#keeping him from ever being his own person

[plethorawrites]

So we’ve seen all of the batbros as cats but what about the reader? What would happen if they were turned into a cat?

This took forever, sorry! But yes, I totally can!

Bruce: Weary and worried.

• Before all else, he's concerned with making sure you're alright. He calls Zatanna immediately to ensure it's not permanent and then after he knows it's not, he can relax enough to try to comfort you.

• He was never a cat person, only ever owning dogs, so he really has no clue how to take care of a cat. Let alone a cat who's really the love of his life. He tries, though. He gets Alfred to make you dinner, something that's fresh and not gross Tuna or Salmon from a can. He gives you your choice of every throw pillow in the manor to tear up when he sees you get antsy, your claws flicking in and out in stress. And of course, everything poisonous to cats like the peace lilies in the living room are moved far away.

• Bruce still has to go to work, unfortunately and with no idea how to keep you entertained, puts on those "Soothing cat videos" on the big TV in his bedroom for you to watch. A six hour loop of a fishtank is less than ideal but seems to work well enough.

• You're in the same place as when he left you, so he assumes you didn't mind too much. He notices you grooming yourself, not because you want to, but out of some strange instinct you've developed and he can tell you're grossed out by your own actions, so he does his best to clean your fur himself. You might be a cat, but you seem to like water so he puts you in the bathtub and scrubs your fur with your normal soap which makes you pur.

• Until he takes you out of the warm water and you're absolutely freezing, shivering from the cold. He wraps you in a towel and holds you to his chest until you're mostly dry, then, despite the dampness of your fur, let's you curl up under the covers since you're still a bit chilly. It makes his own skin wet, but he doesn't mind since at least you seem a bit happier.

---

Dick: Amused and empathetic.

• He tries not to laugh. He really does. It's just...so much harder than it should be. You look so small, so adorable, so fuzzy. You have a tail, for God's sake. How could it not be hilarious? He only stops chuckling when you swat your paw at him, catching him with sharp claws, cutting him. He doesn't get upset since he knows he deserved it.

• Goes to the pet store with you, letting you sit in the cart and pick out your own things, which, he can tell you dislike but reluctantly comply—otherwise he'd buy you a rat themed toy instead of the feather one you wanted. You gurgle and growl repeatedly when he picks up those stupid cat costumes, but he still buys them anyway.

• And yes, he does force you to wear them. You resisted, at first, of course, but eventually gave up when he gave you those puppy dog eyes. If you thought being a cat was humiliating, you couldn't have prepared for being a cat wearing a sombrero and poncho. "Those are our Christmas cards this year," he tells you, kissing the top of your head while you meow in protest.

• Despite that, he's still sweet to you, apologizing for you having to go through this and swearing he'll fix it. In the meantime, just try to stay positive. He'll say you can rip up the drapes if it makes you feel better. You do and it does. You always hated them and he refused to get rid of them, but now there was a valid reason to.

• He sits on the floor with you, swinging the feather toy around as you chase it, gaining a good amount of height the longer you play. His arm gets tired but you're clearly not, so he sits there until you eventually get sick of it and he sets it down while you crawl into his lap for a nap. He was going to make something to eat, but he supposes he can wait.

---

Jason: Paranoid and terrified.

• His initial response is to reassure you that you'll be fine. He'll do whatever it takes you turn you back into a human, no matter what. His second response, is to freak out. He has no idea how to take care of a cat, let alone his partner who's a cat! What if he hurts you? What if he can't fix it?

• Being a cat, you, unbeknownst to him, sense him apprehension and almost immediately start rubbing against his legs until he hesitantly picks you up, cradling you in his arms as gently as possible. You rub your head against his jaw, trying to soothe him and he takes a few deep breaths, relaxing and nuzzling your fur.

• It takes him a while, and a lot of trial and error to figure out how to take care of you, be it buying food you don't like, to accidentally leaving the window open and panicking that you escaped (you were under the bed, because it was warm and safe) but he eventually calms down once the day is finally over.

• Cuddling with you on the couch, he can barely even feel your claws kneeding on his arms because there's so much scar tissue it's too hard to scratch and hurt. Your purring is what calms him down the most though, after an extremely long, stressful day. You sitting on his lap, his hand resting on your back as he slowly and accidentally falls asleep.

• When he wakes up, you're still a cat, still sleeping on him. He picks you up carefully, taking you to the bedroom so he can sleep in his bed and you aren't left alone in the living room. He has a feeling you'll be yourself soon enough, even if he doesn't know exactly when. He'll keep you safe until then.

---

Tim: Shocked and Frantic

• He immediately starts to panic. You're a cat. A freaking cat. How? Why? What does he need to do to fix it? He has a million questions and no answers. But his stress only adds to your own and he quickly tries to calm down before soothing you: "No, no, no. It's fine. You're gonna be fine. I swear."

• Still, the second he gets you out of the room, convincing you that you'd be more comfortable in the living room than in the batcave, he starts to pace and freak out again. It's actually Damian, of all people, who gets him to snap out of it, literally slapping him across the face and telling him to be there for you instead of worrying about the details.

• He listens, to an extent, going back upstairs to where you were chewing on the fern in the living room, ripping a leaf apart. Pulling you away from it as you meow in protest, he cradles you in his arms, apologizing for fretting and promising he won't leave again.

• And he doesn't. He does, however, keep working on a way to fix you. He tries to be annoyed when you start knocking things off his desk, pushing stuff into a water bowl, jumping into his bottom drawer, laying on his papers, but he can't do it. You're just acting too cute to genuinely be mad. Eventually, he takes a break, closing the drawer you were sitting in and hauling you to his bed.

• He'll admit, he threw you with a little less caution than he probably should have, but you didn't mind, crawling onto him the moment he laid down, eager to close your eyes after being awake for far too long. Aka 5 straight hours, which, for a cat, was a lot. He didn't quite realize that, but notices almost immediately how fast you fall asleep once you lay down, curling into a ball, tucking your nose under your tail to keep it warm.

---

Damian: Is both fascinated and prepared.

• He has over a dozen pets, so when you're turned into a cat, he already knows everything there is to know and gets you anything you could possibly need. A nice cat bed, toys to keep you entertained, a post to scratch so you don't ruin any furniture.

• His others pets want to play or chase you, but he scoops you up before any of them can get even close to you. And he insists you stay close to him and not wander off, because you could get lost, kidnapped, or hurt.

• You always knew his knowledge of animals was extensive but didn't realize how much so until he was petting you, explaining how the hair follicles on cats work, which is why they never like to be pet in certain areas.

• Despite having an extremely nice bed, you'd really rather prefer his and he allows it, reminding you not to scratch the pillows or the sheets. "They're Egyptian silk. Don't ruin them." Still, when he catches you clawing at them in your sleep, unaware you were doing it, he doesn't stop you.

• In the morning, he switches feeds you breakfast, in a human bowl so it's not so degrading and takes you with him while he works on a way to fix you. He quickly gets distracted, though, by how you're looking around at everything like it's the most interesting thing ever.

[fangsandfeels]

It's not that Rook as a project manager/leader/decision-maker doesn't work or has no value. However, what bothers me is that Rook feels like they literally exist to fulfill that role, but they have no part in the story.

For instance, in DAO Warden ends up with the mission to save Ferelden because there is nobody else. The King is dead, their Grey Warden mentor is dead, everyone is too busy playing politics - and the Warden just happened to survive. However, at the same time, they also have stakes of their own. They all have their reasons to go on, to do all that:

Cousland: "I will find and kill Howe for what he did to my family"

Aeducan: "I will take back my throne from my traitor brother"

Tabris: "If darkspawn reach Denerim, nobody will bother to protect the Alienage, so I must do my best for Shianni and all the people there" // "I will kill every fucking shem in my way and I'm not letting the Blight take it from me"

Mahariel: "I lost my best friend to the taint and I almost died myself. I must make sure my people are safe from it, whatever it takes."

Amell: "I narrowly avoided the Rite of Tranquility in my own Circle and there is no place for me anywhere else, so I better get used to this Grey Warden thing" // "Fuck yeah! I got my freedom and no templars, no darkspawn will ruin it for me!"

Surana: "I narrowly avoided the Rite of Tranquility in my own Circle and there is no place for me anywhere else because I am a mage and as an elf I have slim chances of not being harassed in the first place. I really need to make this Grey Warden thing work."

Brosca: "I didn't survive this long just to die here. I will keep climbing out of this pit and nobody will ever look down on me"

These reasons make the Warden more than just a placeholder for team leader - they make the Warden a person with their unique struggles, motivations, and experiences.

In DAI, the Inquisitor is less detailed, but they are put in a unique situation - they have The Thing in their hand and now people think they're the Messiah. Also, the local Pope is dead, there is a gaping hole in the sky and people are losing their shit, and The Thing seems to be the key to dealing with all of that, so the Inquisitor literally has to be the leader.

(Let's ignore the fact that the Inquisitor is also appointed the leader because they can be conveniently turned into a scapegoat for the enraged mob should something go wrong.)

The Inquisitor can be a fierce believer committed to the cause. They can be a reluctant leader and a loud non-believer, but their motivation is clear: I'm dealing with this shit not just because it threatens the world, but also it affected me personally.

Rook, however? They lack that nuance and range. They join Varric behind the scenes for no other reason than "cuz saving our planet is a thing to do!". Moreover, somehow they instantly buy Varric's story that must sound like some tinfoil hat level insanity:

"Alright, so elven gods are real and one of them is hanging around right now and he wants to explode the Veil and drown the word in demons. Wanna join me and stop him? It'll be fun. Yeah, he is literally a god who can kill you in your sleep and you're the only person I've recruited so far, I think our odds are good."

After all, in DAO the darkspawn threat is obvious and very hard to ignore: Mahariel gets the firsthand experience, Aeducan and Brosca' city is literally under constant threat, and the rest of Wardens get a glimpse of what the darkspawn will do to Ferelden in Orzammar. There is no denying the necessity to fight them. But Solas, though? He is subtle. Racism and prejudice against elves play in his favor. The only people who understand the threat are the ones he revealed his secret to.

So, why does Rook join Varric without a shadow of doubt, especially if they aren't even exiled from their faction (more like asked to take a break)? They obviously has a place to return to and things to do, why get yourself involved?

In other words, Rook lacks personal reasons and deeper motivation to go after Solas, which makes them look inauthentic and awkward (even though they're supposed to be capable and skilled) because there is no essence to their interactions.

Moreover, there could be reasons.

Maybe, they lost someone due to Solas' machinations and actions, they realized that there was something mysterious about the tragedy and felt like they were going insane until they crossed paths with Varric who gave them answers.

Maybe they got framed by Solas' spies and lost their place in their faction, their political status, everything - so they literally have no other option but to start beef with a literal god.

Maybe they were one of the slaves freed by Solas' agents but realized that he expects them to die for him now, which rubbed them the wrong way.

It is a compelling reason: to find the mysterious and supposedly powerful being, to be able to thwart its scheming, to ask "Remember me?" right in their face or to demand answers. It's a powerful motivation to keep going, to gather allies and work with people. It would have even made Solas getting stuck in Rook's head more impactful and allowed for more personal and sharper conversations.

In fact, now I think that if Rook got absolutely wrecked due to Solas actions (as a collateral damage) and became a down on their luck depressed mess or a restless seeker of answers putting themselves into dangerous situations, it would have made for a much more protagonist.

What’s really jumping out at me on my second playthrough is that the writers of the first three games understood that your character was the main character. The Veilguard writers clearly thought that the main characters were their characters, the companions.

Every scene is about setting the companions up as cool or competent or sympathetic. Often, this is done at Rook’s expense. The companions get all the witty one-liners; Rook’s attempts at humor not only frequently fall flat, but are frequently called out for falling flat (even when they’re completely automatic and the player has no say in them).

The companions have all the knowledge and skills; Rook just brought them all together and gives them all pep talks so they can focus. I’m trying to edit out all of the comments where Rook is like “Um… what????” from my videos, and let me tell you, it takes WORK. There are A LOT of them. I can count on one hand the number of times when the Inquisitor or Hawke comes across as dumb, but it seems to be a built-in, unavoidable part of Rook’s character. I have not selected a single “purple” option in all of Act 1, and Rook is still coming across as the kid who tries to be the class clown to cover for the fact that he’s always confused. Rook’s role in most scenes is to say “Uhhh… what?” so that the companions look smart.

Rook is always the one offering sympathy and never the one getting it. No one actually comes to comfort you after Varric’s death. No one asks you how you’re feeling about having to lead the team now that Varric is gone. No one tries to reassure you or give you advice for dealing with the trickster god haunting your dreams. We’re told that Neve could keep Solas out of your head, but she never actually offers to do this for you. No one comforts a Shadow Dragon Rook when Minrathous is destroyed or a Grey Warden Rook when Weisshaupt is destroyed. Rook’s problems don’t matter. Only the problems of main characters matter.

Rook is a secondary character in their own story.

[thesongoficeandfir3]

Mine to take care of

Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Wife!reader

Warnings: brief talk of gore, talks of menstrual cycle, slight description of menstrual blood, smut alluded

Genre: Fluff

Prompt: Jace taking care of his wife who’s on her moon blood

A/n: You’re next Cregan Stark

You changed your position on the four-poster bed for what felt like the hundredth time as your mind bops in between sleep and wakefulness. You had a long and irritable day just wanting to sleep but your body had other ideas as it writhed in some unknown pain that worsened throughout the night.  Finally accepting the fact you weren’t getting any sleep you allow your body to fully wake up and once your mind comes back to the waking world, your eyes burst open when you realized what was keeping you from sleep. 

You jolted to a sitting position ripping the furs from your body. Your eyes snapping down and a string of curses leaving your lips and you leap out of bed. The room was  somewhat dark, all the once tall and bright  candlesticks now mere stubs hardly sputtering flames and the fireplace reduced to embers. Yet you could still make out the dark bloodstain, a stark contrast to the white sheets. You are pulled from your panic when you hear soft mumbling and Jace shifting awake. You move quickly and hide the stain covering it with the furs.

“What is it?” He mummers out still half asleep and his voice raspy with sleep.

“It is nothing my love,” you stutter out, failing horribly to conceal the distraught in your tone. “Please just go back to bed.” Though you had succeeded in covering the truth on the bedsheets with the furs, you failed to remember it also seeped through your rather thin and white nightgown.

“If it were nothing then why does your voice-” he pauses mid sentence once his eyes land on you, his mind still not quite in the waking world “what is that on your-”  his eyes then widen in realization and you prayed to all the gods above to end you right there.

Despite being betrothed for two years, it was not until a fortnight ago that you two were married and started to share a marriage bed. Thus there were still a few more intimate and more private things yet to be revealed in your relationship, your moon blood being one of them. While from the very first day you had met Jacaerys he had been nothing but kind and gentle with you, at this moment your insecurities got the better of you making you feel ashamed and embarrassed about your own moon blood. 

Jacaerys was not as savage nor dumb like many of the other men of Westeros when it comes to a woman’s anatomy (something you found out rather quickly on your wedding night). Due to reading and having female family members he was more than aware of what a moon blood was. This however was not enough to prepare him for how it truly looked and he can not help be slightly taken aback. He had been to war, he has  seen men’s heads crushed, animal’s stomachs ripped open, people skins bubble and burn from dragon fire, but seven hells was that a lot of blood for a person who was not injured or cut.

“Oh is that your… you know” He desperately tries to act casual.

His words go through one ear and out the next, not only was the lower part of your nightgown stained with blood but as you sleeped with nothing more than a nightgown the blood also dripped and stained down your legs.

Mayhaps it was the lack of sleep or the raging and unpredictable emotions that always came with your moon blood but your eyes immediately became watery with tears. 

 “Sorry” your voice breaks and you prepare for him to make any signs of disgust or try to pretend he doesn't see anything and go back to bed as you told him early. 

This is more than enough to snap him out of his surprised state, he mentally slaps himself for his initial dumbfounded reaction. He quickly shifts right back to the loving and caring man you know so well and needed more than ever at this moment.

“Hush now my love, there is nothing to apologize for,” he is at your side in an instant “this is a natural part of a woman’s body and you should never apologize for it.” His voice is soft and gentle. Despite his encouraging words he can still see your heart aching and it doesn't help when your arm quickly wraps around your abdomen when a painful cramp surges through. “Come now, let's get you out of that and cleaned up” he says as he reaches for the laces of your nightgown.

You recoil, not because of him but because of yourself. “I am repulsive, I should do it myself”

His face twists in disappointment, his disappointment pointed toward your words not at you. His hands grab your biceps slightly squeezing them in an attempt to stop you from walking away from him and for you to listen to what he had to say.

“Stop that you are anything but, what you are is my queen, my woman and you are mine and i intend to take care of what belongs to me” he ends the sentence with a soft kiss on the forehead before undoing the laces. Once undone he slips it over your head leaving you completely bare, you both instantly noticing how even bloodier in between your thighs were.

“This is a womanly thing, many men would be off-put by this so I will not shame you if you are.” you know he said just a few moments ago it was fine, but seeing blood stains was one thing and seeing its source was a whole other.

“Don’t you dare compare me to those dimwitted fools,” he takes your hand and leads you to the wash basin “a real man will not be fazed by his wife's body functioning  the way it's supposed to.”

Once at the wash basin, he picks up a clean cloth and soap. He kneels in front of you getting to work at cleaning off all the blood, you can feel the tender love and care through his touch. It was quiet the entire time he washed you, but a it was a comfortable silence as you two reached a new level of intimacy.

Jace felt honored that you allowed him to see this side of you. So raw and vulnerable yet you still trusted him and for that , he did not think it was possible, but he fell in love with you more. After the cleaning is done he leans forward pressing a long and gentle kiss where your womb would be.

“Guess what,” he murmurs, his breath felt warm against your skin “Your womb has not been seeded yet.” he stands once more “so that means I can try again and again until my seed starts to bloom in your beautiful garden.” 

He pulls you flush against him and you laugh at his words, his heart swells being able to hear the sound again.

“And once you give birth to our beautiful king or queen  I will plant hundreds more.

You bite on your bottom lip, the insecurity from earlier passing and you feel more bold now.

“Well then what is stopping you from starting now?”

“Nothing my heart” his eyes darkened with love and desire, he lifts you up taking you two to the bed.

[oristian]

Lucien breaking the wards constraining him to cover Elain with his jacket, snarling at the males gawking at her body in the wet nightgown. Lucien declaring himself a mated male and refusing any females, despite not even knowing his mate beyond the surface. Lucien maintaining that loyalty, even going so far as to feel guilt for his own assault at the hands of another female.

Lucien on the run, abandoning his home, and asking Feyre to tell him about Elain. Lucien willing to accept that Elain has a lover, despite the agony that it would bring him. Lucien finding Elain to be the most beautiful female he has ever seen in her current state, while others describe her to be sickly. Lucien gripping his teacup to keep from shuddering from Elain saying his name for the first time. Lucien being the one to tell everyone to take Elain outside, to take her to the sea.

Lucien traveling across the world on a whim from Elain’s visions, trusting her solely. Lucien fighting in a war and, upon completion, took off running across the shore to make certain that Elain was alright. Lucien being the only character to credit Elain personally for her assist with the King of Hybern. Lucien keeping his distance, despite how much it pains him to do so, in order to allow Elain that comfort. Lucien longing for Elain, for the bond to be accepted. Lucien offering Elain two perfect Solstice gifts, one that he learned of as a side thought and remembered months later.

Lucien Vanserra is at the mercy of Elain Archeron.

[directdogman]

A little nugget of Crown + Milt characterization:

I had a long talk the other night (I was putting off sending an important email. I'm very responsible) and revealed a bit about Crown + Milt's characters. It's a lil long, but figured I should put a slightly touched up version of it here for everyone to see:

Crown was born disabled and was rejected VERY harshly when he tried to join the army, even after building his own set of mechanical legs. He was used to those in power mistreating him. As such, he never felt like he really belonged in power deep down because it was an environment he was unfamiliar with, surrounded by people who reminded him of those he'd always despised.

That's how he felt around 'real' politicians. He felt like he was in a joke + was waiting for the punchline. He felt he HAD to fight to keep what he had because those in power didn't WANT him there. He didn't belong. Here, there or anywhere. A freak only around by happenstance. He didn't just disagree with the motives/actions of others in power, he despised them for what they were. People who would never understand where he came from, what he had to overcome to get there and because of all that: what was at stake if his plans failed - that a world would never exist where he could've lived a full and happy life if he'd never had the opportunity to leave his garage.

He looked at the public as well-meaning, but somewhat dim. People who only knew enough to know what affected them personally. But he didn't hold it against them. They were products of their environment, of the systems that he was trying to undo. What he wanted was a mass revolution. A highly educated, dedicated and at times aggressive population that would recognize when their rights were being trampled and do something about it. He saw himself as a wolf on the side of sheep, and he wanted to make the public more like himself, so the fight for justice would never die. Every man a protagonist!

Milt's upbringing wasn't like Crown's. He didn't suffer from disability and his true sexual orientation wasn't known, so he faced little adversity for it, outside of the odd accusatory remark, which he was able to tolerate (as taking it personally would've given him away and put him in danger.) His family were well off, unlike Crown's.

He never understood Crown's mentality, as a result. He knew they had to fight to enact change, that the powerful fight to keep things the same because they benefit from it. But, the idea of seeing those around him as different (be it other people in power or the population themselves) - Milt couldn't fully grasp that part of Crown and at times, struggled to come to terms with the fact that the partner of his revolution, that aimed to create class awareness and solidarity - saw people as different to himself.

Marla understood Crown's perspective though. Despite perhaps sharing more ethical values with Milt, growing up poor + with a disability of her own (Mingus' cane was originally hers, after all), she saw eye to eye with Crown more in this regard. She viewed those who held onto power + failed to wield it for the good of others with a deep, searing contempt, which she was felt just as intensely as he did.

Of course, Milt never had Crown's insecurity. Just different inner demons of his own from the war, which haunted him in a very different way.

Crown believed that because he was able to change his own destiny, he HAD to change the destiny of others. He couldn't waste the opportunity he had. That the stars themselves had aligned in a one of a kind freakish accident, that their journey was one way and that nobody would ever get the chance to recreate their strategy, because those in power would know what to watch for next time it was tried. Crown couldn't have it be for nothing. he couldn't let everyone down.

While Milt looked at his past with survivor's guilt. The things he had to do to survive during the war. The faces of men he'd killed haunted him in his sleep. And he never forgot that he was alive because others were not. If he made mistakes, made the world a worse place… then the deaths of those he fought alongside who didn't come back were for nothing. He'd know for sure that the voice in his head was telling the truth - that he should've taken each and every bullet that felled his comrades. If he'd been braver, done more, generations of good families would've stemmed from the men he fought with who never made it home.

Crown and Milt had so much in common and their connection was quite deep - but as much as they knew about each other, neither could fully understand this one difference in the other and it wound up being the thing that ultimately killed their relationship.

[badly-drawn-doflamingo]

I think I’ve figured it out, that missing piece.

My partner mentioned to me off handedly “Brook is Austrian, isn’t he?” and that alone has just resurfaced this post, and along with it, the missing ties I believe I’ve possibly solved.

In figure 3, 4 and 5, we see Brook react unlike himself, bristling and biting back against a very certain group, and only this group so far has caused this reaction; Germa 66.

We hear how he seemingly has dealt with them first hand, his age not being a factor due to the fact he was isolated, even if he tries to brush it off to Reiju as shown in Fig. 5. This sounds like personal experience, and that is expected both due to his confirmed military time AND because of actual real world history.

The Anschluss took place in March 12, 1938, being the forceful taking of Austria by Nazi Germany. This was not opposed by nearby countries due both to fear and bias, and no aid was sent until much later, when the damage had already been done. Now, knowing how Oda mixes his history such as Ceaser and the sickening unit 717 experiments, and Che Guevara and Dragon, WW1-WW2 are not off the table what so ever. If Oda went this route, taking inspiration from these events and twisting it into Brook's story, it would solve all questions I had left open in the above document;

Brook lost his kingdom to Germa 66 or at least faced heavy damages by their military, and the World Government did nothing but enforced them as their own royal family, excusing them of their actions and crimes. What's worse than being a pirate? Being a Nazi. Of course you'd join some red neck, even if it meant being below him, it's freedom and its your own morals against the land that betrayed you. How do you protect people as a fallen knight? Do the next best thing, spread joy with your other talent; music. Brook is the type to stay with his men however morals come first, and I highly doubt he would simply go along with such a change, if this IS the case, which I highly suspect it is. We hear a lot from Brook and how he handles himself, and fleeing for any other reason other than desperation seems off the table. It would have to be something monstrous to make him change sides, and this would absolutely be it. Keep an eye in the future for more information on the West Blue, for it seems to be a war sea, including Issoh's blinding of himself due to seeing the atrocities and crimes the government and war itself did to his people, and people like Laffite who were so terrible they were utterly banished. God Valley and Ohara are also places that once stood in the West Blue, however it seems there is more to be explored in the future.

Brook’s Past, Military and Everything Between [ An Essay kinda ]

Brook’s past is not a thing many people seem to mention or think about, at least in full, however it’s something that's plagued me. Not only as a Brook fan, but simply out of the odd implications it has towards the future, if any. Oda’s planted too many seeds for it to utterly be nothing; there’s so much odd and seemingly out of place comments and facts stated by Brook and others towards this missing history. However, knowing that the show is beginning to near it’s end, due to time, I am unsure of what exactly will be done.

I believe however, for folks' interest and so we can have everything in one place, that compiling everything found so far can be beneficial, so, I have.

Starting with what we know for sure, Brook is from the West Blue, born 90 years ago to a certain kingdom, the same kingdom he was a military convoy leader from. We know this due to a few factors, however it’s still open to debate if it *is* the same kingdom, however seeing as he was shown as a child to already know what fencing is, practicing moves with his bow, I am just going to say he probably was. In any case, other things worth noting, on the topic of childhood, is that Brook seems to have had money. At least, stability.

Compared to a lot of the other strawhats, Brook is shown dressing very nice. No tatters, no tears, shined shoes and a full violin and bow. He also, as already stated, seemed to be exposed to fencing enough to mirror the moves. If this comes from his kingdom, it means he was exposed to it at a young age. Knowing that he was a military convoy leader, this could be taken that perhaps there were military demonstrations, perhaps the kid saw castle guard or other displays; it’s really up in the air.

We know Brook, again as stated before, became a military convoy leader. Now, the definition of what exactly that means can differ.

Wikipedia states; A convoy is a group of vehicles, typically motor vehicles or ships, traveling together for mutual support and protection. Often, a convoy is organized with armed defensive support and can help maintain cohesion within a unit. It may also be used in a non-military sense, for example when driving through remote areas.

This could mean Brook’s job could’ve been accompanying ships for protection, being a knight for his King, mediating information and goods that come in and out of the kingdom. This would make sense on why his speed was needed, a 9.2 ft man being a great choice for a leader.

His weapon also would make sense for this kind of mission, perhaps secrecy being important or at least the ability to be discreet. His cane sword, a ‘Shikomizue’, is not unique however to just him in the show, one other man using one that has been confirmed so far, that being Fujitora. The pair also share a sea, the west, and both utilize iaijutsu (quick draw techniques.) Fujitora blinded himself with said sword because of something apparently so cruel and inhumane that he rather not see anguish. This may be related to Brook’s departure from his kingdom, which is addressed later in this essay. (Fig 3-5.)

Another thing that’s worth mentioning here is Brook’s attack patterns, being unique even for his kingdom apparently. Once again, during the Ryuma fight, Brook states, and I quote;

“Ryuma: “Now tell me, what part of that wretched excuse for a body would you like me to severe with my special ‘Arrow Notch Slash?’ Brook: You don’t know a thing about that move, so do not use it’s name. I use to serve in my kingdom’s raider squad. The quick draw attack that I was most skilled at was ‘Requiem Lebanderole’. My comrades-in-arms renamed it in regards to my fighting technique.”

(Fig. 1, Brook explains his raider squad and move names. A banderole mind you is a long flag for BATTLE crusades. )

This sets up a few interesting facts. 1. Brook was in a raider squad, a kingdom’s group of marauders, as well as if not the same job as convoy leader. 

2. His techniques were unique to him, or at least specialized to a degree of having a nickname. 3. As expected, he seems to have been close to these men he commanded, adding another layer over Brook loosing the Rumbars.

Being in both a raider squad and being a convoy leader at one point, if not the same point, implies either Brook was simply versatile, acting in both in separate years or periods. Or, the most likely, that he was higher ranking than expected, making him a CO, or commanding officer. (Lieutenant Colonel is another equal rank for scale, making Brook just below a Major.) This makes him quite the important figure, especially for a kingdom that seems to value its military so much, so much so that a child of Brook’s age would already know about their style of fencing, as expressed already. Brook’s devil fruit is worth mentioning here, the revive-revive fruit not likely to be found by a crew like the Rumbars. It is spoken about as if he has always had it amongst the crew, being a fact of life. However, when did he get that fruit and why? I propose where it would be useful; in combat. If your military convoy leader, your best swordsman could be shot and come right back to protect the king, would he not be utterly invaluable? You would never let him leave… But he DID leave. It’s not said why, however we have some extra tidbits of information that may tell us why, and that ALSO may tell us the answer to what kingdom he means.

( Fig. 2. Brook states his leaving of the military for unknown reasoning, the word certain being used in an odd way, establishing his bounty.) This bounty mind you all is in fact, using inflation method, 297,000,000 berries. That is a MASSIVE bounty for just a pirate. Perhaps a certain blond stole a treasure a kingdom could not replace; their convoy leader. Lets rewind for a moment and cover something that may be seen as off topic however I will come right back to the subject at hand; Calico Yorki. Yorki is an odd bird, pirate wise. He makes his crew read his bounties and information, is never shown to play an instrument/sing but makes his crew preform/they all do, and makes Brook make him dinner. (Steak, and Brook continues to be able to make it as confirmed by an SBS.) What is oddest yet, other than his large crew and shirtless habits, is his nature. A man that set to sea to play music for “orphans and crying children” as stated by himself; a crew made for “any men who love music.” Now, I could be reading into this too hard, however from his speech patterns, to this apparent need for a large family, it seems that singing to orphans may be a very personal goal. An orphan turned pirate perhaps, with lofty dreams and a heart of gold, it reads to me that Yorki may have been just that. Knowing this, orphan or not, we now can compare these facts to Brook’s life up until their meeting. A child who probably grew up being taught to fight, being around access to education, expenses and the kingdom’s training. Why would a man like Brook ever join a man like Yorki, and if it’s only music, would that not make Brook a deserter? I do not think that is the case. I will now bring forward some interesting evidence regarding Brook’s kingdom and WHY he would leave. Germa 66. During Zou to Whole Cake, a few mentions of Germa are made with Brook around, garnering interesting reactions indeed.

( Fig. 3. Brook listens but chooses not to add anything utter than silence, his music pausing as well.) This silence could be take as simple ignorance, however Brook later admits he knows of the kingdom, in fact, he knows a lot. A lot more than anyone else did, Reiju admitting interest in his knowledge and once again, Brook brushes it off.

(Fig 4, 5, Brook speaks about Germa 66.) He seems to underplay or simply not elaborate a LOT on his kingdom, as if something happened. Perhaps joining Yorki was not out of simple cowardice or need to be free, (which again if he did would both reflect poorly upon his entire character and not be in character for him what so ever,) but in fact, out of necessity. It could have been Germa 66, it could have been some other grouping, however I believe this will come to be something important. The kingdom possibilities are interesting as well, and I will list the following LIKELY possibilities. (Other options are known to not be military, like Ohara, or literally places like Thriller Bark itself.) - Toroa - God Valley - Illsia Kingdom - Soja Kingdom The most likely candidates, because again, it is labeled as certain kingdom (Fig 2.) is Toroa or Soja, however I will personally lean into Toroa. This is because of a man by the named of Byron.

(Fig 6. Byron and his information.) His nose and face shape vaguely resemble Brook, however honestly that is a stretch. What is NOT however is his familiar attire, family line and the placement of his kingdom. This could easily be Brook’s home, however again, this is just speculation. Brook very well could belong to God’s Valley, or the same kingdom as Issoh, fleeing because of something he did not agree with or literally could not stand any longer. But, that falls under possibility, not fact. This concludes the facts section, now comes the final question; What does it mean for the story? And, honestly, that can be debated. What Oda has done is plant odd seeds of information about the man, similar to Sanji and his ties to Vinsmoke, that have not been addressed nor talked about in full, or so I’ve found sufficiently. These seeds MAY bloom into what I hope will be a tie into some huge reveal, perhaps aid from a past member of his convoy or kingdom, or perhaps this will only spark conflict. Perhaps it will be minute, Brook being able to aid due to his knowledge, the man already in Thriller Bark showing his prowess by being able to command the strawhats into defeating zombies via salt and tactic. In any case, we can only hope these things mean anything, tied into some huge story that could explain why a man like him would quit for a redneck like Yorki, other than perhaps love, and what kingdom would let a man like him go willingly.

Updates:

- Confirmation that he’s educated! Perhaps in military or just as a whole, but confirmation nonetheless!

- I realize the reason he’s so confident with Big Mom isn’t just guts; he’s fought for royalty before. He’s just back in the fucking building again /j

- Sabaody behaviors, a convoy leader

CHECK REBLOG FOR PART TWO!!

[wisecura]

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.10  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.12 (getting close to the end)

p.11

AN: very very very sorry for the late post! I do have a clear ending in mind for this (typed up my outlines and everything) and I'm hoping to wrap it up soon--thank you for your love and support! and my cute anons asking for updates. it really had been encouraging even when i'm not feeling great. I hope this chapter is up to par, been feeing a bit of a block and a bit shy with posting. sometimes I focus on the negative and forget i'm doing this as a hobby. (get a bit self conscious and wonder if i'm even good at writing haha) so thank you again for the love and support. If this sounds disorganized please tolerate me ♥️ i'm ranting now, so please--

warnings: this story may cover sensitive and uncomfortable topics. please read at your own risk, violence, lashings, blood, mental breakdowns, yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside your moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.

anons, anons, anons (if i say it three times will you appear?♥️)

Your eyes locked onto it immediately.

He’d forgotten his school bag at home, which was so uncharacteristic for the always-on-top-of-it Megumi. The fact that he's gone off without it was a surprise in and of itself.

And being the good, responsible figure you were, you decided you needed to get it back to him. Sure, you could’ve just texted him, but the nagging curiosity ate away in the back of your mind.

You deserved that much…right? 

Over the past few years, both you and Megumi had grown, though in ways that felt fundamentally different. It seemed like only yesterday when you towered over him by at least a foot, but now, at 22, standing on the edge of what felt like both everything and nothing, you began to pick up on more around you. Each time he came back, it was as though he had learned something new, gained some insight or skill that added to the ever-growing distance between the person he was and the person he was becoming.

And with those changes came those unwelcome feelings that gnawed at the back of your mind. Jealousy—Admiration. A sense of responsibility that weighed heavier than it had any right to. Overwhelming affection that felt almost instinctive, but no less unsettling. A little too...much for deep thought. And astonishment at the person who regularly sat in front of you at the dinner table—so far removed from the boy you once knew. 

Meanwhile, your life felt stuck in place, confined to the monotony of daily errands and long hours indoors. Days blurred together, weeks slipped by unnoticed, and yet that nagging ache in the back of your mind never left. So desperate to go off the beaten path. 

And the trail leading to Jujutsu High was gorgeous. Thick trees lined the path, their leafy branches casting intricate shadows on the pavement. The sunlight peeked through in golden streaks, making the entire scene feel almost surreal. The warmth on your face nearly euphoric. You’d only ever seen pictures of this place when you looked it up online, but they didn’t do it justice. 

“Woah. And who might you be?” 

The sudden voice shattered your focus, making you spin around so fast you nearly lost your footing. Your pulse spiked, heart pounding in your chest as you stumbled back a step, clutching the two bags in your hands like a damn lifeline. For a brief moment, the world around you blurred, leaving only a splotch of leaves in your line of sight.

Your gaze snapped to a face far too close for comfort—definitely too close.

White, unruly hair, gleamed in the sunlight, but it was his eyes, so unnervingly blue, that froze you in place. He was undeniably handsome. But the smirk that graced his face and the look in his eye as his head tilted slightly, was unnerving. As if you were some curious puzzle he’d stumbled upon.

“Lost?” he asked, his tone light and teasing, but there was an undeniable weight in his presence that sent a shiver down your spine. Then it hit you—the suffocating wave of cursed energy radiating off him. It was staggering, an oppressive force pressing down on your chest and making it hard to breathe. How had you not felt it before? It rolled off him in unrelenting waves, so overwhelming it left you momentarily speechless, rooted to the spot.

“What? You shy?”

His voice broke the silence, dripping with that insufferable amusement. He was just as bad as Toji it seemed. He tilted his head a bit more, his eyes glinting mischievously, as if your reaction was the highlight of his day. Your irritation felt obvious, but it was quickly drowned out by the lingering unease that his cursed energy evoked. Stranger danger. stranger danger.

You instinctively stepped back, trying to create some distance, but he didn’t budge. If anything, he leaned in closer, his presence invading your space with an air of lazy confidence, like he had all the time in the world to unravel whatever it was he found so intriguing about you.

You hadn’t even realized you were staring until he spoke again, the lilt in his tone making your cheeks heat with something closer to indignation. Still, you weren’t about to be rude—not with someone who exudes this kind of power. Not when he was the only one walking down this path with you. Not another soul in sight.

“Sorry,” your voice wavering slightly. “Do you… work here?” The hesitation in your tone was unmistakable, and his response was immediate—a wide grin stretching across his face. Fitting.

“That depends… who’s asking?” 

Before you could respond, your name rang out, a deep voice, heavy and familiar, cutting through the air from behind you. The grin faltered on the man’s face for the briefest of moments, replaced by a flicker of surprise as his eyes shifted past you to the source. You turned instinctively, already recognizing who it belonged to, even before you saw him.

Of course, it was Megumi.

“What’re you doing here?” His voice was blunt, almost tense, as he closed the distance between you in a few long, purposeful strides. There was no warmth, no casual greeting—just that demanding tone that made your chest tighten.

Why did he look so upset?

Oh, did you... mess up?

You barely had a chance to open your mouth before he was standing right in front of you, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly. His eyes scanned over you as if he was checking for some kind of damage you hadn’t even realized might be there.

“You... left your bag at home,” you voice was soft, quiet. He didn't seem to acknowledge your words as you attempt to hold up the bag. Proof of your...innocence? Why would you even need a reason to be here? You weren't doing anything wrong.

His expression never wavered, the clench of his jaw making it clear that your answer hadn’t fully soothed whatever was bothering him. His grip on your shoulders softened slightly, though he gave them a small squeeze, almost reassuring. But his attention shifted.

Gaze moving past you, and you felt the change immediately. His posture stiffened, his whole demeanor shifting into something colder, more guarded. Without a word, he stepped in front of you, his body casually yet deliberately placing itself between you and the white-haired man. His shoulders completely blocking you from view. The movement was subtle, but the message was clear. Just how did Megumi know a man like this?

“Gojo-sensei,” —Ah.

“What’re you doing here? I thought you were on a mission.”

The man—Gojo—let out a heavily dramatic sigh, looking completely unbothered by Megumi’s tone. “Finished early,” he replied with a casual shrug, hands crossing behind his head, far too relaxed. “But who’s this you’re hiding?”

His voice gave you chills, and you shifted uncomfortably, not able to see him, but no doubt that creepy grin was still slapped across his face. Gojo didn’t wait for an answer. He leaned slightly, trying to catch a better look at you around Megumi’s frame. “She’s not your girlfriend, is she?”

“No,” Megumi shot back, the word flat and final, his tone leaving no room for interpretation. Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright. Touchy, huh?” His voice was playful, almost sing-song, but the way his gaze lingered on you felt a little too probing, a little too long for comfort had Megumi clenching his fists.

You swallowed hard, heat rising to your cheeks. Whether it was from embarrassment, unease, or the palpable tension between him and Megumi, you couldn’t quite tell. You hadn’t interacted with Gojo much, but the way Megumi’s entire presence had shifted told you everything you needed to know—Gojo wasn’t exactly a welcome sight. Whatever lightness existed in the air before was gone, replaced by an invisible but tangible weight pressing between the three of you.

Gojo might not have been dangerous, but he definitely gave the impression of someone who liked to push boundaries just to see how far he could go. His teasing nature seemed to thrive on reactions, and you could tell Megumi wasn’t in the mood to indulge him.

A stray thought crept into your mind....maybe Megumi had never mentioned you to anyone here... The idea hit harder than you expected, a dull ache settling in your chest. You banished it before it could take root—now wasn’t the time.

“Yo! There you guys are!”

A bright and cheery voice shattered the lingering tension. You turned to see a pink-haired boy jogging toward the group, a huge grin plastered across his face. His eyes were wide and warm, his energy unmistakable—this had to be the friend from the photo Megumi sent. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, a friendliness so genuine it seemed to pour off him in waves, reminding you immediately of an overexcited puppy.

Megumi stiffened beside you, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch before reluctantly offering a grumbled greeting. Yuji skidded to a stop just in front of you, planting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He straightened quickly, his grin softening into something almost shy when his eyes landed on you.

“Oh, hi!” he said, a light blush creeping onto his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his smile still firmly in place. “Sorry—I’m Yuji Itadori! You must be… uh…” His voice trailed off as his brow furrowed, the wheels in his head clearly turning as he tried to piece together who you might be.

Megumi let out a long sigh, his irritation practically radiating off him. “She’s with me,” he said flatly, stepping just slightly closer to you, his tone making it clear he wasn’t in the mood for explanations.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, his presence a much needed distraction. “Nice to meet you, Yuji,” you said warmly. Yuji’s face lit up even more at your friendly response. “Wow, Fushiguro never said anything about—”THWACK!

Before he could finish, Megumi stepped forward and smacked Yuji on the back of the head with a loud thunk that echoed down the trail, making you jump.

“Megumi!” surprise flooding your tone, trying to sound somewhat scolding. This had to be a first. You'd never seen Megumi so...

Yuji barely flinched, rubbing the back of his head for a second before laughing. “Jeez, Fushiguro! What’s with you today?” His grin stayed intact, though you couldn’t miss the slight wince that suggested the hit hadn’t exactly been gentle.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, still chuckling. “It’s fine! I’ve got an extra-thick skull anyway,” he added with a playful wink in your direction. You noticed Megumi seemed even more frustrated with the additional member, but he didn't comment on it. You wondered how long he'd hold out until he just left.

“Well, Megumi,” Gojo emphasized the name with a teasing lilt, his eyes flicking to you as if testing the waters. “This is…interesting. Didn’t mention you’d have company today.”

Megumi’s scowl deepened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s none of your business,” he shot back without hesitation. He hadn't even known you were coming. A mistake on your part obviously.

“Whoa, Fushiguro, didn’t know you were the overprotective type,” Yuji joked, though his curiosity was evident beneath the teasing tone.

Gojo leaned slightly. "She a friend or something?"

This all but confirmed your earlier suspicions. Megumi doesn't talk about you. You drew in a breath. “I’m his—” 

Megumi’s hand shot out, his grip firm but not harsh as it wrapped around your wrist. “We’re done here,” he muttered, his tone low and decisive. Without sparing a glance back, he began steering you away with purposeful steps, leaving no room for protest.

“Wait—what?” Yuji’s voice followed after you, completely baffled. But neither tried to stop him. Gojo chuckled quietly and gave a lazy wave. “See you around… whoever you are,” he called out, lighthearted, his eyes trailing you.

Why the hell was he so curious about you.

Megumi kept his grip on your wrist, practically dragging you along until the two of you reached a more private spot—a quiet little area tucked beneath an overgrowth of trees. Thick bushes surrounded the bench, adding a sense of seclusion that felt both calming and suffocating all at once. You recognized the place from earlier on your walk. It wasn’t far from the front entrance, and the realization sent a small pang through your chest. How many times would he make it obvious he didn't want you here until you'd get it? The self conscious part of you brain was screaming at you. feeling oddly shy with being here.

You stole a glance at him, catching sight of his face. His jaw, clenched, his gaze sharp and tunneled, like he was too lost in his own frustration to notice anything else. The tension in his features was unmistakable, and that tightness in your gut only grew.

When he finally let go of your wrist, you felt the cool air replace the warmth of his touch, though it didn’t ease the knot forming in your stomach. He sighed, his shoulders sinking slightly as some of the tension eased from his posture.

“What’re you doing here?” his voice, low but softer than before.

You could easily cry. Despite being the older one here, you felt more like a scolded toddler, small and out of place. But when your eyes met his, something shifted. The hard glare he’d been wearing was gone, replaced by a calmer expression, maybe even a little tired. His hands moved to his face, rubbing across his eyes as if trying to wipe away the remnants of his frustration.

You really needed to get ahold of yourself. Since when did it matter if he wanted you there? You were there to drop off something he forgot. Maybe it was just the embarrassment teens get when their overly affectionate parent comes to dote on them in front of their friends. Maybe theyd tease him about this later....

When he looked at you again, there was that particular softness in his gaze, the kind that made your chest ache. Your thoughts immediately cleared. Maybe he wasn't so upset with you...

“You embarrassed of me?” you joked weakly, forcing out a laugh that didn’t quite land. You prayed the faint hurt in your tone wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

Megumi’s eyes widened, caught off guard. Like he hadn't anticipated you actually being hurt by his actions. He could sense the tension in your voice, much like how you could sense his. He stared at you for what felt like forever, his mouth opening slightly as though he wanted to respond, only to close again as the words faltered. His head tilted just a fraction, his brows furrowing in thought, like he was scrambling for an excuse but coming up empty. The silence stretched between you, and for a moment, it seemed like he wasn’t sure what to say—or if he even could.

You chuckled, stepping forward to pinch his cheek lightly. “Relax,” you teased, quickly shoving down the lingering sting of your own feelings as you swung the strap off your shoulder and held the bag out to him. He wasn't mad at you. “I told you—I brought your bag. How can someone as responsible as you forget something like this, hmm?”

For a moment, Megumi just stared at the bag, like he couldn’t quite believe you’d gone out of your way for something so trivial. Slowly, he reached out to take it, his fingers brushing yours in the process. The brief contact wasn’t much, but you caught the faintest flush creeping into his cheeks.

“Thanks… mom,” he muttered, his voice quieter than usual, almost shy.

He eyed the second bag slung around your shoulder.

"Oh! And this is for you." He took the bag quizzically, peeking inside only for his eyes to light up. "Thought I'd at least bring your favorite." The packed dinner was a good choice. The awkward tension from earlier melted away as a warm smile spread across his face.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at how cute he was, the tense atmosphere already fading away. A small lull settled between you, the kind of silence that felt comfortable rather than strained. The overgrown trees swayed gently overhead, their leaves whispered softly in the breeze, wrapping the moment in an almost serene stillness. It was starting to get cold out. Soon enough, he would be due for another birthday. Yours had already passed a few weeks back.

Without warning, Megumi stepped forward, pulling you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close as his chin came to rest lightly on top of your head. The embrace was firm, not overbearing, and for a moment, you froze in surprise before leaning into it. He was always one for affectionate gestures... but....

“You should head back,” he said quietly, though there was a faint reluctance in his tone that made you nearly hesitate. You didnt want to leave just yet.

You nodded, your hands brushing his arms briefly before you pulled back. “Alright,” you replied softly, offering him another small smile before turning to leave.

As you walked back toward the path, you spotted Gojo and Yuji nearby, standing a little too still to pass as innocent. You were sure they were supposed to have left already, but there they were—watching. Not that you had anything you were particularly secretive about.

But Yuji’s gaze seemed to dart to anywhere but you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, while Gojo leaned casually against a tree, the ever-present grin on his face somehow managing to look even more smug.

The second your eyes met theirs, Yuji’s face flushed bright red. He muttered something under his breath, quickly averting his gaze as though he could disappear by sheer will. Gojo, on the other hand, stood there shamelessly. All cocky and arrogant. Immediately irritating you again.

Megumi stepped out from behind you, their eyes shifting over immediately. Gojo’s grin turned absolutely wicked, his quirked brow seeming ready to tease him endlessly. Yuji’s mouth twitched, as though he was trying—and failing—not to laugh, his wide eyes flicking between the two of you. 

Megumi, however, barely acknowledged them. He strode past you without a word, but as he did, you felt the faintest brush of his hand against your back. The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but deliberate enough to send a jolt through you. Your cheeks warmed instantly, and before you could even process the moment, Gojo gave an exaggerated cough. 

By the time Megumi reached their sides, Gojo and Yuji were all over him, poking his cheeks and teasing him relentlessly. You couldn’t help but wonder if they’d ever let him live down whatever they thought they’d seen. For someone as stoic as Megumi, seeing him soften must’ve been quite the sight for them.

You sighed quietly, feeling a little secondhand embarrassment for him.

The walk home was pretty silent.

It was hard to find much to do when the house was as silent as it was. Time seemed to crawl as you went through the motions of your routine, everything blurring together in the same, boring monotony.

You and Megumi exchanged texts here and there, but as always, he was evasive about certain topics. He avoided talking about his friends, that teacher, and especially his missions. No matter how many ways you tried to bring it up, he always managed to steer the conversation elsewhere.

But he seemed more comfortable sharing through photos—pictures of the meals he was eating, scenic views, and even the occasional selfie with a classmate or two. It seemed he was trying to include you more in his day to day life, maybe sensing your growing urge for something different. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about it.

He wasn’t supposed to be worrying about you like this—but when had Megumi ever not been thoughtful when it came to you?

He was always helping around the house, bringing home things you needed. He’d carry the heavier bags without being asked, and when he was home, he never went out much. Instead, he’d linger in your presence, watching the same TV shows you liked, or even sitting in complete silence, or even sun napping on the couch. A second shadow.

And if you were forced to admit it, he made the loneliness and monotony a lot easier to bear. His presence had a way of filling the empty spaces, making the house feel less like a silent box and more like a home.

When it came to you, Megumi seemed to have a sixth sense. He was always away at school when you were called out to your clan house, yet, without fail, he’d send you a message the second you got back, asking how you were. He always seemed to know when you were stressed or needed something—sometimes even before you realized it yourself. Megumi wasn’t just thoughtful. No, he was in tune with you in a way that felt almost uncanny.

And now that he was older… you couldn’t help but wonder. Did he still harbor that same puppy crush he had when he was younger? The thought made your head spin. Was he still seeing you in that light, or had it faded? He’d never fully confirmed it back then, never said anything outright. But he’d always been affectionate—hadn’t he?

Wasn’t he always like that? 

And yet… how would you feel about that?

No.

These weren’t the right questions to be asking. You still had a place here. You were still his stepmother. These weren’t the thoughts you should even be entertaining, not for a second. But the thought made you freeze in your tracks, the shirt you were folding suddenly feeling heavier in your hands. It was nearing his graduation—just a week away—and you didn't have the faintest idea what came after.

Would he be moving out? Would he stay home for a while to plan his next steps? Would he be doing Jujutsu work? 

And then there was the question you didn’t want to ask, the one that made your stomach twist. Would you still be allowed to stay here? Or would your clan come calling, pulling you out of the life you’d carefully built over the years? The main reason for you being here was Megumi and Toji. Forming those relationships and feeding small bits of information. But if neither of them were even going to be home....

No, surely they wouldn’t. Not after all this time. If they were going to do that, they would’ve already done it… wouldn’t they? Surely....They hadn't mentioned it before at least.

Toji had come home briefly the week before Megumi’s graduation, but it didn’t take long to learn he’d already taken on yet another mission. Despite the two of you growing closer over time, it never seemed to slow him down when it came to picking up those lengthy assignments that kept him away for days at a time.

This time was no different. He mentioned it was a high-profile case, one with the potential to drag on longer than expected. “Two weeks minimum,” and he wouldn’t be back in between.

It wasn’t anything new. Toji’s comings and goings had always been unpredictable, and you’d grown used to the empty spaces he left behind. But something about this mission left you uneasy. 

But for now, all you could do was wait.

come home

[adalitas-coffeebreak-corner]

Sweetheart

Remus Lupin x reader

A/N: This was voted second in the poll, so here ya go. This is 100% just fluff, read at your own discretion. Word count: 1k

Summery: Your roommate Remus leaves a bunch of handwritten notes around your flat, building up the courage to finally share the last one with you.

Remus preferred things in writing, which is something you’ve learned since moving in with him last September. Half a year has come and gone, and he always leaves a handwritten note whenever he goes anywhere, that would usually be left on your shared kitchen table.

Honestly you find it adorable. Maybe having a crush on your roommate is not such a good idea, but you have fallen fast and quickly.

Luckly you almost have no time to ponder your predicament, your work sucking every ounce of mental energy out of you, yet it isn’t necessarily because you dislike your job, everything just seemed to culminate the past couple of days.

Your usual routine though was peaceful, deep breaths as you nurse a cup of tea getting ready to go to leave (working later in the day does have it privileges) and right next to the kitchen sink, a little note pulling you further into the almost domestic bliss you have going on with Remus. Normally it is ordinary things such as Hello Dove, gone to see James and Lily or Dear Y/N, I’m out to get groceries, I’ll be back soon (“groceries” usually referring to his ever-growing chocolate stash)

But over the course of a week something had changed. Instead of just detailing his whereabouts Remus has left a ridiculous amount of notes across the flat for you to find, ranging from actual information to just outright compliments. All of them starting out the same, him just addressing you as sweetheart, making it impossible to keep the butterflies in your stomach down.

Remus, besides being the most considerate person to ever exist, calling you sweetheart? It isn’t too different from his usual nicknames for you, but mixed with the messages it does severely damage your iron grip containing your delusions.

Your smile brightens my day (Which you found wrapped around your toothbrush, Tuesday)

It reminded me of you (Next to a new book subtlety laying on your nightstand Wednesday morning, the cover beautifully adorned by your favorite flowers)

You got this, I believe in you dove (you found in your shoe, as you got ready to leave for work Thursday, which ironically made you a little late because of how teary-eyed you got)

Sirius dragged me along to some concert, but that new movie you wanted to see is laying next to the TV and there’s popcorn in the kitchen, so you can have a quiet evening. Sirius says hi (Was the first note you found that made you giggle and silently thank Remus for being a mind reader, needing desperately to spend your Friday night wrapped up on the couch)

I’ve restocked the tea cupboard. P.s there are also sweets in there, so you don’t have to go to the store on your day off. (Which was left by the coffee table on Saturday by the TV remote)

There is no comparison to the sweetness of your laughter (Which was laying on the before mentioned sweets in the tea cupboard)

Is there any way Remus could share your feelings?

It has quickly become the highlight of your day, finding the small notes scattered across your flat successfully distracting you from the stress of everyday life. As Monday roles around it’s no different. You make your way into the kitchen, finding the little piece of paper perched on top of your favorite mug.

As you open it your eyes excitedly skim through the lines.

Sweetheart, I’ve noticed how tense you’ve been the last couple of days, so I’ve gone out to pick up some essentials, and I’ll be here waiting for when you get home, love Remus.

It’s all you can think about during your shift, feeling the tense yet thrilling sensation of what might be planned for tonight and for the first time you can’t wait to get off work for an entirely different reason.

It’s perfect when you arrive home at the door of your shared flat, the place looking amazing, completely tidied up, string lights hanging up and down the walls.

“Hi dove, hope s’not too much” he simply greets you, having the guts to just stand there looking incredibly handsome yet timid.

When you don’t respond for a few seconds, your brain still confirming the reality of the situation, Remus starts to frenetically fill the silence.

“Cause I know that you’ve maybe been a little stressed and even though you’d tell me not to worry about it, I just thought it might help to take your mind off work for a bit, a-and the boys came over to help with tidying n’ stuff, I really didn’t ask them to, I just kinda’ mentioned wanting t’do something nice for you and they-“ his rant cut off with a soft yelp as you throw your arms around him, hugging him tightly muttering “It’s perfect Rem, thank you” as you close your eyes, saving the moment, completely missing out on the way he looks down at you with pure relief and adoration.

Neither one of you moving from your places in each other’s arms until you spot your favorite takeaway placed on the coffee table, letting out a sigh out before looking into your roommates’ eyes, searching for something to say, realizing in that moment how utterly and completely in love you are with him.

“I- erhm, I have one last note for you dove” his lips press into a thin line as he pulls it out from his pants pocket, handing it to you scanning your features for any sign that he’s going too far.

Theres a furrow in your brows before your laughter completely catches him off guard.

“If your ass was a canvass, I would want to be the painter?” You read the note aloud, amusement beaming from your puzzled expression, but Remus’ face pales instantly as he starts cussing Sirius out under his breath, pulling out another piece of paper switching them.

“That one was Sirius’ idea, I swear you weren’t meant to read it” Remus groans as his hands cover his face from your sight of his embarrassment. You can’t help but giggle as you give him a few seconds to recover, instead opting to read the three words that you’ve been waiting to read.

Sweetheart,

I Love You.

It’s almost scary how easy it feels to close the distance between your lips, your hands holding on to each other like you’re both afraid of letting go. It should be overwhelming how normal it feels to be bathed in the sunshine of Remus’ affection, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

[hannahbarberra162]

Imagine Thatch Reassuring You (Thatch x Reader, fluff)

WC: ~1.3k

TW: reader is insecure / having a bad body image day / unspecified reason for not liking seeing themselves in the mirror

Kinda NSFW, no sex happens but it's mentioned.

You were straddling your boyfriend’s massive lap on his couch, grinding on him as the two of you enjoyed another sloppy makeout session. As the Fourth Division Commander, Thatch had little downtime and the two of you liked to use it as best you could. Today Thatch was off for lunch service, leaving the two of you a delicious swath of time during the middle of the day together. You were already topless, your preferred way to be when alone, while Thatch had his clothes on.

You had one arm looped behind his neck and your other hand gripping his firm chest, while his own hands roved over your body, seemingly always returning to your ass. Thatch broke the kiss and started giving open kisses to your neck, making you sigh. Sex with Thatch was the best you’d ever had and not just due to your physical attraction to him. You felt connected, loved, and protected even when he was spanking or punishing you. He always left you with the sense that you were someone he cherished, someone he couldn’t live without. You weren’t sure why someone as incredible as him felt that way about someone like you, but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The two of you hadn’t exchanged “I love you’s” yet but you knew how you felt about the chef.

“I wanna try something new today,” Thatch murmured into your skin, one large arm spanning your upper back.

“Oh? Something new, hm? Alright,” you said with a giggle. Something new meant something fun - nipple clamps or anal plugs or being bound in a new way. You were game for all of it, you felt safe with Thatch and trusted his judgement. Thatch picked you off his lap and set you down on the couch, making you pout. 

“Ha, don’t worry. I won’t be gone long,” Thatch said, blowing you a kiss. You weren’t being too bratty yet, you didn’t think he was going to punish you for that. Thatch left his cabin, his massive erection pushing against the fabric of his pants. He was gone for less than a minute before he reappeared with a large freestanding mirror. Your brow furrowed and you frowned as you looked over the mirror. Thatch set it down facing the couch and plopped back down next to you.

“C’mere, I wanna show you something,” he purred at you, pulling you back into his lap. This time he had you facing the mirror as he began rolling your nipples in his large fingers. You turned your head to the side, ignoring the image in front of you completely.

“No, I want you to watch yourself in the mirror,” he chided, his hand grabbing your jaw and turning your head to face the reflection.

“Well, I don’t,” you stated flatly, twisting your head to look at the side of his cabin. “I don’t like this. Can you take it away? I wanna keep going but I don’t wanna look at…all that,” you said with a curl of your lip, waving your hand in the direction of the mirror. You didn’t want to use your safe word but if he wanted you to watch yourself you would. You saw Thatch give you a sad look from the corner of your eye. He turned you around so you were facing his front and away from the mirror.

“You don’t want to watch me?” he asked with hurt in his voice, a finger stroking down your cheek.

“What? No, no! I love looking at you, it’s not that. You’re the most attractive person I’ve ever been with, I can’t get enough of you. I don’t want to watch myself,” you said, disgust tinging the last word. You would never want Thatch to think he wasn’t incredible in every way, the thought that you’d hurt his feelings had you changing your tune immediately.  Thatch frowned and cupped your face in his hands, completely engulfing your cheeks in a tender caress. You tried to pull away again, this was getting a little too emotional for you. But Thatch’s gaze and hands didn’t waver and didn’t let you recede either.

“That’s…sad. We won’t do this if you don’t want to - I’ll put the mirror away. But it makes me upset to think you don’t see yourself like I do. I’m going to turn you around but we’re not going to fool around or have sex, OK? Please?” Thatch asked softly, finishing with a chaste kiss to your lips. You were still frowning but gave a small nod. Thatch turned you around so that you were both facing the mirror again but this time you used your hands to cover your breasts. It felt too raw to be emotionally open and naked at the same time.

“Do you know what I see?” Thatch asked, leaning his chin on your shoulder. You closed your eyes while he was waiting for your answer. He nuzzled into your neck, so close his stubble was rubbing your sensitive neck. 

“Look, just for a moment. See what I see,” Thatch whispered imploringly, his arms wrapping around your middle to pull you flush against his hairy chest. You leaned your head back against him seeking the warm comfort of his embrace. Protection, really, against the harsh reality of what you saw in the mirror. You cracked open your eyes to see your sweet, caring boyfriend and the all too familiar image of yourself in the mirror. After tucking your hair behind your ear, Thatch starts to speak.

“I see someone wholly, completely, and utterly wonderful. I see someone who is the best thing that’s come into my life since I set sail with Whitebeard decades ago. I see someone who isn’t perfect  - you’ve lived a life like anyone else. You have your flaws and your quirks but that doesn’t make you anything but human. You’re not perfect but you're perfect for me,” Thatch said softly, rubbing your sides. You were crying a little bit, your chin wobbling as Thatch soothed your turbulent feelings. Still, you held the image of Thatch comforting you in your eyes as he continued.

“Ace was annoying Marco the other day on deck asking if Marco would love him if he was a worm. I didn’t even have to think for a second. I’d love you if you were a worm, if you were a spider, if you lost a limb, if your tits hung to the floor, I wouldn’t care. None of that matters. What matters is you. Your body is only one part of you, and I love it too. But there's so much more I love about you. I love your smile, your attitude, your morning breath, your intelligence, your sense of humor," he continued, kissing your temple. Now you were truly crying, your tears running down your cheeks. 

“Do you know why?” Thatch asked, kissing away a tear. You shook your head, unsure if your voice would hold for words.

“Because I love you,” he said simply, turning your face to his with one of his hands. 

“Even like th-iis?” you said, voice cracking. You were sure you looked a mess, you’d been told you were an ugly crier as a child and it had always been another insecurity.

“Like this,” he confirmed without hesitation. You uncovered your breasts and turned halfway in his lap so you were facing him.

“I love you too,” you said, looking into his eyes. Leaning forward, you grabbed his shoulders to pull him towards you, kissing him with everything in your soul.

~~~ Later~~~

Reader: So, would you love Ace if he was a worm? 🧐🧐🧐

Thatch: Absolutely not. I’d feed him to Marco. (he wouldn't).

@mfreedomstuff

[glamourscat]

OKUMURA BROTHERS ANALYSIS

I want to sympathise with Yukio, and in some ways, I do. He grew up in such an erratic way, forced to train at just seven years old and put under a level of stress no kid should ever face. Forced by his father figure to join the exorcists, explicitly for Rin’s sake, because Yukio had to “look out for him.” So, he starts training, becomes one of the youngest exorcists in the order, and develops this perfectionist mindset where mistakes simply can’t exist in his world.

The truth is, both Rin and Yukio were raised by a man who wasn’t even sure how to be a man himself. He had no clue what it really meant to live as a human being. He was raised as a machine by the order and whether he meant it or not, he ended up raising Yukio and Rin to be machines too, because that’s all he knew.

Then everything falls apart. Rin’s a mess, blaming himself for their father’s death and Yukio is emotionally and mentally burnt out after years of acting like a parent to Rin (who lets no forget got a completely different childhood than Yukio) and to himself.

So no, I don’t necessarily blame Yukio. As someone who’s been parentified myself, I get his anger and frustration. Feeling invisible while your sibling gets all the attention. Drowning in your own pain while everyone assumes you’re “strong enough” to handle it.

The difference comes when Rin, unlike Yukio, begins to confront his powers and accept them as part of who he is, Yukio doesn’t. He sees his powers as a flaw, proof of everything he hates about himself. He doesn’t understand them and doesn’t want to.

To Yukio, control equals survival. And his “powers” are nothing but a miscalculation in his perfect equation. Rin is a bursting flame (pun intended) who cannot be tamed. Rin’s carefree nature and willingness to accept their chaotic world, threats the fragile wall Yukio has built around himself. Rin challenges everything he knows and believes in just by existing.

While Rin’s arc is about self-acceptance, Yukio’s is about denial. He can’t reconcile his human (and that hint of a possible demonic side) so he lashes out at the person who reminds him of everything he’s running away from, Rin.

Ultimately, they’re both products of a system that values survival over happiness. Rin fights to break free from it, while Yukio becomes more entrenched, continuing the cycle that hurt him. Because that’s the only thing he knows. And the only thing he is allowing himself to know. So no, I cannot blame someone who was never taught how to deal with their own feelings and thus, explode when everything becomes too much.

What I do blame him for, though, are his calculated actions. What Yukio went through is an explanation on why he acts a certain way, but not a pass to excuse his actions.

Hurting his own brother, even when he knows it’s wrong. Shooting Rin whenever it’s convenient. Cussing him out. I get why he’s like this, I really do. I just can’t ignore, though, how the victim in this situation turned into the one doing the harm. He’s letting the cycle continue. Father Fujimoto trained him to be a soldier and without even realising it, Yukio keep pushing those same ideals onto Rin.

The sad truth about the twins is this: Yukio can keep hurting Rin over and over again and Rin will still forgive him. Because Rin loves his brother with all his heart. And Yukio? It’s not that he hates Rin, he does care, but he doesn’t have enough self respect to know what it means to properly care and show that care to someone he loves.

[sirhamburrger]

DIE WITH A SMILE (m. bachira x reader)

━☆ (post-apocalypse au, for day three of @phantasmaebg) ━☆ in which the only thing you can do is join him in undeath. ━☆ wc (written portion): 831 || tags/cw: f!reader, reader is a researcher working on a cure for the virus, bachira is part of an elite military squad, major character deaths (both bachira and reader, among others)(this is a zombie apocalypse au after all) || event m.list ━☆ why did i write this... this is so sad *runs away crying*

meguru bachira is beautiful. a little tired - that much is evident from the dark circles under his golden eyes - but still: beautiful. his eyes practically light up when you step into the room, clad in full personal protective equipment. 

for a moment you get self conscious of how you look dressed like a walking banana, but that all disappears when he chuckles warmly, making you blush beneath your mask.

“you’re even more beautiful than i expected,” the squadron member breathes.

you cock your head to the side, highly skeptical as you take a seat in front of him. “you can only see my eyes, though,” you point out, voice muffled.

“yeah, well.” a short pause, then, “they say true beauty is all in the eyes.”

you don’t quite know how you should respond to that, so you don’t.

you end up talking to him than is honestly necessary for the psych eval. he’s a sweet man, and the things his squad-mates have said about him are proven true - optimistic, cheerful, perceptive. somehow, the man you’ve only ever been able to talk to over the phone from behind a reinforced glass panel has become one of the people you trust most in this world.

maybe it’s the way he listens to you intently about the stresses of work, lets you confide in him about hard days - especially really hard days when you find out another one of you has been lost to the virus - trusts you enough to spill his own secrets too.

maybe it’s the way he laughs, or calls you pretty when he’s not calling you “doc”. maybe it’s the way you relate to him, both being people with risky jobs. in a broken world like this, either of you could go at any minute. but he helps you accept it, and he helps you embrace it.

but maybe it’s the way he tries to reach a hand out to hold yours on the table during a particularly hard part of the conversation, but restrains himself, a dejected and heartbroken expression on his face.

how ironic that the only thing you want is the only thing you cannot have. not just yet, at least.

it’s been three days since squad z perished in tokyo’s biggest hot zone, and meguru is not doing well.

it started with erratic vitals - high blood pressure, arrhythmia, severe migraines, then escalated  violent outbursts. your superiors don’t allow you in the room with him any more, even though you’d bet your life he would never hurt you. it hurts to see him like this. delirious, in mourning, broken.

he is not the man he once was, and you’re not entirely sure he’ll live long enough to see that change.

he still talks with you, so at least that hasn’t changed. you are one of the last few scientists on earth even remotely close to synthesising a cure, since many have been wiped out already. it’s stressful, frankly, and you’ve had shameful, selfish thoughts about ending it all - joining the dead before you are forced to walk amongst them. but meguru tells you to keep your chin up, doc, you’re getting there.

and who are you to say no to him, if not for the fact that he’s not doing much better himself?

you open up to him once, more than you think you should. you tell him about how you’ve wanted to be a scientist for the longest time as a child, but before that, you wanted to be a singer. but your parents saw no future in it. so you never pursued it further.

in the quiet of the space between you, then, meguru bachira asks if you would sing for him.

and you do.

you don’t even notice when he starts to cry, but you know that you’re crying too.

you bring him flowers sometimes. he lets them die in a corner of the confinement cell. you can’t blame him for not even trying.

the horde has broken in.

all your colleagues, your superiors, your friends - they’re all gone. they’ve all been reduced to mindless monsters, hungry for human flesh. now, those monsters push against the door, trying to get to you.

you stare back through the glass, eyes landing on meguru, who convulses on the ground, clutching his head. his head jerks backwards, blood spilling from his mouth. just like all the others. you let out a sob, your heart aching for him.

you fumble for your phone.

the air smells like blood, and meguru looks like hell.

you pad towards him slowly, tears streaming down your face. you freeze when he notices you, hunger in his bloodshot eyes. you take a step towards him. hold his hand. embrace him. tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.

he’s crying now as he mumbles something. it sounds like i’m sorry and thank you. maybe it’s both. you feel hot breath on your neck, and his sharp teeth sinking into your skin.

and all is well in the world.

bllk masterlist || general masterlist © sirhamburrger 2025

[melon-fodder]

cw: fingering, female orgasms, praise (?)

~

It takes a long time for Shouta to get you off.

It has nothing to do with him; he has plenty of experience and the patience of a saint. No, it’s entirely you.

He’s assured you a few times that he doesn’t care how long it takes or how messy you get or what sounds your body makes. He’s a grown fucking man. Still, you shrug it off, tell him that you’re more than okay with toys. You found what works for you and want to stick with it, and okay, he won’t argue. Your comfort is his top priority after all.

The sex is great, ranging from loving, languid sessions in the early morning hours to dirty fucking that makes it hard to look each other in the eye the following day. No matter what, though, it always ends with you and your vibrator. Sometimes you stay in bed, let Shouta watch with half-lidded eyes. Other times you scurry off to the bathroom so you can just hop in the shower when you’re finished.

He doesn’t take it personally, mostly because he knows he’d be able to get you off if given the chance. Not frustrated, just curious.

It takes months for you to finally let this wall down, and it’s only because you’re half delirious from Shouta’s fingers relentlessly toying with you for the last half hour. You don’t say it explicitly, no sweet little whine of please make me cum, sho (you’ll get there eventually). You just don’t tell him to stop, so he doesn’t.

Kneeling between your spread legs, Shouta listens to the way your breath hitches over and over again, little hiccups that turn into little mewls that turn into whispered swears and drawn out moans. Your thighs twitch every time he brushes your clit, whole body trembling when he dedicates most of his attention to the slick bud.

Your facial expression changes by the second, scrunched up as if in pain for a moment only to go completely slack the next. You squeeze your eyes shut only for them to pop back open in something like alarm before rolling into the back of your head.

He slips a finger inside of you to give you something to clench around, gives your clit a little break as he massages up and down your leaky slit, then picks back up.

Your body jack-knifes, air punched from your lungs, but still you don’t tell him to stop.

Shouta stares, his own heart starting to beat faster and harder as you quake beneath him. You moan his name. Gasp. Whimper. Keen. Pulled tight like a bowstring, fingers twitching, lip caught between your teeth. It looks like you’re being tortured.

Except slick is dripping from your pussy, seeping out around the fingers you’re fluttering around, and at this point if you asked him to stop, Shouta isn’t sure he’d be able to.

Because you’re so pretty, so fucking cute like this, chest moving rapidly with breaths that are much too shallow. Your lips part and tremble, forming the shape of a word only to be cut off by some animalistic noise. Your eyes are still rolling everywhere and nowhere, eyebrows knit together, and it seems like you’re on the edge forever. Shouta doesn’t think you can get any more tense than you are, and yet you somehow manage. He’s got you wound so tight, it’s a wonder your muscles aren’t cramping. Are you even breathing at all?

Your back arches suddenly, painfully, a broken moan pouring from your mouth, and then you’re spasming around his fingers, undulating and sobbing and cumming harder than Shouta ever thought possible.

“Oh g-god fu—oh~”

You’re unintelligible, gasping and panicking as your hips keep rolling. Shouta stops the onslaught on your clit but doesn’t remove his fingers, lets you clench around them as he moves to hover over you.

He shushes you gently, presses his forehead against yours and tells you, “deep breath, baby, it’s okay, just take a deep breath for me.”

And you do. It’s a fractured, shuddering thing, but it fills your chest, and Shouta nods in approval. “Good, good job, just like that. Again.”

Your eyes slowly lock onto his, not quite so wide anymore but now brimming with tears. You aren’t trembling the way you were before, simply shivering as if in some form of shock.

You whimper when he withdraws his fingers, but Shouta just nuzzles against your cheek, wiping his hand on the sheets before bringing it up to swipe the tears from your cheeks.

“You back with me?” he asks with a smile you can’t see. You take another deep breath and nod. “Good, that was so good.”

He’s not all that surprised when you wrap your arms around him and pull him down on top of you.

“Deep pressure,” you rasp, and Shouta chuckles, situating himself so that you’re taking the weight of his torso while his lower half rests between your legs.

You shake for a little while longer, humming every now and then as he strokes your hair, until your breaths resume a more even pace.

“Always more intense when it’s not my own hand,” you muse, voice quiet and strained, and Shouta makes a noise of acknowledgement to show he’s listening, “but that was… I didn’t think…”

He angles his face to stare at you now, eyebrow quirked. “You mean that’s not how it always is for you? I figured that was why you never let me…”

You shake your head. “No, I just go for my vibrator cause I’m impatient. Wasn’t trying to hide anything from you. If I knew it could be like that, though…”

Shouta presses a kiss to your sternum before pushing himself back up to his hands and knees.

“What, you would’ve let me do this sooner?” He’s a little too smug about it, especially considering how genuinely concerned he was just minutes ago. Now that you’ve calmed down, though, he can actually bask in the fact that he basically had your brains melting out of your fucking ears.

The sound that comes out of you is an incredulous sort of gurgle. Shouta doesn’t give you time to try to expand on it, just noses up your neck and teases in that deep voice he knows you love, “Will you let me do it again?”

[the-raven-and-the-tower]

Viago de Riva; forgotten son with a found family of assassins (a brief but angsty dive)

Born one royal bastard of many to King Fulgeno II of Antiva, Viago was born without a lot of choices, but one very large one;

Exile or the Antivan Crows.

VIago was the only one of all Fulgeno's bastards that chose the Crows, a choice that put him on a path of shadows and blood. Turning his back on the only home he has ever known for the ruthless world of the Crows, Viago had to forge his own house and find his own family, turning his back on a royal lineage that never wanted or acknowledged him.

Viago has walked in both worlds, where betrayal can come from any direction and alliances are often temporary - in either world, his survival has hinged time and time again on his vigilance and natural mistrust of others. More than once, the only thing that has kept him alive was the way he builds tolerance to poisons and insists on testing everything he eats. I have to wonder if Viago has ever truly rested, he's always alert, always keeping one step ahead of all the threats on every side - always in danger, both as a bastard who could be seen as a threat to the legitimate line and as a Crow Talon surrounded by ambitious assassins.

And then there's his relationship with Teia 💜

I love the humanity of Viago's struggle to love and be loved. As a royal bastard, he would have been inherently unwanted and constantly reminded of his illegitimacy - daily reminders to ingrain a perpetual sense of unworthiness and isolation into him. I love the honesty of how he struggles to open up and be vulnerable, even with someone like Teia from within the world of the Crows.

The two of them live in a dangerous world, where personal relationships can become weapons in the wrong hands. Viago has every reason to shy away from Teia (and sometimes does), yet that inherent need for perception and connection drags him out of safety and back into her arms, time and time again.

All of that to say loooooooooooook at this fourth draft of a letter Teia is helping Viago write to send to his dad about the situation in Treviso with the Butcher.

King's Draft: Action on Behalf of Antiva

As Seventh Talon, I give notice that the Antivan Crows have drawn a contract against the enemies of Treviso, the Antaam. (Teia)

Teia, the Seventh Talon, is writing to inform of the situation, rather than Viago (Fifth Talon). We don't know if she's stepping up to protect Viago from his asshole father or if Viago doesn't speak to the king often on principle (he does in prior Dragon Age content), or if this is simply how it is done - maybe there's an existing agreement among the Crows to avoid political complications by keeping the king and his son seperate. Any way the cookie crumbled, I like these crumbs.

It is not the Antaam. (Viago)

We aren't required to give His Majesty a point-by-point, but he's your blood, Viago. It is a courtesy to let him know we are going to war. (Teia)

"He's your blood, Viago." I don't know if this is a reminder of his unique ability to bridge two vastly different worlds or if it is just a reminder of political significance, but either way it struck me as significant. Despite his royal blood being a source of personal pain, it provides Viago leverage in ways that other Crow Talons could never wield, not even Caterina.

The occupying Antaam are strong, driven, fanatical. They cannot be reasoned with because reason is just a weapon to be resisted. They can be killed, of course, but removing a leader does not remove their desire to be led. They are a force we must contend with, but they are NOT Treviso's true enemy. (Viago)

A name, Viago. Contracts require a stabber and a stabbee. (Teia)

Teia (child street thief turned Crow) is the pragmatic and operational, focusing on fulfilling the requirements as a formality, while our baby boi Viago the Strategic is firmly honed in on reality and understanding the details. Teia wants to take the next step to move forward, Viago wants to understand the problem before making the next move. They are so different and I love the way their differences lend their relationship strength, rather than pulling it apart.

Teia, you know my doubts. The Butcher took the city too easily, and there is dealing with the gods there that I dread to know. But I fear that the true enemy of Treviso is not known because they ARE known, merely unrevealed. (Viago)

"The Hand That Leashed Treviso." Is that nebulous enough? (Teia)

I like this. Sarcastic, yet she's showing that she's listening to Viago's concerns and hearing them.

Yes, that is a series of someones we can eventually kill. But not something we can send my father. (Viago)

And he acknowledges being heard, but points out the impracticality of presenting such a target to his father. Again, I think it's fucking significant that he refers to Fulgeno as his father and not as the king. Whether he's tying himself verbally to his unique position, subconsciously reacting to his abandonment by the royal family or just responsing to Teia's "he's your blood" earlier, it feels powerful. Like the kick in the gonads I'd like to five Fulgemo.

On to draft five, then. Neri, begin again. (Teia)

It says a lot to me that they're having this entire conversation in front of their scribe. Doubtless someone sworn to secrecy already, it just strikes me as wholesome that they're comfortable having these disagreements in front of Neri. They may agree yet, but they're committed to it. And their disagreement has no weight on their opinions of each other.

Viago de Riva, Fifth Talon Andarateia Cantori, Seventh Talo Transcribed: Neri de Acutis

[ladypiscesmoon]

Year ahead Timothée Chalamet & Armie Hammer

(Ask me anything you want to know about the reading)

Overall 2025 (Lenormand)

The moon, the garden, the bouquet Combinations: -Being recognized in public -Gaining notoriety all over the world - Influencing a group -Your social group influencing you -Showing people how social you are. -Intuitively gifted - Influencing someone with gifts -Swaying someone with your values. -Keeping up appearances for social reasons -Enjoying becoming a socialite. Thoughts: -The bouquet is often associated with the Spring. I do feel things will be going into a better direction between them in the Spring. -Until we do I think we are going to see Timmy on his PR journey, and Armie being trying to be true to himself.

The crossroads, the lily, the fish

Combinations: -Crossroads can represent two people, in this reading Armie and Timmy -The card can also mean that the situation will only progress once you make some clear-cut decisions.  -Choices over sex -Choosing peace -Pick the older person -Choosing the person/situation which causes you less stress. -Business decisions -Choosing money -Deciding to be fluid Thoughts: -Standing at a crossroad, making choices -Making choices together -Timmy with Armie (older person) -PR will end, although it's always unclear when exactly in Tarot (things are not always fixed in Tarot)

The bear, the rider, the dog

Combinations -Strength, power, heavy, lifestyle, force -News, messages, what approaches, what is leaving -Respect for authority -Obeying an authority figure -support of a mother -Follow a lifestyle. -Friends, loyalty, respect, confidants, followers, pets. -Friends bring messages -Visits from a friend -Acts which prove how loyal someone is to you. Thoughts: -For the last few years I have seen a dog for them, but because they separated it didn't come up again. They might get a dog or -something after they are reunited. -They will build their home together -Support from friends and some family (although I don't think Armie's mother will respect their relationship)

Month to month

January

10 of wands (burn-out, uphill battle, taken for granted) Coffee cup (meeting and conversing, savoring the moment, feeling uplifted, friendship) Take your power back (you are giving someone control over how you feel, your happiness should only depend on you) Thoughts: Wanting to meet up or at least call, feeling low and exhausted. I feel this is more Timmy than Armie. He has given away the control over his own happiness and he should take it back. Only then he will have the chance prove Armie he's not taking him for granted. Things are still strained

February

The hermit (soul searching, solitude, contemplation) The grim reaper (the relationship is over. No second chances. Grow and transform your life) Open yourself to others (this is how you will create new friendships and attract a love relationship) Thoughts: Timmy thinks he has lost Armie for good, but he will get him back if he is honest to him and opens up about what made him make those terrible decisions last year. He just has to go within and think through how he can make things better between them and Armie will give him a second chance.

March

The emperor (dependability, authority, structure) Mirror (mirroring each other, self-image, relationships, reflect our wounds, introspection) Engagement (your love life is soon ascending to a high level of commitment) Thoughts This could be the month they will start communicating to each other again, mirroring each other as ever. If they will, they have really have to be open and honest with each other and they will feel better again.

April

Page of swords (curious, clever, chatty) Ax (break up, separation, stop the pattern, silent treatment, abandonment) Be optimistic (keep in mind that you create your reality, you can't attract love with a negative mindset) Thoughts Doing their best not to assume the worst, trying to. break the former pattern of not taking everything through, trying to stay optimistic

May

The Star (faith, renewal, healing) The sword and the rose(clarity, truth, revelation, solidarity, force, honor, protection, power) Magnetic connection (there is a very strong pull and intensity that draws you to this person) Thoughts -healing and feeling the strong connection and pull to each other

June

king of swords (intelligent, head over heart, logical) photograph (looking at your photos, missing you, nostalgia, make new memories) past lives (you have known this person before, it's a soul mate from a past life-time) Thoughts: thinking practical about their future making new memories together they know each other from past lives

July

7 of wands (connection, defiance, stand your ground) engagement ring (engagement, partnership, commitment, eternity, completion, union) they are the one (you have already met the romantic partner you seek) Thoughts Just feeling this is the one and having each others back. Maybe thinking of the next step, like moving in with each other August

The fool (innocence, new beginnings, leap of faith) passion (insane chemistry, like each other equally, having fun) You are enough (the person you are meant to be with will love you the way you are. You don't need to change) Thoughts: definitely thinking about the next step. Wanting to have pets/living together.

September

The empress (nurturing, fairness, growth) Love (unconditional love, self-love, oneness, passion, affection, attraction) third party situation (other people may interfering with this relationship and dimming its potential Thoughts: Staying strong together, even if people are trying to break them up. Having each others back. Loving the connection

October

king of coins reversed (corrupt, greedy, materialistic) sunglasses (watching, looking, stalking, gaslighting, perception, focusing out) make the effort (this love is worth taking risks, you are called to move forward) Thoughts: People trying to come between them, maybe false accusations, or blackmail, people stalking them. They have to stick together and it will pass

November

the sun (success, optimism, openness) twin flames (yin and yang, zen, balance, union, duality, coupling complement each other) nothing has gone wrong (trust the process, this connection is divinely timed) Thoughts They are stronger together. They are exactly where they should be. Divine connection, twin flames.

December

10 of swords (traumatic events, playing the victim, immense pain) love call (someone expresses love, a message of love, thinking of you and letting you know) have faith (the angels are working behind the scene to make this relationship flourish.) Thoughts: Someone is losing a family member, or this family member is very ill? Focus elsewhere but still staying strong

What could be potential blocks for them to freely love each other?

Trust issues both are suffering from this and they have to move on from it. Talk it out and tell each other where they come from and how they can move forward Low self esteem I think Armie has learned to forgive himself for his mistakes and also in therapy learned to love himself more. I think Timmy still has issues with that. He has to grow a bit, still, but he's getting there. Believing everyone leaves and feeling onlovable I would saty this is more Armie than Timmy, I think Armie has to convince himself he's worth loving. These are his old issues, but he's very lovable. He shouldn't be afraid Self blame I feel Timmy has to move on from blaming himself to not making the right choices, especially last year and especially in love. He has to forgive himself for his own mistakes Feeling incomplete They both don't feel complete without the other. They will be stronger together if they will fully have each other's backs.

Angel numbers 1010 It's up to you! (moderation, patience, flow, clarity, joy, movement, self-realization, taking action, unconditional love) 0 is the number of divine consciousness in numerology, and 11 is a notorious twin flame number because it represents the mirror work that twin flames experience during their healing journey. Together, 1010 is a sacred number representing divine union on the way. 0707 compromise (self-awareness, forgiveness, empathy, professionalism, tenacity and freedom) The number 707 in twin flame symbolism often represents spiritual awakening, introspection, and alignment with divine guidance. Seeing 707 may indicate that positive changes are underway in the twin flame journey, encouraging both to trust in their inner wisdom and spiritual growth. 0808 swift action (wealth, empathy, promises, commitment, affection, inner strength, auspicious outcomes) They are both healing! Seeing this repeated number means they both have completed a soul lesson as part of their healing journey and it's allowed them to reclaim their power. 1551 hold your vision (manifestation, abundance, money, dreams, vision and prosperity)  A sign it's time to take the next step in your relationship. If you've had a falling out with your twin flame, you may soon reunite. Continue to focus on your personal growth, and your reunion will be a success.

Light/shadow tarot

The hanged man ( I'm taking a break from everything so I can meditate and release my old ways of thinking. This process is not that easy) I feel like Armie is still struggling with the way he was brought up in a very traditional way. Being with Timmy would mean he has to let go of these thoughts. It will also mean some people will frown upon it (friends/family) six of wands (every time we get passed our arguments and get on the same page, I feel on top of the world and I succeed in all I do.) Armie was struggling to see why he would give up a traditional relationship to be with Timmy, but he knows now that when they do communicate properly and are honest to each other, he's happier than he ever was before. I simply can't let Timmy go. ace of pentacles (I feel so rich for knowing true love. I now see how easy it is to create wealth, when you know someone like you, to love.) I feel like Timmy now sees what it will cost him to give up Armie, to not have that true love anymore. For all his ambition, he's seeing now it also very lonely at the top. He needed this separation to come to that conclusion. knight of wands (the fact that you are so mysterious is very thrilling and it turns on my passion, cause I don't know what to expect.) I think both feel that about each other, the unusual and unexpected aspects of both their characters makes the other even more desirable. ace of swords (since I met you, my mind has expanded to so many new ideas and ways of thinking, enhancing my brain power like never before) Both have changed each others views and opinions of the world. Their thinking, their way of loving another being. This is the biggest lesson they have learned from each other and they know in their hearts how much it is worth. nine of cups (I feel grateful for everything in my life, especially you! I want to enjoy more happy times together and make love all night) Nothing to add here :)

Twin flame ascension

11:11 compassion (higher heart opening) They have to heal their heart by letting go of judgement of each other that created the separation between them. 1111 is believed to be a sign that your thoughts and intentions are manifesting rapidly. During twin flame separation, this can serve as a reminder to focus on positive thoughts and intentions.

4:4 transformation (battle of Head vs. Heart) The 44 angel number twin flame separation is a necessary step in the spiritual growth of both individuals, and it will ultimately lead to a stronger, more fulfilling relationship. Listen to your heart rather than your head, don't resist change and avoid taking necessary actions. Both have been listening more to their heads and the arguments they could come up with why to stay separated last year. They have to face their fears and it will lead to tremendous transformation.

8:8 Honor your agreement (mission in motion) Angel number 88 suggests that abundance and restoration are on the horizon for twin flame relationships. It signifies that love and respect will be restored if your relationship has faced difficulties. Release karmic patterns

Messages:

Both: I dream about you at night Dreams come to them both about the other I love you to the moon and back They know both that this is the strongest they have ever felt about someone else Timmy: you light up my world you have to be patient I need to sort things out first, before I can come to you Will you help me? Armie: Time will tell if he can trust Timmy fully again I want you It's not a matter of not wanting him, it's just a matter of not wanting to come last My beloved That's how he thinks about Timmy

*This reading is alleged/ for entertainment purposes only*

[pseudowho]

Is living domestic life what you imagined it to be as a child/teen? I never thought I'd live this long and I dont know for how long I'll live anyway, but the thought of joy being found in the mundane keeps me going. Is it worth it?

By "domestic life", am I first to assume that you mean a 'nuclear family' in the classic sense?

Based on context, I'm going to assume so.

I also don't know why you feel, strictly, that you should have died and may yet die soon. I cannot make any assumptions on your health, physical or mental, so this also means all I can give you is my own experience. I don't mean to advise one not asking for advice, anyway; all you have asked for is insight.

So I came from the sort of family where, for the most part, being 'a mother' was every woman's main identity. It was just what the women were. For most of my life, I never assumed I would be anything but a mother. It's funny, because in hindsight, none of the rest of my life and career aspirations strictly matched with being 'a mother' in the traditional sense, so I clearly had a long term delusion, there.

If I had known how distinctly in possession of myself I was, I might have known how hard it would be to give myself up, for babies.

Either way...for context: I fell very hard in love, and we grew up together (from ages 14/15) still in love, and we are now 31 and 32. I am a midwife, he is an English Professor/Lecturer and Teacher. We married aged 22/23. We have three sons, aged 7, 4 and 1.

Good things about domestic life:

Loneliness isn't a thing, here.

Lots and lots of affection, both physical and emotional.

The load of life is shared (note: I have a husband who is very, very outside of the norm, with no toxic masculinity and an approach to equality/equitability in work, childcare and housework).

When you are your own family unit, you're pressured less by family to get involved in their shit. Because you've got your own shit.

Living with the love of your life is amazing.

Having babies who are half you, and half the love of your life, is an incredibly beautiful thing.

Raising babies, although supremely difficult, is a joy.

Taking turns being at home and at work is helpful.

You learn to be much more compromising, patient and forgiving.

Bad things about domestic life:

You don't realise how much personal identity, independence or privacy you will lose, being a parent.

Exhaustion.

Parenting is hard. Really hard. Really, really hard.

Finding time for each other, as a couple, is also hard. Any time you do find, at least one of you is likely exhausted.

Good god, so much cooking.

Good god, so much laundry.

Good god, I swear I just vacuumed yesterday.

Good god, groceries are expensive.

Barely keeping your head above water with life admin and finances and childrearing and housework and work and life and ever having any time alone, is absolutely real.

Very very little downtime.

If you are someone who finds joy in the mundane, then yes, you may find a lot of joy in domesticity. So much of it really is mundane; being at home with kids, is often simultaneously boring and stressful. Very odd. Perhaps I'll miss it when they're older.

My personal favourite moment, is the happy sigh at the end of every day, when the kids are in bed, and the house is largely clean, where you fall into each other's arms, and he looks at you like you built the world for him, and just says:

"Hello. You are beautiful."

And I bury my face in his chest, and breathe in the smell of him, and the stale cologne, and the sweat, and life, and say:

"God, I missed you. More than you know."

And it's basically the same, every day.

In a kind of beautiful way.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[lichbarry]

OKAY SO! WORKING BACKWARDS:

10. Loop/Mal du Pays. They're as far from the same person as you can possibly get. Loop is Changed into a whole new entity that is (initially) unrecognizeable as anyone other than themself. Mal du Pays is an embodiment of specifically Siffrin's Sadness. Regardless of if Mal du Pays actually represents all past Siffrins, Loop as they are would not be included among them, and we have no reason to believe they ever encountered Mal du Pays on their own. That's two different characters.

9. Loop/Comic. Closer, but still different characters on account of Loop's Change. Even more different considering they're in slightly different canons-- the differences between the Comic and Start Again are even more drastic than the differences between Start Again and ISAT. With the Comic as it is (especially since it wrapped itself up pretty nicely, making it explicitly a videogame and introducing NG+ Sif as their own entity), I don't think Loop would have ever come to exist in that canon, so they're pretty much as different as Loop and Mal are (with the exception of that extra layer of removal from the identity of Siffrin.)

8. Start Again/Mal du Pays. Like I said, we have no reason to believe Start Again ever encountered Mal du Pays, nor if they would have gotten to that point before Wishing out. Since Start Again is still Siffrin and Mal is still a projection of Siffrin, they're closer to being the same person than MDP and Loop, but it can still be understood to be not the same character.

7. Sif/Loop. There are plenty of comics and fanfictions that say everything there is to say about the discrepencies of personhood going on here. I'll just point again to Loop's change and their own rejection of Siffrin's identity and leave it there.

6. Comic/Mal du Pays. This one was almost switched with Sifloop, but my uncertainty about what exactly MDP is kept it a little higher up. The thing is that I'm including two other selves as Comic Siffrin-- Comic Sif and NG+ Sif as introduced in the last one. NG+ Sif is not distinct enough to be their own character as much as Loop is, but it's still a different perspective... more importantly, the way NG+ Sif is presented makes it the closest thing Comic Sif has to Mal du Pays. They were cast in the same role, just in two drastically different productions.

5. Sif/Mal du Pays. Again... it's not Sif, but it's the embodiment of their own grief & devastation. They are still distinct entities, but MDP is a direct shadow of them, is made in the negative of their image. I'd say this is even closer to the idea of fucking your evil clone than Sifloop is.

4. Sif/Comic. Now we're really getting into it. Is Comic actually called Siffrin? I don't know. I don't think so, and I don't care enough to scroll through the blog right now trying to find out. But... c'mon. Distinct canons or not, that is so recognizeably the same character. They're two different cosplayers getting called up for "Siffrin" at the photoshoot. They are more than close enough, and they would recognize each other as himself.

3. ISAT/Start Again. It's everything about Sifloop that makes Sifloop selfcest, but without the Loop. There is no Change here. This is, in some ways literally, the same Siffrin before and after clearing their cache. It's the exact same identity in (probably?) the exact same body.

2. Start Again/Comic... I'm actually changing my mind. I don't feel like redoing the tierlist and description but I'm changing my mind. ISAT/Start Again is 2 and Start Again/Comic is 3. Start Again is the Sif that strikes the perfect balance between Comic Sif and NG+ Sif. He's a prologue, he's self-aware to a point, he's becoming his own guide, he's trapped in the futility of it all. He bought into the lie of victory until he didn't but he had no choice but to keep trying. It's literally the same desperation art of him crying out for his Wish.

... But Comic is more of a prototype to Start Again. It's concept art. ISAT and Start again are literally the same canon, the same setting, the same timeline(ish), the same body. Switch these two.

1. Start Again/Loop. HEAR ME OUT. I KNOW WHAT I'VE BEEN SAYING. "Loop is Changed, Loop isn't Siffrin at all, Loop is a completely different character" AND I'M CORRECT!! HOWEVER. ISAT SIFFRIN IS STILL A NEW SIFFRIN. SAME BODY, DIFFERENT CONSCIOUSNESS. ITS LIKE TWO OF THE SAME FICTIVE.

START AGAIN IS LITERALLY LOOP'S PAST. IT'S NOT YOU ANYMORE BUT IT'S YOUR BACKSTORY, BABE. IT'D BE LIKE SHIPPING ISABEAU WITH HIS PRE-CHANGE SELF. LOOP HAS BEEN BURNED AND CONTORTED BEYOND RECOGNITION BUT START AGAIN IS STILL IN THERE, IN THEIR STARDUST, IN THE TASTE OF THEM THAT THE UNIVERSE REMEMBERS. THE MEMORY OF THEM FLICKERS FOR A SPLIT SECOND, WHEN THEY'RE LONGING, WHEN THEY'RE LOSING THEMSELF. THAT'S YOOOOOOOOOUUUUU!!!!

Thank you for coming.

Hi, I made a silly tier list maker where you are given nearly every single possible Frin x Frin variant and you have to rank each pairing from being the most selfcest to the least selfcest through personal reasoning. You can adjust the tiers however you want or use it as is.