. There was only one Grade 1 sorcerer on the Kyoto side, a third-year, while the others were a Grade 2 or Semi-Grade 2. The goal was to stick together; power in numbers. While the two monsters Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru could take out the entire Kyoto team singlehanded most likely, the others on the Tokyo team were rather weak, at only Grade 3.

So, the Kyoto side would stick together, avoid conflict. The goal was to exorcise curses, not necessarily fight each other.

The six of you stuck together, exorcising curse after curse. It was strange, as several minutes passed and you hadn’t even encountered one of the Grade 3 Tokyo sorcerers. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stick up, then a voice behind you announcing, “Hello~”

You turned around quickly, barely able to avoid an attack. There he was, Gojo Satoru in the flesh. He was much, much taller than last time you saw him, now towering over you like a tree. On his (admittedly) handsome face was a smug grin, his bright baby blues peeking out behind round black shades. He held his hands in his pockets in a carefree manner. Almost not like he just attacked you and your senpai.

You glanced back briefly. While you were somehow lucky to avoid the attack from your fiance, your senpai behind you was not. The attack left them unconscious, back against a tree and blood running down their head.

While reading headfirst toward your fiance probably was not a good idea, only rage flowed through your head. You may not have inherited your clan’s cursed technique, you inherited a similar technique but more closely to your mother’s Zenin clan’s technique. You could manipulate shadows, not to summon shikigami, but rather to form weapons.

You summoned the shadows to form a sword, raising it to strike Gojo Satoru. But it reached just centimeters away from his body before stopping, almost like an invisible forced kept it in place, unable to move it further. You stared at your hand in surprise.

“Now, now, is that any way to greet your fiance?” Gojo Satoru asked, grin widening.

“Are you really though?” You asked, jumping back cautiously before he could ready another attack. “You didn’t even want to meet me two years ago.”

He placed his hand onto his chin in thought. “Hmm, I suppose that’s true. Tell you what, land a hit on me and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Bastard,” you called to him, switching your shadow weapon to a bow and arrow, pulling back the shadow string, and releasing it toward him.

Gojo Satoru held up two fingers as the arrow stopped in mid-air, much like your sword earlier. “I don’t think that’s my name, sweetie. Bad luck for you today. Seems like we’re just a bad match.”

You were frustrated. How the hell was he doing that?

A siren sounded out through the forest. The match was over; Tokyo won, only because Gojo Satoru had distracted the Kyoto group while Geto Suguru handled the stranglers and the remaining Grade 3 sorcerers were able to exorcise more curses than your side.

Gojo Satoru disappeared before your eyes, but you heard a whisper in your ear from him, “I’m feeling generous. An hour before the individual matches tomorrow, meet me in the garden. I’ll explain everything.”

So, that’s how you found yourself out in the garden at 8 am, shivering from the morning chill. The garden was huge, but somehow you figured your fiance would be able to find you.

“Yo,” he called out, startling you from your thoughts. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“I don’t think highly of you,” you admitted. “You embarrassed me two years ago and my uncle thinks I’m a disgrace to the family now.”

“Yikes, that seems a little harsh. Not like I annulled the engagement or anything. I just was going through some good ole teenage angst then, nothing more.”

“Still going through some ‘teenage angst’?” you questioned.

“Oh, you know, just the normal amount. I died a few months ago and it reset me back to typical teenage angst levels.”

“You what? ”

“But that’s a whole different story. We’re talking about why I left two years ago after seeing you.” He brought a finger up to his lips. “This is top secret. Can’t tell anyone.”

You nodded.

“So, my Six Eyes. I’m sure you’ve heard all about them, being in the Kamo clan and all. It turns out I can also see the red string of fate that brings soulmates together. My parents are soulmates, but they have a shitty relationship.”

“Okay.” You could relate, your parents also have a shitty relationship.

“And they’re the only pair of soulmates I’ve ever known. So,” he grasped his left pinky in yours, “when I saw that red string of mine connect to yours, I panicked. Didn’t want to be forced into a relationship with my own soulmate and end up like my parents. Call me a sappy romantic, but I wanted to meet you and get to know each other on our own, not because we’re in an arranged marriage.”

You couldn’t help but blush. Here was Gojo Satoru, your fiance, one of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers in the world, proclaiming that you were his soulmate. It seemed ridiculous, but you didn’t think he was lying. Suddenly, all the resentment for that time a few years ago left.

You took your pinky out of his, looking away from him in embarrassment, then stated, “There’s nothing that says we can’t do all that while still being engaged. Lets.” You took a deep breath, looking straight at those brilliant blue eyes past his sunglasses, then continued. “Let start over. Get to know each other the right way and see where this takes us.”

He grinned. It was the first time you saw him smile with pure happiness behind it. “I like that idea, soulmate.”

[saintobio]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

love, always. (8)

↳ oikawa tooru x f!reader

description: 3 years since the accident and you’ve regained most of your memories back, but there’s still one missing puzzle piece that only your boyfriend’s best friend can complete. the question is, will you let him?

genre: angst, past lovers, amnesia

warnings: suggestive themes

a/n: this whole chapter made me warm and fuzzy. i hope u guys like it 🥺

previous

flashback - the week before

“You know you’re the last person I wanna see right now, right?”

Oikawa knew that Iwaizumi was going to say it brutally straight to his face, but that wouldn’t stop him at trying to mend things to save their friendship. He told himself that he could never give up on family and for Oikawa, Iwa wasn’t just a friend but a brother. A brother that he didn’t want to lose.

“You can punch my face if you want to,” Oikawa offered, apologetically.

It seemed to have riled the other guy up as he grabbed him by the shirt in immediate response. “I’m not joking around.”

“I’m not, either,” Oikawa insisted with a deadpanned expression. “Do it.”

He was ready to take the full hit that could potentially ruin his face, probably break a nose or bust a lip open. Surely, his best friend would feel some satisfaction out of smashing his face in exchange for the pain he went through because of a girl they both loved.

Well, it didn’t happen.

Iwaizumi chose to release him after taking a deep breath, turning around, and raising his arms over his head while he battled with his own thoughts.

And it took a good minute of silence, probably more, until he decided to speak again.

“I’m breaking up with her.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened greatly because he didn’t expect that. “Iwa.”

The guy turned to face him with a pained expression. “I’m not doing it for you.”

“I know, but...”

Iwaizumi refused to listen. “I want her to be happy. That’s the only conclusion I have for this situation. You know that between the two of us, someone has to take a step back and it has to be me. I’m doing this for her.”

Oikawa was reminded of the day he asked Iwaizumi if he loved you and he answered with ‘more than my life’—this was it. This was the very moment that proved it. He was putting your happiness over his own.

“I’m not stupid,” Iwa added. “I know you felt betrayed when you came back and found out I was dating her, but you still didn’t treat me differently. You didn’t show any slight bitterness.”

Tooru gave him a solemn gaze. “You’re my brother.” Not by flesh and blood, but definitely greater than that. He wanted him to know that the bond they had would never be broken over whoever you end up choosing.

The latter displayed a sad smile. “I’ll tell you this. Even when we were already together, even when her memories of you were completely erased, it felt like she was still never mine. It felt like her heart was constantly searching for you,” he explained. “Do you know how pathetic I was to turn a blind eye on it?”

No, the fact that Tooru had no idea that he was feeling that way had totally caught him off guard because if anything, he thought you had really forgotten about your past at some point.

And yet, Iwa had seen it all. “You don’t know how many times she unconsciously called for your name in her sleep even when she doesn’t remember you.”

Oikawa was utterly stupefied at all these information that he was hearing. “I didn’t think she’d ever remember me.”

“The mind forgets but the heart remembers,” Iwaizumi told him, almost in an informing way. “That’s what I warned myself with when I was catching feelings for her. I knew her heart was always with you.”

‘The mind forgets but the heart remembers’.

How can a sentence sound simultaneously beautiful yet painful?

“Iwa, I’m sorry I put you in this situation,” he said in remorse to the other guy. “I know this will change our friendship forever and I hate that I caused it, but I want you to know I’ll always be indebted to you. For everything—for her smile, for being there for her, for allowing me to return to her life even if it hurts you.”

Iwaizumi kept a sullen but determined face. “Just so you know, I didn’t lose to you, Oikawa. I gave her up so you can have her.”

With a subtle smile on his lips, he responded, “I know.”

“You better.” The raven haired guy let out the breath he was holding. “One more thing, don’t ever try to hurt her or make her cry because if that happens, I’ll take her back and you’ll never have your chance again. I’d never allow it.”

Of course, he wouldn’t. This was the only chance that he had that he didn’t even knew he would have and Tooru Oikawa definitely would not take it for granted.

After risking his friendship with him and his undying feelings for you, the last thing on his mind was to do something that could potentially ruin you two again.

Even he, would not forgive himself if that ever happened.

“I won’t.”

———————————————————————

The transition from being with Iwa to being with Tooru was difficult in a sense that you knew you were hurting one while being with the other. You couldn’t get your mind off the expression on Hajime’s face when you finally moved out of your shared apartment—it was the kind of expression where he was smiling but you could tell he was hurting inside.

If only there was a choice where no one would get hurt.

“You’re spacing out,” Tooru noted as he looked up at you from your lap.

You two were spending your Sunday afternoon with a picnic date at the park because he wanted to relax and enjoy the serene weather with you. Just like old times.

You ran your fingers through his tousled brown locks and stared at his gorgeous face. His golden skin was glistening under the sunlight and with a loving gaze, you responded, “No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you are, baby. What’s on your mind?” he asked, beautiful long lashes fluttering as he looked at you.

“Nothing. I was just thinking of how Hajime’s doing right now,” you admitted candidly.

Well, obviously that would incite some jealousy from him but that wasn’t your intention. Thankfully, Tooru didn’t say anything against it but only muttered a “fair enough” to you.

“You miss him,” he later added.

Technically, yes and no. You did miss him somehow, just not in the way Oikawa was thinking of. “More like, I hope he’s doing fine or else I’ll feel guilty.” Which then reminded you, Mina was also another person subject to this identical heartache. “Oh, and I also feel bad that I never got to talk to Mina after the... you know.”

He took your free hand and intertwined it with his. “She said she was glad that she met you ‘cause she finally understood the reason why I couldn’t commit to anyone.”

You recalled the last talk you had with Mina and how she was hopelessly waiting for him to return her love, but didn’t happen because of you.

You hoped, you sincerely hoped, that Mina and Iwa would find their soulmates soon.

You threw a light punch on his chest. “You’re such a player.”

“Technically, I’m a professional player,” he retorted, wittily.

“This is why Makki bullies you.” You huffed in good humor. “I meant you’re such a playboy. You had so many girls back in Argentina, huh? ¿Son bonitas?”

The latter question caused him to burst into laughter. “Ellas son muy hermosas.”

“Fuck you.”

“They weren’t serious!” he then whined. “Baby, I don’t even look at anyone else when I’m with you.”

“As you should.” You playfully stuck your tongue out. “From what I remember, I used to get jealous easily.”

You barely recalled those exact moments but you somehow remembered that many girls often surrounded him in high school. They would usually flock around him, giving him letters, cookies, and other things that could win his heart.

There was an adorable chuckle coming out of Tooru’s mouth. “Yes, you get so jealous,” he confirmed, helping you remember.

Except, you weren’t sure if he was exaggerating the story to make it look like you were more in love with him than he was with you. What a jerk. “Don’t make things up!”

“It’s true, I swear!” His brown orbs were looking at you in full defense mode. “There was this time when you came to watch our game and you saw me being surrounded by a bunch of girls from other schools and we had a long argument after that!” He grinned at the recollection of memories. “I had to write my own love letters and put them in your locker every morning just to make it up to you.”

“That’s your fault,” you murmured, averting your eyes away.

He was quick to protest, “How is it my fault girls run after me?”

The ego. Christ, he was really still him.

“Let’s not forget how jealous you were when I talked to Kageyama,” you retaliated teasingly, recalling that one specific memory after their game in high school.

“The fuck, I’m not jealous of Tobio!” he quickly denied. “Never. I’m just reminding you that you’re mine.”

What a silly reason, but those moments were ultimately fun to reminisce about.

The mere fact that there were still many other things that happened before that you no longer remember made you sad because you knew that your memories of high school were mostly good ones and yet you could only look back on a few.

“You remember Takeru?” he suddenly inquired.

The name sounded familiar, however you shook your head no because you weren’t sure.

“My nephew,” he soon answered. “He got so much taller now.”

Oh. Takeru! His funny and adorable nephew that you two used to ‘babysit’. “Wait, yeah I remember. He’s more mature than you since then, to be honest.”

“Hell, no. He’s mean sometimes.”

“You deserve it,” you egged on, pinching his cheek before reaching down to kiss him. “Imagine if your child acts like you, I wonder who would win in an argument.”

“It depends ‘cause you’re the mom.” And he suddenly sat up straight, turning to you with a more serious look. “Speaking of, you wanna get married?”

Huh?

You looked at him with an odd smile. He surely asked that out of nowhere. “Tooru, is this a proposal?”

“A very crappy one, but yeah.” He reached for your hand again while looking at you solemnly. “I owe you a wedding. I just wanna continue where we left off.”

Hold on... “So you mean it for real or?”

The look on his face already gave you the answers you needed because he was dead serious. “Yes, I’m being for real. We can do it. We can get married on the same day we apply for a marriage license. There’s not much paperwork either and we already have a record when we applied for it before.”

“So, like a civil wedding?” You were concerned at how knowledgeable he was at this. For someone who ran away when you two almost eloped, this was interesting to see. Was he thinking about this all along?

“Yeah and it’s still completely valid,” he adviced, kissing the back of your hand. “Baby, I’ll still marry you properly when we figure things out—we can have that beach wedding you want and I’ll get you the most beautiful wedding gown in the world, we can fly to Argentina to get married or simply remarry here in Japan, whichever and wherever you prefer, we can plan it all out—I can marry you again and again, but right now I just can’t wait to make you my wife.”

Getting married in secret. The spontaneity. Just the two of you. Wasn’t that the very nature of your relationship after all? It was all about these carefree moments and last minute decisions and simply not giving a damn about what the future holds because you had each other and that was what all you needed.

Your heart was full because this was exactly you and him before the accident happened.

And he was right. Nothing else could give you two the assurance of having this everlasting bond until you’ve exchanged vows, wore your rings, and be pronounced as husband and wife.

You had no reason to hold back.

So with a grin, you gave him an answer, “Let’s do it.”

——————————————————��————

And you did do it.

With a day to spare in between, you managed to find the prettiest white dress you had while your groom took care of the rings and the remaining paperworks.

You never really knew that getting married in Japan was such an easy process because you didn’t remember how you two applied for the marriage license before the accident.

But asides that, no one else knew about this whole secret wedding except you and your husband-to-be. However, you two preferred it that way. Of course, like he said, you could plan a real grand wedding in the future, but you didn’t have to wait that long to actually get married.

Just like him, you were eager to be his wife, to share a life with him, and be his eternal partner.

And yet, despite the excitement you felt, you were also nervous and scared.

There was a strange feeling of anxiety eating your heart out at the thought that Oikawa could run away again like he did the last time. Perhaps that was a trauma you’ve had from the past, watching him leave you behind after promising a life together with you. It didn’t happen, at least intentionally, but thinking about how history could possibly repeat itself was making you all sorts of crazy.

You were already wearing your immaculate white a-line dress when you stood behind the doors of the chapel in extreme nervousness. This whole thing was giving you the crazy heebie-jeebies and you wished there was a way to calm yourself down. Your hands were already shaking when you held your bouquet until they opened the wide baroque doors.

He was there.

He was there at the altar waiting for his bride looking like he had just won the grandest prize in his life.

Not even an Olympic gold medal could amount to the expression he had when he saw you striding across the aisle on your way him.

For all you knew, marriage was a sacred bond.

There were 7 billion people in the world but you only get to marry one person. People would tell you to choose the right partner in order to live the best life—this was your best life.

You were in your seventh-heaven when you finally reached him and the two of you faced the officiant who would officially bless your marriage. Tooru couldn’t even help but take small glances at you because in his head, you knew he was all ‘that’s my wife right there’ and you wanted to chuckle at the thought.

The wedding began while your mind flew far away. No, not to someone else, but to the distant future. Although you didn’t know what your future would be like and yet you felt very secured because you wouldn’t have shared this moment with anyone else but Tooru Oikawa.

Ahh, and just the realization of you finally becoming an ‘Oikawa’ made butterflies erupt in your stomach. You could remember the dozens of teenage girls who once dreamed about this and you were the lucky one who turned it into a reality.

When you took a peek at the subject of your unconditional love, you realized that he was also peeking at you while mouthing ‘you look beautiful’. You wanted to say he looked gorgeous, too.

The two of you didn’t really prepare your vows beforehand. You tried scripting it last night but gave up because it was better to be raw and declare your love for him unrehearsed.

So when you faced each other to exchange vows, you were the first one who made an oath. “Tooru, I can’t ever describe how blessed I am to have you in my life. You are the breath of fresh air that I needed from the suffocating life I used to live. You are the light to my dark days when I’m in my roughest times. I know it wasn’t love at first sight for me, but the process of gradually falling in love with you was a phase in my life that I could repeat over and over again. I am the happiest when I’m with you and I promise that I will never take you for granted. I vow to be a loving wife who will honor you as my husband and the head of our future family. I vow to support you in all your ventures in life and be there with you every step on the way. I vow to listen to Maroon 5 with you, no matter which time of the day,” you paused, chuckling together as he squeezed your hands with tears brimming on the corner of his eyes. “I vow to always remember you, even if my memories would fade again. In this life and in the next, you are and will always be the person that I’ll love devotedly.”

What a relief it felt to successfully tell him your vows that came straight from the bottom of your heart. You meant every word you said and you were glad that Tooru seemed to have melted from your words.

It was a serious moment, but you wanted to let out a chuckle because his crying face was just adorable.

But before tears could spill from his eyes, he cleared his throat and started with his own vow, “Baby, I knew from the very moment I laid my eyes on you that you were my forever. I was determined to make you mine because I was sure that having you would make me feel victorious. And, it did. Having you made me the luckiest man in the world because no amount of Olympic gold medals could ever equate to the happiness I gained from loving you,” he halted from his speech to briefly kiss your hand. “We’ve been through so much for the past years but no matter how many more challenging times would come our way, I’d always find my home with you. I vow to be the best, and I mean the very best, husband in the world for you. I vow to never change and still be the same person you fell in love with even after ten, twenty, fifty years from now. I vow to stay by your side no matter what happens, nothing can break us apart. I vow to love, cherish, and protect you, holding only onto you forevermore.”

Whoever claimed that weddings were emotional was completely right. They were damn right.

The overwhelming emotions that you were pouring out to each other right now had basically proven that claim. You could never forget the beautiful brown eyes that stared at you with such love and passion after your declaration of love.

And to fully proclaim you as one, the officiant finally announced,

“Bride and Groom, you have heard the words about love and marriage, have exchanged your vows and made your promises, and celebrated your union with the giving and receiving of rings. It is at this time that I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant declared, “You may now kiss the bride!”

Although you have kissed him many times prior to this day, nothing could ever surpass the feeling of kissing each other on the day of your wedding.

It sealed the relationship you currently had, only transcending into something deeper, something more committted, and acknowledged by the eyes of God.

From this day forward, you were officially husband and wife.

———————————————————————

There was no reception to state the obvious. Instead, you two drove straight to the lakeside where you last celebrated your birthday with him back when you were younger.

It was his idea, naturally, to go to that place after your wedding because it just seemed like the perfect destination to rejoice on this very special day.

It really was perfect, especially that you two could watch the sunset together while showering yourselves with the euphoric feeling of being newlyweds.

“May I have this dance?” he asked out of nowhere as he offered his hand out to you.

There was no music to dance to but you still gladly took your husband’s hand. “Why, I would love to!”

Smiles have spread across your lips just as he held you in his arms, slow dancing to the nature’s sound. The birds chirping. The silent water flowing. The calming breeze.

“I don’t mind spendin’ every day,” he suddenly sang causing your heart to momentarily stop. “Out on your corner in the pouring rain.”

Of course, he would sing a Maroon 5 song.

The grin on your face and the gleam on your eyes were genuine and authentic. This very image of him singing and slow dancing with you as the sun sets for the day was an image imprinted on your head forever.

“I’m in love with you,” you both said in unison, surprising each other at the coincidental same choice of words.

But, at this point, it wasn’t even a coincidence. You two share the same heart after all.

“I have the most beautiful wife in the whole goddamn universe right now,” he declared wholeheartedly. “Tell me this is real.”

You giggled, pecking his lips. “What if it’s all just a figment of your imagination?”

His grip on your waist tightened. “I’ll manifest it until it becomes real.”

“What if I’m just the AI version of myself and the world is all just a simulation?” you egged on, beaming while you caressed his face.

“AI or not, you’re still my wife,” he answered with a huff. “And I’ll marry every version of you.”

“You’re sweet.”

“So sweet it makes you high.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Whatever.”

He uttered a low, deep chuckle that made your knees weak. That was truly, extremely sexy of him.

And as weak as you already were, he leaned closer to your ear and whispered, “I can’t wait to rip this dress off you tonight.”

———————————————————————

First things first, Tooru Oikawa never held back.

Not before, not now, not ever.

When he said he’d rip your dress off, he really did freaking rip your dress off and with so much ease at that. There were shoes and clothes carelessly discarded on the floor to your bedroom because he took off every piece of clothing that was getting on his way until he had you beautifully naked under him.

He kissed you in all the places he could think of, worshiping the way you taste, and absolutely delighting at the fact that he could once again remind you of just how much he loved every inch of you.

It felt like being in heaven and hell at once. You didn’t know that such a place existed at all.

Despite this man being already your husband, you were still shy around him during intimate moments like this. The way your palms pressed itself on his toned chest seemed like you were restraining him from getting any closer when actually, you wanted more. “Tooru... I-I want you....”

“Mm. What’s that?” he repeated with a smirk forming on his lips. Evil, truly evil. He was enjoying how vulnerable and desperate you were for him. “Say it again, baby.”

“I want you...” you slurred, pressing against him wantonly and the tables seemed to have turned with the sight of him being completely powerless from his increased sexual excitement. For a split second, he thought he was going to lose his mind. How could Tooru Oikawa be the luckiest man to hit jackpot with you?

“What wife wants, wife receives,” he joked amidst of this very intimate position which soon emitted a silent giggle out of you.

It suddenly hit you that making love with your very own husband was one of the best experiences you’ve had in your lifetime. Nothing could ever compare to this intimate moment you were sharing with your lifelong partner.

An “I love you,” came out of him while he breathed through your ear after your bodies took turn in giving pleasure to each other.

“I love you,” he repeated in a raspier voice. “I fucking love you.”

He was embedding this whole experience in your most vivid memories because you could never forget this night. You could never forget how you shared a harmonious moan at the release of ecstasy from being in one body, sharing one heart and soul.

Tooru soon collapsed to your side while catching his breath.

“Wow...” You were breathing heavily on your own and still in daze with the divine experience you’ve just had.

“Best sex ever,” he teased with a deep chuckle, pulling the duvet to cover your bodies. He then placed a soft kiss on your temple before hugging you. “You’re amazing.”

You gave him a weak smile as you cupped his cheek. “You are. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

“I love you mostest.”

You snorted. “Mostest isn’t a word!”

“Yes, it is!” he argued. “Because I said so.”

It was amazing how the mood turned around like he wasn’t a sex god just a few minutes ago.

“You’re so stupid but you’re mine,” you said, relaxing your body from his sweet cuddles.

There was a confused pout on his face. “Dunno if that’s a compliment but I’ll take it.”

“You should,” you replied, yawning after. “Good night, hubby.”

“Night, night,” he cutely responded. “I love you and I’ll never get tired of it.”

You, too, would never get tired of it.

[octania]

Nicolas Brown x Reader HEADCANONS

Word count: 1.7 k

Warings: smut, nsfw

Short description : How Nicolas would treat his s/o. His experience with women and ways of dealing with them in general. His way of seducing, falling in love, fucking... all the beautiful and sexy parts that come with this man.

______________________________________________________

His behavior has unfortunately often been misinterpreted because of his deadly abilities and sharp exterior, so it is no wonder that there are opinions of him not being able to understand and gain something like tender woman’s touch. His predatory gaze, strong hands mastering the katana as if it was a part of his body, movements of the speed of light that the prey does not even know it was mutilated the first few second... are not credible descriptions of his true personality.

From a young age, Nicolas knew nothing more than suffering, his body only knew multiple tortures and his eyes absorbed only barbarism. But instead of such an environment resulting in the destruction of his benevolent feelings, it only made him lock them deep inside, because feelings are a weakness, an Achilles heel, and someone in his kind of business can’t afford it.

 Even the biggest problem lay not in his reluctance to show his warm side, in fact, his constant concern for the weaker and going out of his frames of personality, which he normally shows only to cover those in need with his steel body, but his vast belief is that he is worth nothing, that he is just a killing machine and nothing more. He does not present his deepest sufferings and low opinion of his worth in front of others, he does not seek attention, because who could see anything more than a beast, when he himself sees nothing else?

Therefore, when his dark eyes would finally show interest in someone in a way that had been marked as impossible for him, the Pandora's box of his torments would open. Nicolas would watch you from afar, calm, curious, absorbing your every move and words from your lips, drowning in an unfamiliar sea of ​​feelings rising in his strong chest.He wouldn't understand what was going on, why you aroused so much interest in him, but he knew he enjoyed every moment when you were in front of his eyes.  

It is interesting that from the beginning he would not look at you lustfully as men otherwise do. Not because he has no desire to run his big palms along the lines of your body, to cross along the soft parts that would wake up a different kind of beast in him, no, but because your personality is more interesting to him than your naked body for now, after all, that's what made you different from everyone else and made him come out of his darkness that dwell in his mind and approach the light he had believed for so long that it would not shine for him. 

You would have your own private body guard, and you wouldn't even know it. He would follow you when he was able to, merging with the shadows of the roofs in his black suit, footsteps as light as a cat's, eyes glued to you. But Nicolas isn’t a stalker, he doesn’t do this because he needs to feed his deranged desire to watch you, he just wants to make sure you’re safe. The city you live in has claws on every corner, and you wouldn't even be aware of how many times he stopped the scum lurking from the dark corners with his massive body, going straight for the throat, his katana slicing every danger that dared come near you. 

The progress of your relationship would go painfully slow due to his “low value of his life” philosophy. Also, Nicolas would never ask for help from others around him, he keeps his problems to himself. Furthermore, he doesn't even need advice, he knows how to approach a woman, he knows better than anyone how to treat one, even though he the list of his lovers was not long because no one showed the deeper side to him that made him feel the way he feels for you, how a drop of water on his palm is nothing compared to how he would treat you if he managed to expresses his true feelings.

A person who never had a gentle touch on his cheek, when finally given the opportunity, becomes devoted to his partner for life. You would literally become his reason for living. The power you would have over him was unexplainable. He would run to you like a wounded puppy every time you two are apart, showing only to you his true colors. And those are a kind, loyal, caring man that desires nothing more than to hold you glued on his muscular chest, his broad shoulders and strong back like a mountain leaning over you to protect you from the world, closing his eyes and absorbing the soft touch on his skin like dry ground absorbs the water.  The only problem is, he didn't see how someone as perfect as you would even look at someone like him, a wild animal.

His distorted view of himself is what creates the problem, and once you finally realize what the obstacles are in the way of your relationship and decide to give him signs that make it clear how you feel, you would hit the jackpot, but again, in time.

Why isn’t the list of his lovers long? Believe me, it is not because Nicolas did not have chances. Even thought he is a high ranked Twilight, his sharp jaw line, tempting deep dark eyes, muscular torso that is not so well hidden under that white shirt that expresses his stone hard biceps even more, and the mysterious vibes he radiates, makes him more than desirable. Women would love to have him between their legs to feel all that might, drain him from his passionate and sexual gifts. But Nicolas does not find the pleasure of taking on one night stands, doing something meaningless just for the cheap pleasure of the body. Far from the fact he does not have that needs, he does, deep and wild  ones actually, and that is the pure reason why he does not indulge in them with strangers for a quickie. He wants a woman who will give as much as he gives her, and make him feel more than just his blood hitting his lower body. The mixture of passion and desire is what he wants, and the one who will get it will discover just how crafty he really is in the sheets.

 After approaching you slowly, being there first as an acquaintance, making his way up to “a friend” when he always was there when you needed some help, acting like he is doing it just because, nothing more, but his act would fall as a house of cards every time you would smile and thank him, then he would nervously scratch the back of his head, wave his hand at you to show you “it was nothing” then leave. But surprise, surprise, he would be there the next day, “by coincidence” passing by places you are at, because he has a job nearby.

The thing that would push him to finally make the crucial step , would probably be jealousy or quarrel. Seeing you getting hit on by other men and fearing he would lose you, made him act on instinct, hunt down the thing you need, but this time with your heart. But, the most likely, he would seal the deal when you two would have a first argument that included your safety. When he politely tried to talk you out of (sign you) something that seemed dangerous to him. When you would not listen and the argument would started to heat up and you would just try to leave, he would grab onto your forearm, firmly but with caution, pulling you back and crashing his lips on yours. His heart pounding in his ears, body tensed as his warm lips finally give away his state of heart and mind. The cutest thing would be, when you actually return the kiss, pushing your fingers into his raven hair, his eyes would open in shock, like he did not expect it, but soon would close again in delightful feeling that he did not know till now, and he locks you into a hug that radiates safety and devotion.

 When it comes to sex, Nicolas is the man who’s talents make you believe he has a gift of God. Not only that his other senses got sharper because of his inability to hear, so his eyes and hands find the sensitive spots you even did not know you had, feeling how your body reacts, from the vibration of your moans and tensing and shivering of your body to his huge dick reaching the points inside you that no one else before him did.

 His hands would rest on your throat, absorbing your moans through the waves of your voice on your skin. They would travel from your tits to your ribs and abdomen, so he can feel the pleasure consuming you and pouring out of you through the movements of your body.

He would explore your every inch with his lips, to find all of the sweet sports that he will use to make you insane. His fingers would fill your mouth so he can feel when you bite on them from the raging satisfaction when he fucks you, so he learns what gets you crazy fast, using it against you every time.

Needless to say, his dick matches his body, so you better believe he is big. His thick delight about 8.5 inches long, the veins popping out, filling his tip with blood, making it pulsate and ready for action. And once he is in, believe that no one will be able to fill you the same way as him.

There is one tricky thing. Nicolas likes it rough, but is aware of how strong he is, so he stays careful, holding back sometimes so his insanely strong thrusts do not break you. But he is a slave to your teasing, when you ask him to speed up, shaping his name with your rosy lips and licking them to show him just how much you want to be fucked like his little whore. His hands crush upper part of the bed as he grips it with his full strength, speeding up his slams, but still being on guard. It is just a matter of your provocation to see how far he will go.

Another cute thing about Nicolas is, he uses protection, well at least he tries to before you demand his bare meat in you. Why he does it? Because he is caring and wants you to always be protected, even in this way, to show how much he respects you and your decisions. Also, he will not argue when you show him that you want his flesh naked on yours, his thick cock buried inside your warm cunt without any rubbers to fuck up the feeling.

So, to sum up, Nicolas Brown does not lack experience or knowledge how to treat or please a woman, in fact, he is a golden ticket to a train of guaranteed happiness. But to find that valuable pearl of his emotions you have to go through the hard surface of that shall of his, made of his believes that he is not worthy of a happy ending. But hay, to win a priceless treasure, it is worth the hard work.

If you want to support my work, you can leave me a small tip on Ko-fi 💖 . It is highly appreciated. 🥺 😍

[millenniumfae]

Video Game Cooking: Sugars (Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice)

Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice is a standalone historical fantasy made by the famous people who also created Dark Souls and Bloodborne. It became an instant hit, and garnered massive critical acclaim. You control the broody shinobi Wolf as he battles entire armies and legendary beasts.

One of the many consumables in-game are the Sugars; Gokan’s Sugar, Ako’s Sugar, Yashariku’s Sugar, Ungo’s Sugar, and Gachiin’s Sugar. These candies are named and colored differently, and each offer a different effect. One raises your attack power, another makes you more stealthy, and so on.

Today, we’re gonna be re-creating these Sugars with our own recipe. And true to my tradition when it comes to Video Game Recipes, we’re gonna be taking our ingredients accurate to the setting. Which in this case is Sengoku period Japan. This recipe meta draws especially true to my own heritage, as a Taiwanese person.

Sekiro Senpou Temple Sugars: Recipe (makes 10-20 individual candies, depending on the size)

Base candy recipe:

3 3/4 cups granulated raw cane sugar

1 1/2 cups golden syrup/brown rice syrup

1 cup water

Corn starch for mold making (optional)

Confectioner’s sugar for dusting

Flavorings:

Fresh ginger slices (Gokan’s Sugar)

Dried lotus seeds (Gokan’s Sugar)

Red cherries (Ako’s Sugar)

Dried Astragalus (Ako’s Sugar)

Ginseng (Ungo’s Sugar)

White peaches (Ungo’s Sugar)

Sake (Yashariku’s Sugar)

Dried Cocklebur fruit (Yashariku’s Sugar)

Dried Orange peel (Gachiin’s Sugar)

Dried Goji berries (Gachiin’s Sugar)

Food coloring

(Sekiro won the 2019 Game Of The Year award, the first FromSoftware game to do so.)

To make our Sugars, we’ll be infusing a traditional candy base with various ingredients, unique for each candy. Every ingredient is based off of TCM, which is an acronym standing for Traditional Chinese Medicine. For those unacquainted with TCM, it can be hard to explain its influence. There’s no true western equivalent because it’s more than just ‘old household remedies’, it’s almost a given that Asian citizens take various TCM practices seriously to a degree. Like westerners do with honey lemon tea, or chicken noodle soup.

It’s also accurate to the game. Sekiro takes its setting very seriously. Everything from weapons, to hairstyles, to interior decor, even down to the kanji on Emma’s note in the beginning of the game is true to the Sengoku period, and some levels even go backwards a bit to the Heinan period, to reflect an ancient atmosphere. You can reasonably minus the historical inaccuracies on your own volition; giant snake gods, lightning powers, and automatic prosthetic grappling hooks weren’t indigenous to Japan.

Except there’s in fact one tiny detail that you might be surprised to learn is actually anachronistic; disk-shaped hard candies. The Sugars.

Hard candies aren’t traditional East-Asian treats. Sugar was always readily available in the form of sugar cane, true, but sweets almost always took the form of fruit, and candy-coated/infused ingredients. This is true worldwide until refining sugar into its white form became common, but East-Asia in particular wasn’t munching on lozenges while Marie Antoinette already had cough drops.

The Sengoku period stretched from the early Renaissance to the Baroque period. While Wolf was parrying his way through the Ashina Outskirts, the first King James Bible was published. There was plate armor and court jesters, but also firearms and photographs. Japan didn’t get access to matchlock firearms until 1542, and since the Sunken Valley clan seems to define themselves by the expert use of these guns, it makes sense that the intro to the game itself dates Sekiro as specifically taking place in the latter years of the Sengoku period.

All throughout this stretch of two centuries, Japan has been under constant war and political strife, lending to the Sengoku period’s alternative name, the ‘Warring States Period’. Japan consisted of separate nations, all led under Daimyo and warlords and various nobles that demanded their armies scramble for more land and resources. Living under this kind of conflict for so long means that innovations and education are rare. There’s no opportunity to invent the telescope when you’re all constantly worried about your lives.

This means that the food of Sekiro would have very much been the same it’s been since centuries beforehand. Even though by this point, the Columbian Exchange has been well underway and Europe was experimenting with tomatoes in their food, Japan wasn’t enjoying this same golden period. Any developments would have been weaponry, not candy making methods.

This means that, for our recipe, we’re not using anything that a Senpou monk wouldn’t have access to. No potatoes, corn, vanilla, etc. No beet sugar, or fruits that aren’t native to Japan. Even the raw cane sugar we’re using is pushing the authenticity envelope, because the ‘raw’ granulated sugar you find in grocery stores aren’t completely raw, they’ve still been refined using lye and carbon to strip much of the molasses. True raw cane sugar, when boiled down from its juice form, makes a traditional Asian ingredient called black sugar, which is very dark in color and not suited for making the brightly-colored candy disks that the Sugars appear to be.

(Shinobi aren’t samurai, but Wolf’s relationship with Kuro is so clearly samurai-ish that we can assume Wolf was being paid buckets as a high-prestige warrior. He also would have access to better food, including white rice; which, while already genetically modified through breeding by the Sengoku period, wouldn’t have looked like modern rice. Or maybe Wolf wasn’t enjoying the high life, because he dresses in rags compared to Genichiro and apparently didn’t know rice was supposed to be cooked.)

Knowing all that history about the Sengoku period, it’s almost silly to see candy consumables in-game, looking like they came right out of a bag of Werther’s Originals. The developers of Sekiro made many lengths to ensure everything was authentic, so why are the candies so modern-looking when they could instead have been a traditional Sengoku period sweet like something mochi-based, or agar (seaweed) jellies?

The lore behind the Sugars are that the evil Senpou monks were mass-producing these candies, and selling them all across Ashina to fund their crooked child experiments. They’re not just (presumably) tasty, they offer benefits to your health. That’s definitely in line with TCM culture, and gives us some inspiration for how to pursue replicating them.

One important note; the Sugars are some of the lesser consumables Wolf can use. Almost all other consumables are better, offering more powerful effects for a longer duration. So what if these candies were true to TCM and were mere treats infused with medicinal ingredients, only capable of giving you a small boost? Especially in comparison to the Divine Child’s rice, which would be like an Epi-Pen in this analogy.

But there’s even more depth to the consumables than that. Kuro gifts Wolf a ‘sweet rice ball’ at some point, which is almost certainly an Ohagi bun; made out of glutinous rice, red beans, and sugar, and its a traditional offering for the Buddhist observance of seasonal equinox. Eating it is sometimes said to bring protection. In order for Kuro to make Wolf this rice ball, you gotta give him some of that special rice from the Divine Child. Wolf offhandedly mentions that her rice is “sweet when you bite into it”, and Kuro realizes that Wolf has been eating these rice grains raw all this time, like the feral 5′5 goblin he is. Kuro vows to give his loyal protector something nice to eat, for once, and makes him three Ohagi dumplings.

The food of Sekiro is symbolic. The Divine Child is able to make rice out of thin air, like a deity of fertility. Kuro takes this divine rice, and his sweet rice ball is more powerful than the magical blessed Sugars because it was made with compassion. And eating Kuro’s lovingly-made rice ball reminds Wolf of once being fed a rice ball when he was young and starving, given to him by his assfuck of a father who’s compassion is heavily in question.

The Sugars are described as giving the eater a ‘benediction’ of power, and who knows what the translators were thinking, but the word choice reminds us of communion, and the flesh and blood of Christ. It’s not a true comparison; communion is about replicating and worshiping the Last Supper, reminding Christians about Jesus willingly dying cause humans are sinful. Consuming the ‘flesh and blood’ of Jesus in the form of bread and wine is very different than eating a candy apparently blessed by an ancient Japanese warrior. It’s not like communion wafers are supposed to empower you, or protect you.

Looking at the in-game image of each Sugar, you can see the likeness of a person behind it, likely the very warrior the Sugar is named after. We don’t know if these people actually had a hand in these Sugars, somehow transplanting their power into each individual candy, or if the monks just named the candies after them. Either way, the process of receiving the benefits of the Sugars isn’t just about crunching it between your teeth, Wolf also takes a moment to strike a‘warrior stances’, which, according to the descriptions, is a required detail to properly absorb the candy’s effects. Each Sugar has their own corresponding ‘stance’ that Wolf performs. It’s a weird detail, and raises even more questions about the Sugars, the monks, and the warriors behind the candy.

(Observant players will note that the five Headless boss enemies drop ‘spiritfalls’, each of which share names with the five Sugars, and offer upgraded versions of their corresponding Sugar; Ako’s Spiritfall is basically a better version of Ako’s Sugar, and so on. We can assume that the Headless are, in fact, the very same legendary warriors that powered the Sugars, especially since the game itself states that the Headless are undead remains of powerful individuals.)

True to FromSoftware tradition, details are included with purpose. And also at the same time, some details are just meant to be taken at face value. The various centipede-themed enemies in Sekiro are associated with kegare - spiritual defilement, death - explaining visually their willing abandonment from Buddhism. But there’s likely no lore explaining why Wolf can automatically hoover up all nearby enemy loot like a vacuum with the press of a button.

The inexplicable details of FromSoftware games are almost certainly because of gameplay convenience. Many characters are 9-10 feet tall for no reason, towering over Wolf, who’s already short to begin with. Lore-wise, it doesn’t make sense for so many completely human characters to be so gratuitously large. Gameplay-wise, it’s a lot easier to observe an enemy’s telegraphed movesets if their model is scaled up. Helpful, in a game like Sekiro.

The ‘stances’ of the Sugars might fall into both these categories. They exist for both gameplay and story reasons. The developers wanted a lag between consuming these powerups and being free to fight, so the player is forced to time these powerups carefully. You need to avoid enemies taking a free hit while Wolf’s animations are occupied. Then they storified this gameplay-based lag into a lore-based reason. Wolf has to take a ‘stance’ when eating these candies to receive its powers. For some reason.

I wasn’t able to further research the ‘stances’ Wolf strikes. Maybe they’re based off of known martial arts. But the description also offers some additional insight; according to the game, these Sugars contain ‘excess karma’ that is apparently the source of their power. Now, Buddhist karma doesn’t run in ‘excess’, a better choice of word would be ‘transfiguration’. One person can experience another’s karma through a variety of means.

“Bite the candy and take the Yashariku stance to impart its inhuman benediction.” In accordance with Buddhist folklore, these warriors are dead and imitating them can impart their previous life’s karma unto you. Our recipe won’t have magical karma powers, but we can certainly infuse our candies with medicinal herbs. You can just imagine the Senpou monks stirring up a big pot of sugar solution, and throwing in handfuls of dried Goji berries.

(This isn’t the first FromSoftware game that draws heavily from Buddhism. Dark Souls’ stagnant world of undeath is a rejection of Buddhist rebirth, clinging onto your legacy in a bid for immortality. Bloodborne decided to further explore the ‘time and madness’ angle of the same concept, while Sekiro went in the opposite direction to expand the ‘death and karma’ side.)

To make our Sugars; begin by first boiling the 1 cup of water with the corresponding flavor ingredients. Essentially, we’re making a batch of 10-20 candies with one flavor at a time, to make things easier on us. Ako’s Sugar requires you boil sliced ginger and dried lotus seeds, and so on.

After the water has been properly infused with the medicinal ingredients, strain the water and add it to another pot with the rest of the candy base ingredients, then boiling it all down until it reaches 300f. It’ll take a while, and you’ll notice that there’s gonna be a point where it seems like the temperature isn’t rising again. But keep at it; all the water needs to be boiled away. But the flavor will remain.

Once it reaches 300f, add the food coloring, and then keep boiling again until it reaches 310f. Then immediately take it off the heat and pour it into molds. Disk-shaped candy molds do exist, but you can easily make your own by pouring a lot of corn starch into a pan, then pressing a disk-shaped object (like another candy) into the starch to make indents. When you pour the candy mixture into a corn starch mold, you can use a spoon to gently and accurately fill each hole without distorting the powder. After perhaps three hours, the candies should be completely set and cool, and you can tumble away the powder and store the candies. Any mold method is gonna give the candies a flat side, but a true disk candy requires factory-standard molds that we don’t have.

We’re not using natural food colorings, ‘cause I tried my best to research natural alternatives that could retain their dye after boilings. And it was super hard, especially blue. Take it from me that Sekiro’s Sugars shouldn’t have been so brightly colored; intensely colored food did exist, but it was with things like powdered dried beets and matcha and pepper powder. Boiling these ingredients (rather than mixing it with dough or jelly) will change the colors drastically, sometimes completely bleaching it, or changing red to purple and so on.

As for the various medicinal ingredients; I took a gander in my mom’s soup-making cabinet and took stock of the medicinal herbs we ourselves use in our lives. The ones included in this recipe are some of the more commonly used ingredients of modern TCM.

Gokan’s Sugar, as a posture-retaining consumable, is described as a popular choice amongst shinobi hunters, a job that requires “a body with an unshakable core”. Ginger and lotus seeds are great for restoring energy through chi, a person’s lifeforce.

Ako’s Sugar raises your attack power. This candy actually proved one of the hardest to find medicines for, since, you know, most medicine is about preserving your health. Astragalus root increases energy and resistance to stress, and red cherries are a warming food according to TCM; warming meaning that its a yang property that further enhances your energy levels. (Keep in mind that food warmness-coolness is more about keeping those two in balance for optical health.)

Ungo’s Sugar reduces the amount of health Wolf loses. Very protection-centric, so we’re using ginseng, for longevity, and white peach slices for their heavy association with divinity. Both of these ingredients have some of the most well-known history in Asian food culture.

Yashariku’s Sugar is a double-edged sword, since it reduces both your health and posture so Wolf can be super powerful for a little bit. So you’re gonna add sake to the candy mixture around the 300f mark, and the dried cocklebur fruit is an immunity-boosting medicine ... but the plant is mildly toxic and can cause diarrhea. You know, Wolf gets super powerful and aggressive when taking this candy cause he needs to shit his brains out. Don’t worry; we’ve got this in our own pantry, and it personally doesn’t make my mom’s stomach upset, but it does me so it must range from person to person.

Gachiin’s Sugar makes you more stealthy, which I took to translate into ‘quieting your thoughts and emotions’. Like when you hold a baby and it can feel your own inner turmoil and starts to cry? Orange peel and goji berries restore your chi, your vision, an irregular heart rate, and stress.

Enjoy your candies! Pop them before tough situations like speaking before a big crowd, or having to wait in line at the DMV, or when you have to fight the Headless Ape for the first time. Tell your friends to stay away from the Senpou brand, so you don’t support their unethical practices.

[marvel-and-mischief]

Daffodils

Part of my Floriography Series

Pairing: Max Phillips x GN!Reader Words: 1900 Warnings: unrequited love, angst, character death (sort of, it’s vampires!), descriptions of blood and gore, descriptions of dying, descriptions of violence Synopsis: Max is selfish, thoughtless, egotistical, and it might just lead to your downfall

Daffodils: Latin name is ‘narcissus'; based on the tragic myth of the beautiful Greek hero who fell in love with his own reflection 

💐

You could see him now, standing in his office, pulling a blue steel pout in the mirror and fixing his hair with a comb. It was eight-thirty in the morning and Max was readying himself for the day as he usually did, putting a smile on his face and looking good despite the fact he never dealt with customers in person. You supposed it was a state of mind; if he looked good, he felt good and could charm whoever was on the other end of the phone. 

You’re not sure if he knew you watched. Where your desk was situated on the other side of the room, you were the only person in the office that could see what he was doing. You’d never caught him looking at you, or even noticing you for that matter, but that’s how you liked it. Blending into the shadows, head down, getting your work done, and then you could go home on time. 

Giving himself a wink, Max turns around in one smooth pirouette and strides out of his office to greet everybody with wide arms and a toothy grin.

“It’s Monday morning, I know, it sucks,” Max rolls his eyes playfully and puts his hands on his hips in an exaggerated manner, “but if we drive our sales up today then the rest of the week will be a breeze. Come Friday we’ll be sipping on cocktails and laughing at Josh over there, hey Josh,” Max waves sarcastically at a man in the corner who is trying to shrink into his chair and hide his face behind his hand. Everybody except you and Josh titter at Max’s jab. 

Max claps his hands loudly to silence the room and waves in a ‘shoo’ motion to get everyone back to work before returning to his office. It reminded you of a theatre play, how rehearsed it all was, how perfectly he moved from one action to the other. 

That was why you’d started to watch him in the first place. Your train always got you into work an hour before you needed to be there and you’d noticed how he rehearsed things in the mirror in his office before anyone arrived. Motivational speeches to himself, happy smiles and sad smiles, even different types of winks (you knew he preferred his left eye). It was fascinating to see your boss, who was usually brazen and over-confident, practicing his personality for the day. 

Being unnoticed gave you the opportunity to observe him when he thought no one was looking. Like how you never saw him eat anything, only drink from a large flask which he never poured out into the cup that screwed into the top, which was odd but then he was an odd man. He had a subconscious quirk where he’d run a finger along his side parting and sometimes he’d catch himself doing it and look mournfully around his office, as though he was remembering something he’d rather forget. 

But you tried to get noticed sometimes, tried to bring attention to yourself in small ways, just to remind him you existed, that you were there. 

You brought lemon candies back from your beach vacation last Summer, had said you’d brought too many gifts for your family and thought he’d like them. It wasn’t true of course. You’d specifically looked for something to buy him but realised you didn’t know what he liked so had grabbed them in a last minute panic from a little gift shop next to the gas station. He mumbled a thank you without looking, not expecting anything more than that. But it had stung when you found them on top of the trashcan outside the office building. By the front door. He must have known you’d see them as you left the office that day and he didn’t care. Still, it hadn’t dissuaded you.

Sometimes Max would need someone to look over numbers on a Friday night and he’d asked you (via an email). You didn’t mind, there were always regular trains to catch and it’s not like you had anyone waiting for you at home. You tried to use those nights to pry open the enigma that is Max Phillips. You never got far.

The first time you stayed behind had mostly been a silent one. Max hunched over his computer whilst you sat opposite him. You had asked him about his weekend, only to receive a shrug and a muttered ‘out with the lads’. 

The second time you helped him with the numbers you’d managed to peak his interest when you placed your phone down on his desk, your screen lighting up to reveal your favorite movie as your background wallpaper. He’d looked impressed, a conversation starter on the tip of his tongue but instead of saying something, he’d taken a deep breath and pursed his lips before turning back to his computer. 

Had you offended him without realising it? Did he not like the way you worked? You couldn’t put your finger on why he treated you the way he did. 

-

Tonight was another Friday night that Max had asked you to stay behind, but it was far from ordinary. For starters there was a mug of freshly brewed coffee sat on your side of the desk when you entered. You looked questioningly at Max.

“Don’t you like coffee?”

You hurried to nod and sat down. That was possibly the most Max had ever spoken to you. It was what you’d always wanted; for him to acknowledge you as a member of his team, as a hard worker, as a human being. Perhaps you should have responded but you were in shock. You tried the coffee once it had cooled down, it was exactly how you liked it, how did he know?

The rest of the hour went by without either of you talking. You stood from your seat and handed him the closed file.

“Everything’s in order,” you said, putting your coat on and picking up your purse, “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Max grunted something unintelligible as you walked to the door. He spoke a sentence to you today, maybe it’ll be two sentences next week? You internally kicked yourself for letting him walk all over you. He didn’t care for you the way you cared about him, he didn’t think of you as much as you thought of him, when would you learn?

Before you passed the glass windows of his office you looked back to see Max looking in the mirror, fixing up his hair and smoothing down the front of his three piece suit. He looked in the mirror more than he ever looked at you. That should be enough to shake some sense into you. He’d never like you more than he liked himself, but the heart didn’t work on logic. Unfortunately. 

You shook your head and left him there to gaze into his own reflection.

It was dark and cold in the early evenings so pausing to pull on gloves and a woollen hat in the foyer before stepping outside was a must. Just as you were adjusting your hat over your ears you heard movement from a supply closet to your left. You froze, listening out for anymore noise, hoping it was just your imagination. It was deathly silent.

If it came to it you’d run back to the elevator and go and ask Max to check it out for you, damned if it made you look pathetic. If it was someone messing about Max could deal with it, if it was a trapped animal then you’d be doing the cleaning lady a favor in the morning by letting it loose tonight. 

You startled at the noise, turning just in time to see the door knob of the supply closet being rattled from the inside. You weren’t a naturally brave person but you were curious, some would say nosey. You found your feet creeping towards the closet.

“Is someone trapped in there?” You received no reply as you placed your hand on the door knob and slowly turned.

The door flew open suddenly and you were faced with a monstrous contortion of skin and bones, sharp fangs flashed in front of your eyes and then you were hitting the ground. You felt a hot sting of excruciating pain at your neck, like your flesh was being torn apart and warm liquid dribbling down your skin and soaking your shirt.

Your vision became blurry and unfocussed but you think you saw Max, or heard him shouting your name and in a haze of motion the man at your neck had been thrown across the room and then it was his face you were seeing hovering above yours. 

“You stay with me, you understand?” He was panicked you realised, his voice becoming shrill as he held you in his arms, a hand pressed to your throat to stop any more blood pooling out. 

“I’m sorry, I tried to prevent this, I didn’t want this for you.”

You frowned up at him, wandering what he meant. What was happening to you? Why did he care when he didn’t even look at you on any given day?

His brow was furrowed, his lips turned downward, a look of pity in his eyes and it made you mad. Furious. You should be pitying him. This man who loved nobody but himself, who cared for nobody but himself. He was selfish and prideful and didn’t deserve your kindness. 

The adrenaline coursed through your veins and you felt the overwhelming urge to grab him and tear him limb from limb, like you saw predators in documentaries rip apart the flesh of their prey. Max saw the change in your eyes before you attempted to reach for his neck and swiftly held you to his chest in a strong grip.

“I promise I’ll help you through those urges,” he whispered into your ear but it sounded like being underwater when someone was shouting at you from above, you couldn’t make sense of it.

“I thought, if I could keep you away from me then perhaps no one would notice you,” Max carried on but all you wanted to do was shut him up, press your fist into his mouth and stop him talking.

“Perhaps if I’d done the opposite, protected you by keeping you near me, this wouldn’t have happened,” Max carefully pressed your head to his chest, away from his skin so you couldn’t do him any harm. He knew exactly what you were going through and he wasn’t going to let you be alone like he was.

“Because of course I noticed you, how could I not?” 

You were crying now, and your head was pounding too loudly in your ears but his words were getting through to you at last. He’s noticed you? Then how could he treat you so terribly?

“Keep breathing, remember how it feels, it won’t be long before that stops.” 

You heaved in a sobbing breath and gripped onto his forearm that lay across your chest.

“What’s happening to me?” You managed to croak out. But did you really want to know that you were dying? 

“You’re being reborn.”

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