#someone who loves so deeply and sacrifices for those people and forgets about himself
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WHAT TYPE OF PROTAGONIST ARE YOU?
healer’s burden .
most of what i can say here is sheeesh....yikes.....ouch.... so you don't have a savior complex, because you understand that's toxic. you're here to heal them, with or without them knowing, because you love so much and care so deeply and you're very stubborn about it. there's no one on this earth that you wouldn't give a helping hand to.
--but it's called a burden for a reason, because this isn't a one-person job. as a protagonist, you're determined and selfless, but as a person, you probably need a break. heal yourself for a little, okay?
tagged by: @lykaiia
tagging: @farginen @zelotae @draculace @kazeoto @resolutepath @realmforged
@nulltune@autogeek @hongdiwang @unmachine @ryusxnka @sheyearns @pontevoix @akashicmuses @redemptioninterlude @toshapeshift @heartsealed @kikeikirei @blanchette @sanctichor @hiisfire @yorhatypeb @whipslayer + you!
#i love when ed doesn't change his absurdly selfless nature but remember's alphonse telling him to live is better than dying for someone#and like he says that dying for someone before leaving for briggs is just 'self gratification' and i was so proud of him#that doesn't change ed will put himself on the line first or be the absurdly selfless boy we know#but it....the more i read this the more it fits.#of course he wants to save as many people as possible.#but he's realistic#he's just 'one insignificant human who couldn't save a little girl'#this really is ed at his core#someone who loves so deeply and sacrifices for those people and forgets about himself#someone who has no reason to be compassionate but remains still and it is /tested/ so much in f.ma#in his life#for me ed's genius and insane alchemy abilities / martial arts are not the core of who he is#it's as the ending says#'an unmatched heart'#a heart that loves and endures.#anyway i love ed a normal amount.#𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 * ── i still remember every time i’ve laughed.#𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀 * ── the anatomy of a heart of steel.
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I usually see fics where Sukuna is 'the experienced one' and reader on the other hand is the shy one who never had those types of experiences before so Sukuna has to ""teach"" her how to do it.
However, as Sukuna canonically has never experienced love and attachment to someone in his life, what if he's the one who needs to learn?
What if it's Sukuna who finds himself trembling when he and reader are going to kiss
What if he finds himself ashamed when he wants to go further with reader but doesn't know how to do it because he has never done it so it's reader who softly shows and explains to him how to do it?
I love to imagine and write Sukuna as someone who is experienced when it comes to sex but completely inexperienced when it comes to love.
Modern!Sukuna is used to casual, little flings that mean nothing. Trueform/King of Curses Sukuna is used to admirers throwing themselves at him, begging for a night with him, or people bringing him their daughters to sacrifice their virginity to him in exchange for his blessings. And Sukuna lets himself indulge in those desires of the flesh. He takes what he wants and selfishly uses those strangers' bodies for his own pleasure. Oftentimes, he doesn't even ask for their names or forgets them again because he simply doesn't care.
Sex is easy for Sukuna. But what absolutely terrifies him is when his heart and his stomach feel so strange anytime you are near him and smile at him and treat him with so much affection and love. It scares Sukuna out of his mind that you mean something to him. The thought of losing you makes him almost sick with worry. He fears it would destroy him.
And he catches himself being reluctant to go further. For the first time in his life, he doesn't want to fuck, but wants to make love. But it is a concept so new and strange to him that it scares him. He doesn't know how to proceed because so much is at stake all of a sudden. He doesn't want this to just be a night of meaningless fun. He doesn't want to risk seeing you walk away from him afterward.
Sukuna never cared that deeply about someone. For a long time, he assumed he wasn't capable of love. Maybe because no one ever treated him with love either. Maybe because no one saw him in that light. Maybe because he always was just the guy for one night. Or maybe because he was a god-like monster that people admired but also feared. Maybe because he scared everyone off with his intimidating looks and personality.
But you somehow saw something more in him. Sukuna thinks you are the first and only one who saw his true self, which was hidden so deeply behind his perfect mask of arrogance and indifference.
And now Sukuna's world has been turned upside down. Suddenly, he doesn't want to take but wants to give instead. He doesn't just care about his own pleasure but wants you to feel good. He wants to see your eyes roll back and hear you moan his name, not because it gives him a feeling of power but because he wants to make you happy. He wants you to stay in his bed and in his arms afterward. He wants to wake up with you snuggled against him. He wants to kiss your hands and your lips and tell you that you own his heart. He wants it to mean something.
Sukuna doesn't know how to return to the person he was before you loved him and taught him how to love, too. And he knows he could never share this with anyone else. So please forgive him if his large, strong hands tremble slightly when he touches your cheek. Even a man like him can be scared of something.
#i am crying because i am way too soft for him :((#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna fluff#jjk x reader#sukuna x you
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ateez as male musical characters (according to me)
A/N: Please remember that this is my opinion, so please be nice. Also I promise that I AM working on Stray Kids as D&D Characters its just taking me a while. Enjoy!
current masterlist | fic recs
Seonghwa: Baron Von Trapp, The Sound of Music
Hear me out - He's poised, organized, clean, and well-put together at all times. However, he secretly does have quite the interesting, fun-loving side. He prefers organization, but is also full of love and creativity that isn't always apparent to everyone. He is strong in his ideals and values, with a soft side for those he loves.
Hongjoong: Orpheus, Hadestown
He is focused and creative, but often times gets too immersed in his work. He gets so immersed to the point where he will forget to care for himself and those around him. However, that doesn't mean he does not love them - in fact, he cares incredibly deeply for those he loves. He will do anything to make sure that they are okay and that they get back on track, even though there may be doubt setting in.
Yunho: Jack Kelly, Newsies
He's a little flirtatious, a little goofy, and also willing to do anything to protect those around him and keep them safe. He really is a leader in his own right even if not many always see it. He really loves pushing people’s buttons if given any space and opportunity, but he also loves pushing for change and making things better for those around him.
Yeosang: Seymour, Little Shop of Horrors
Bless him, he's so quiet and sweet. He really cares deeply for those around him even often at his own expense. He can often be too nice for his own good sometimes but it is so hard to not love him. Yeosang, I feel, makes sure the people around him feel the love at all times, even if his methods are unconventional.
San: Christian, Moulin Rouge
San really loves so deeply with all of his heart. He feels like a hopeless romantic that will love who he does until even after they have gone away, and even more after that. He is a loyal and dedicated lover and friend to those he holds dear. He would also sing instead of talk at all times if given the chance, and would feel heartbreak on an intense level that not many can comprehend.
Mingi: Roger, Rent
He feels so many emotions all the time and uses music as an outlet when words otherwise. He wants to leave a legacy to the world but feels overwhelmed with the pressure to make it perfect. He loves too much and it kind of scares him sometimes. He also tends to doubt his success despite having the people around him giving him support. He is also a certified Rock Star/Emo King™️
Wooyoung: Fiyero, Wicked
We all know he's a little sassy, flirty, and a bit of a shit-stirrer sometimes. But, when he sets his mind to what he cares about, he will do anything and everything possible to achieve his goals. When he loves someone, he loves them with his whole heart and will happily sacrifice himself for them at any cost - a love that is truly hard to ignore and hard to come by.
Jongho: J.D., Heathers
Again, hear me out - He regularly has a lot of things going on in his head, so much that he often can't say. He often takes things into his own hands, which can be a bit intense even to him. He comes off composed and deep, but internally may be a chaotic mess sometimes. He is also spooked by affection from others, and it takes him a while to show his true colors (for Jongho irl, his true colors are beautiful, unlike J.D. who is...not that - that's a difference).
#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez drabbles#ateez headcanons#my musings#seonghwa#hongjoong#yunho#yeosang#san#choi san#mingi#wooyoung#jongho
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TAROT READING//Bummie's view on mingkey relationship
Date: 16/Jan/2024
Marker: Selca, Music
Deck of Cards: Trungles' Star Spinner Tarot (Inclusive, Diverse, LGBTQ Theme)
Notes Upfront:
I don't ask my cards questions that I already have answers;
I don't prey on information I should not know;
I respect their personal lives and;
This is for FUN ONLY.
ʕ•̫͡• ʔ stream Minho's Stay For A Night!! -ㅂ-
This time, the song I recommend listening to while reading is Bummie's Ain't Gonna Dance
"But let me break it down for ya honey
I ain't gon' dance for your loving"
Now...Ready to glimpse into Bummie's view??
Base Card: 10 of Coins
Past: King of Cups R
Now: 10 of Cups
Future: 6 of Swords
Past to Now: The Lovers Reverse
Now to Future: 8 of Coins Reverse
Result Card: 7 of Wands
Please take time looking at the cards before proceeding to read the readings, thanks.
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Readings:
If ming's cards manifest honesty, bummie gives me a very strong sense of rationality. Despite so many cups here (family ties, romantic love, and self-love), bummie is a very goal-orientated individual who doesn't let the floats of emotion impact his career and personal life. He has become a little control freak, hehe. But it is totally understandable. After losing his grandma, jjong and ming (++ refer to the romantic section for elaboration) , bummie is trying to re-gain control through being a workaholic, so to express his heartbroken sadness in work and art. Good news is, he feels very content about his career, financial status, relationships, and where he and ming at. However, one might argue that he is a bit cruel and possibly, selfish - maintaining the status quo because he is one who has more say in their relationship.
Let's look at the past. The reversed king of cups immediately brings that shy bummie back to my mind. He was delicate, sensitive, on-the-edge in the debut times, but full of dreams and determined to make a career out of himself as a multi-talented idol. He didn't hesitant much at the decision of leaving Daegu to Seoul for his dream, even that meant completely new environment, living alone, and not being able to spend more time with his family. Especially his grandmother, the one raised him, and understood him (as I am typing, I still sense the warmness in bummie's heart whenever he thinks of her. He never stops missing her). And that is rationality v.s. emotions from day 1. Kibum has been really hard on himself since the beginning and loneliness, the feeling of out-of-place & isolation had consumed him. But he could handle those...then he met Choi Minho. A bit dramatic? No. Ming made bummie doubting whether the industry (and fans) would welcome someone like him. Worse. He hurt bummie in ways that reminded bummie his wronged times back in Daegu. A less developed city where you see more discrimination and bully against people who want to be themselves instead of being others. That is why bummie got all work up and self-protective when he is around ming. And bummie is as stubborn as ming, he overcomes the side-eyes like breathing fine air.
He didn't know how to overcome ming tho.
It is getting very hard not to analyze it in romantic ways because the lovers dropped, yes, but also because the lovers card is the only major arcana appeared in the result - meaning it is very IMPORTANT. (ming has both the world and the lovers, emphasizing how much he wants to make things right between them, and romantic love could be a good option) However, I will try to give a platonic reading first.
Bummie has been rational dealing with emotions, yet ming is his exception. The frictions, the fights, and the upsets slipped into his heart & left a void that bummie learnt to distance himself from ming and from getting hurt. It doesn't mean bummie doesn't care about ming. He does, deeply. And seeing ming happy makes bummie so happy that he is willing to sacrifice his own desires. Don't forget how sensitive, loving and caring bummie is. He is just too good at choosing rationality instead of his own wants. Taking the left-on-read messages as an example, bummie needed his own space/time to grieve, so he prioritized healing his own heart before ming's enthusiasm to bond. Even if that means hurting ming, means his heart ached at the realization he is hurting ming, and giving away the chance to be closer with ming. Bummie was resolved on the idea of not allowing anything ANYTHING to hurt his precious precious heart.
And looking at the base card, the king of coins, bummie is pretty satisfied with his decision. He enjoys ming being around (in the distance he sets for them), and he wasn't lying when he compares ming to commedes and garçons in the LG Object Collection show. Ming is loyal and bummie knows he can count on that - he loves ming supporting him (both his career and personal life), accompanying him, and comforting him. Ming is not just a good friend, he is family that stays in bummie's softest part. And well, also occasionally way too often gifts bummie. Gifting luxury gifts really isn't ming's love language but serving is, so when ming realized how much bummie loves getting gifts from him he nods yes. This little agreement is very sweet (remember I said ming is always READY to become a good boy for bummie?). In this way, their friendship will grow and profound like evergreen.
Before continuing on, I want to throw a harmless joke here...we have a "clown" in ming's reading, and a "simp" here again. Poor boy. But bummie is just trying to be careful and protective.
!!skip this part if you only see them as platonic friends/co-workers and resume when you see exclamation mark again!!
Oh, come on! Look at the cards here, I bet your reading is more straightforward than mine. A lovers at the reverse signifies difficult communication, one-sided love, and the awareness of impossible love. In this case, I believe all of them are present. Bummie will never say that word if he knows all he gets is rejection. What is even sadder is he never stops loving ming (flowers continue blooming) while he believes so stubbornly that his feeling is unrequited. That he believes one day in the future, ming will fall in love (and get married) like those happy endings in the fairytales. But not with him. When that happens, bummie will stay in the little castle he build himself, enjoy aglass of wine and the cuddles of commedes & garçons, and gives his sincere good wishes. He will continue focus on his works and avoids to even think about the possibility between ming and him because of what he learnt through the years. Bummie is sensitive, and many times a cry baby.
But he doesn't want to cry anymore.
!!resume here!!
Bummie will continue focusing on work>relationship. However, I can see this attitude sets him back sometimes, because the emptiness in his heart withholds him from some deep connections. He dates/interacts with others, of course, but those love are not enough to fill the hole in his heart. In the end, we have the 6 of swords, carrying sorrow and unsatisfied feelings to the future. Bummie is hurt because of their seemingly-ok-but-not-balanced relationship, he is even more hurt because he now realizes that ming is hurt. Payback...almost, but bummie really does not want a sad face on ming. That is why I eagerly pulled up a result card, since 6 of swords can also mean good fruit after growing up from sad lessons. And I am pleased to see the seven of wands here. This card means the difficulties we face to continue to have success. And I believe they will figure things out, in the best way possible to nurture their relationship and career development.
-over-
Feel free to chat or find me on twitter @rosekisspeach
#tarot reading#tarot#shinee#kpop tarot#minho#kibum#choi minho#kim kibum#shinee kibum#key kibum#stay for a night#minkey#mingkey
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Lil writing HC treats I wrote for myself a while back! Danya isn't on there since I hadn't introduced her at that time 😔
You should share your OC's answers to the prompts too 👀 I want to get to know y'all's oc's!
Prompt: You do a nice thing for them that helps them a lot:
Raz: You're his new friend as though he's not as clingy as he used to be, he is still WAY to clingy for a normal person's comfort-
Cupid: He thanks you politely and if it's not too much of a bother for him, might do something in return.
Hunter: Would not care and ignores you (unless you are a supernatural being, in which case he would try to end you).
Grin Snatcher: She laughs at your naivety and sends you on your way, letting you live another day.
Fhrey: Remembers it. Takes note. Never forgets.
Prompt: Their attraction and wants in a partner?
Raz: No preference at all - he will emotionally bond with anyone who lets him, especially if they're are affectionate back. However he has in later times found an appreciation for individuals who doesn't just agree with what he says and offers him genuine feedback as they seem to care more about his well-being.
Cupid: Deeply and aggressively pansexual LOL. Cupid doesn't really do romance generally, but this is less due to a lack of ability and more just rarely finding the people he deeply bond with in that way. His ideal partner is probably someone who offers pushback, dynamic conversation and who can absolutely hold their own ground. He becomes more emotionally devoted to those who doesn't seem affected by his ability to draw others in. The type who seems to first and foremost care about having a good, friendship and mutual trust. I don't think he knows his type though.
Hunter: None. He cares for no one. Negative attraction to people.
Grin Snatcher: Gray-ace sapphic?? Not really at all interested in humans on an emotional level though.
Fhrey: Bisexual - prefers people who sacrifices themselves for others and are very loving. Anything that can fill out that void he feels and cure his prior heartbreak is a possible next victim.
Prompt: Traumatized or nah?
Raz: Very! As a treat!
Cupid: Distress? Don't know her.
Hunter: Trauma indicates a level of self that probably no longer is there. There's only a drive to kill and a horrifyingly keen mind. How can you grieve when no sense of humanity lingers? How can you feel impact when you're a corpse reanimated by the lost remnants of the faded past?
Grin Snatcher: She knows what trauma is and is surprisingly good at handing traumatized people, but also she haven't "tried it".
Fhrey: Hard to tell, honestly. By all means, yes?
Prompt: You annoy them
Raz: Raz does get annoyed, but doesn't entirely know how to handle it or deal with it. Tries to distance himself, then comes back because he feels bad for prioritizing himself first and you probably didn't mean it anyway (:
Cupid: Your effort was good, but it is impossible to get under his skin in a way that feels like it has any noteworthy impact.
Hunter: You got in the way of his work or was his target. Time to be eradicated.
Grin Snatcher: Is that a challenge
Fhrey: If you are his target he will "correct you". He can play the long game. If you are not a victim, he will consider whether your death would prove "more annoying" than having you around. Might as well get rid of you and use it as fuel for trauma-bonding with his victim.
Prompt: They're running into an issue that is above their skills to solve
Raz: Stops trying and focuses on something else
Cupid: Shrugs it off and stops trying despite the fact that he probably is powerful enough to fix it. Nothing is *that* important.
Unless it's about his "job". Then he will probably stubbornly force it through.
Hunter: Retreats and re-plans his strategy if the odds are truly against him.
Grin Snatcher: Pushes Slender to fix it if it's important enough.
Fhrey: Gets smarter so it is within his skillset if he wants it bad enough.
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Essays are done!! Here’s some Shadow propaganda because the propaganda we currently have sucks and I need to fix that. While yes, Shadow being Catholic is a meme, there is more to outside of the simple “fandub said so” and its not quite stated its Catholicism but just how he behaves and his actions. There’s a lot of Sonic content so I will try to keep this brief. Gonna get headcanons out of the way.
Posting all the asks as one text post :) I'm doing a read more since it's long but tldr: vote Shadow, he's latino and does good works :)
Shadow is Chilean and so are Maria and Gerald Robotnik because I fucking say so and they’re Catholic. He definitely had un rosario next to his like. Bed or test tube whatever he slept in. So did Maria btw. Alright let’s move on because I am 100% correct.
Let’s start with some background for Shadow. Shadow was created as a cure for a girl called Maria and he grew to care for her as a sister and loved her deeply. He was artificially created but still holds a soul that is similar to Maria’s. Long story short, Maria is killed protecting Shadow who watches as she’s shot in front of him. He has his memories tampered by Maria’s grandfather, Gerald, who manipulates him into carrying out revenge on the Earth, even if Shadow ends up as collateral.
Shadow struggles with frequent identity crises, even before Maria’s death and always wondered what his purpose was, what he was made to do. Was he a weapon? Was he a cure? He’s the Ultimate Lifeform, but what does that truly mean? ? He’s Shadow, but what more is there to him? He doesn’t know what his purpose is other than what others have prescribed to him, and he guides himself through the will of others (something that he breaks through afterwards but not yet). Shadow at his core is self-sacrificing and constantly punishes himself. This is where you can see some of that good old guilt that everyone has been using as propaganda, but we also see someone who is giving and kind.
He is snarky in the game, especially when interacting with Sonic, but he’s having what is essentially an ongoing mental breakdown but keeps moving because it is his duty to his sister. He doesn’t believe himself important enough to continue on after her and sees it in himself to act out on “Maria’s wishes”. After the revelation that Maria’s final wish for Shadow was for him to make those on Earth happy and to protect them, he immediately sacrifices himself to do so.
Okay, that’s a lot and you’re probably asking “Okay, you mentioned he is a giving person and yeah he has guilt, but that’s not really Catholicism” and yes you would be right! So let’s go into the more important part of being Catholic. The charity, the community, the kindness, etc. Shadow is a very reserved person and has the habit of being a dumb teenager because well. Yeah. Anyways, he definitely has a soft spot for those he cares about and while his whole arc (in my opinion) is about finding the freedom of self-autonomy, it is also Shadow growing as a person and deciding not to save people because others have told him he needs to, but because he wants to. It is born from his soul and its his nature to care for people. It is who he is, and he knows it now. He’s not doing it because he’s a hero or because he is told to do so. Shadow is a very giving person and I think people tend to forget about that especially due to bad writing from the past decade or so. He is also stated to help out at food shelters and volunteers a lot. He is proud and a bit prickly, but he cares so deeply about those he loves. He is stronger with his loved ones and will always do his best to protect them. These are minor, yeah, but you don’t need sweeping and enormous acts to get attention for the good deeds you do. Most of what you apply of Catholicism is done at the personal level, between your friends, family, and community.He also goes to Mass whenever he can and if he can’t he goes to the capilla and also does the sign of the cross whenever he runs by a church. Cutting this off because this is already 740-ish words and I had to send these across multiple asks I am so sorry Catholic mod
#read this because its good#anon understood the assignment <3#cct propaganda#asks#anon#shadow the hedgehog#sonic the hedgehog
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Could you write rfa with an mc who has a lazy eye and is really insecure about it and almost always refuses to take their glasses off because people used to gawk at them and tease them as a child?
Zen knows what it's like to draw special attention from having a unique appearance. While he often likes to flatter himself and play up the role of a narcissist, he's insecure about his features. He grew up in a household that ridiculed him and shamed him for the red eyes and white hair that caught the attention of many, treating him like a monster and putting him down. So he will never pressure MC to take their glasses off, if that makes them comfortable. However, he will also smother MC in praises, like he does to himself. "You're so stunning," he'll whisper when they're alone, gently pulling the glasses down to give them a kiss on the forehead. "You and I are proof that God makes mistakes. He had to make us different because otherwise, our beauty would be too powerful for the world to handle."
Yoosung can't imagine why MC feels insecure. He doesn't really pay attention to those details. First and foremost, MC is someone he cares about, someone he enjoys being with and spending time with. While he's dense, he's no dummy. If he sees MC getting shy or anxious in public, he will hold their hand and encourage them to lean against me. "You can just look at me," he'd murmur. "Besides... I like it when you focus on me, anyway."
Jaehee isn't the type to get caught up in appearances. She had to cut her hair and adorn unnecessary glasses for her job at C&R, after all, and while she may miss her long locks, she knows they aren't the most important thing in life. Connection, fulfillment, and happiness are. MC gives her a reason to wake up in the morning and power through her day. But she is sensitive to the needs of others and can pick up on subtle changes. (You'd have to be perceptive to be able to work as Jumin Han's chief assistant.) So if she's in public with MC, she will always check up on them if they seem to get tense or shrink away from people. "We can go somewhere more secluded, if you want," she'll insist. "Although... If I were as wonderful as you, I would hold my chin up high."
Jumin genuinely does not care about such details. He'd take a mental note, if only as an identifying trait, and that would be the end of the story. He's not accustomed to being around uncertain people; growing up with his father, his father's many love interests, and teenage V, he's been surrounded by cocky, arrogant people who think they are almighty. He almost doesn't know how to handle it, but that works in MC's favor because it means Jumin is constantly checking in on them. "Are you alright? Is this too much? How can I assist?" He also has MC help in organizing their plans, wanting to maximize comfort and efficiency for both of them. "I apologize if this seems excessive, but my priority is your well-being."
707 is the type of person who dismisses all his insecurities and fears with humor. He wears the mask of a jokester so that nobody knows how much pain he holds inside. Therefore, his gut reaction is to lighten the mood. "Wait, we should switch glasses! Or get matching ones!" He wants to find ways to make MC have fun, to laugh so hard that they can forget their worries. But that doesn't mean he isn't sincere. At his core, Saeyoung Choi is a sentimental person, who loves so deeply he would sacrifice anything and everything to ensure his loved ones' happiness. "When you and I are together, nobody will look at us in disdain," he assures MC. "They will look at us in envy, focusing only on our smiles and wishing they could ever find the joy that we find in each other."
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Megumi and Toji
Megumi knows almost nothing about his father, his early memories are of being abandoned. His only family is Tsumiki as far as he’s concerned. It’s clear he doesn’t regard himself as a Zenin, or Toji’s son. He doesn’t even recognize Toji when they meet again briefly. However, though Megumi’s not even aware of it there’s a lot of story parallels between father and son. Toji serves as a cautionary tale of what Megumi could become if he does not grow up and learn to handle his emotions properly. MORE UNDER THE CUT.
1. Inherited Trauma
I don’t know if you’ve noticed this yet, but the Zenin family definitely has issues. They exclude anything which does not fit their arbitrary standards as an outsider. We don’t really know Toji’s backstory. We don’t have to know either, it obviously doesn’t excuse his actions. However, we see the after-effects of him being thrown out and scapegoated by his own family by the time we see him in the hidden inventory arc. Not only that, but from the clan’s treatment of Maki, we can theorize a little ibt of what Toji has been through.
Maki and Toji were both born without cursed energy and labeled as defective and wrong because of it. It’s clear both of them developed bad, hostile, even downright violent personalities in order to cope with a home environment that was constantly hostile to them.
In Maki’s case, it’s not that Maki is a hateful person it’s that she’s conditioned not to accept any kind of love because she was never shown the unconditional love of a family she was owed. When Yuta tries to accept her, Maki rejects him because she doesn’t know what that feeling of acceptance and security is like if it’s unearned. She ties it to strength, she has to be stronger than the Zenin clan, she has to prove she’s better than them and that they were wrong about her in order to earn it.
Maki is so busy trying to reject everything that the Zenin clan stands for, that she can’t really accept other people’s feelings at all positive or negative. She’s too busy thinking about herself, protecting about herself, trying not to hate herself that even the feelings of Mai who loves her, but in a more complicated way is something she can’t accept. She doesn’t want to think about mai’s feelings because she’s too busy with her own, Mai is an afterthought to her.
Maki has a complicated way of dealing with the abuse of the Zenin family, and I assume Toji did too. The only difference is that Toji is an adult, whereas Maki is still an adolescent. Toji was set in his ways, Maki is still in the middle of changing.
Toji is labeled as “the one who is left behind, the one who is free”, it’s very likely especially considering the way he treats Megumi and distances himself from anyone related to him, that Toji’s way of dealing with the Zenin family was to simply reject all of it. He couldn’t accept the hatred of his family, but at the same time he also couldn’t accept any kind of positive emotions too, like love between a father and son. It’s likely Toji can’t even accept the idea of having a family, or the unconditional love of a family because he’s never had it - not that any of that is Megumi’s fault.
Toji grew up completely isolated from his own family until he was eventually thrown out, and he probably had no idea how to raise a family, but he turned around and inflicted those same circumstances on Megumi. Toji grows up alone, Toji makes Megumi grow up alone because he fails to provide for him as a father.
Toji deliberately made a choice to throw out Megumi along with the rest of his family trauma, that’s his self reflection upon the moment of death. He wanted to throw away everything and live for hismelf, but he threw away Megumi too.
However, from Meugmi’s perspective his father gave him the name ‘Megumi’ and left. Apparently Toji was around so little that Megumi doesn’t even recognize his face whent hey meet again as a teenager. He married Tusmiki’s mom, got a divorce, and presumably left Megumi there.
Megumi grew up with no idea of what a family was, except for his step sister, and also completely isolated from others. He grew up with the same sense of isolation and distance from his family that Toji did, lacking totally in the unconditional love a child needs from his parents in order to grow up, because Toji was never even around for Megumi. Megumi just by default assumes that his father either didn’t love him, or just plain forgot about him.
2. Like Father, Like Son.
However, despite the fact Toji wasn’t even around to raise his son, Megumi turned out a lot like Toji. There’s a lot of parallels between father and son, probably because as stated above Megumi grew up in isolated circumstances, completely cut off, never truly receiving the parental love or guidance that he needed to help him mature into a emotionally healthy adolescent able to process his feelings and handle them properly.
Both Megumi and Toji respond to their emotional trauma in the same way, by suppressing themselves and all their feelings, and rejecting the feelings of everyone around him. Megumi isn’t even able to hear the news that his dad died, because he insists that already in first grade, he doesn’t care about his dad or even want him around.
This is you know, a lie of course. Megumi’s a first grader. All children want a parent. It’s just, Megumi’s way of dealing with his feelings is to just pretend that they’re not there, to pretend he doesn’t care. A first grader is not really mature enough to think of his family situation in these terms, or cope with these feelings. Megumi is simply pretending to be mature as a way of pretending to deal with his hurt feelings.
We as the audience know that Megumi is a deeply caring, and deeply feeling person. However, Megumi himself seesm to be in denial of this fact.
Megumi’s response to all of thes icky gross feelings he has for people, soft feelings that makes him feel vulnerable because while Megumi cares deeply, circumstances have taught him that people do not care about him, or at least Toji didn’t care enough in Megumi’s eyes to stick around. Megumi’s response is the same as Toji’s, he shuts everyone out, he insists he doesn’t care about anyone.
He can’t accept anyone’s feelings because he’s too busy rejecting everyone. He can’t even accept the positive feelings of familial love his sister has for him, he almost begrudges her for it. Tsumiki chose to see him as family, different from Toji who he feels didn’t choose him and Megumi just couldn’t realize that until it was too late. He’s so used to being abandoned and unchosen that he doesn’t know what familial love even looks like in Tsumiki.
This is also something that Toji does to Megumi. It’s said in a bonus in volume 8 or volume 9 that after the death of Megumi’s mother, Toji insisted that he “stopped caring about everything.” We see this repeat when he’s about to sell Megumi to the Zenin clan.
Toji insists he doesn’t care, while Megumi tries to creep back into his thoughts, and he keeps trying to help him in indirect ways. Toji wishing for a better future for his son than he had, while at the same time, selling him off for the money he plans to gamble away at the race track. Toji forgetting his son’s name, and then remembering it on the brink of death and asking his enemy to do something about it. These are all compeltely contradictory behaviors because Toji has no healthy, adult way of processing his emotions.
He’s just used to pretending he doesn’t care about things, that even when he obviously does care it’s what he keeps falling back on. It’s the same as Megumi’s complex with saving people, he insists he hates people, that he doesn’t want to save them, and then he goes far out of his way to save people like Yuji.
3. Growing Out of Your Father’s Shadow
They process emotions the same way, both insisting that they don’t care about anything around them, the only real difference is their priorities. Toji is a self centered person who prioritizes himself above all others. Megumi’s a self sacrificing person, he’s continually belittling himself for the sake of other people. Megumi belittles himself to the point where he insits he could never be strong enough to challenge Gojo. Being the strongest individual is just never his priority.
Toji however is someone who climbed to the top of the Jujutsu World to try to prove he could become a better fighter than them without any cursed energy. Megumi is someone who ran away from the challenge of becoming stronger than Gojo, but Toji wanted to prove himself stronger than Gojo so badly he stayed and fought a fight he knew he couldn’t win.
However, even though their priorities are total opposites, Toji prioritizing himself, and Megumi prioritizing other people above himself they both end up in the same place. They’re both incredibly self destructive people. Toji stayed and fought with Gojo, knowing that he would die. When Megumi is pushed to his limit in Shibuya, rather than try to run away he also sacrifices himself in order to summon Mahoraga in a suicidal move against his opponent. They are even paralleled in the way they’re drawn.
I think the takeaway from all these connections set up between Toji and Megumi is that even though Megumi doesn’t know his father well he’s a lot like him. They both handle their emotions in the same way, insisting that they don’t care when they in fact care deeply. They both repress all of their emotions until they go crazy from it.
Toji literally springs from Megumi’s shadow. The shadow is the symbol of repressed emotions. Emotions that people are conscious of, the ones they acknowledge are usually represented by light, deeper emotions, the ones they repress and refuse to acknowledge are then referred to as the shadow. The brighter the light, the darker the shadow. The more Megumi pretends not to care about his father or his family situation, the deeper the shadow underneath his feet grows.
Being underneath your father’s shadow is even a common phrase used to describe people who are unable to escape from their parents, and become their own person. There is a connection between Megumi and his father between Megumi and the Zenin, even if Megumi likes to pretend it’s not there, like when he denies any similarity between himself and Kamo Noritoshi.
A lot of Megumi’s life is dictated by his family circumstances too, he’s just in denial about it. Kamo’s aware to sympathize with people because he’s far more aware fo himself and his family circumstances, Megumi denies sympathizing with other people, because he doesn’t have any sympathy for himself either.
Zombie Megumi is colored in pure shadow. He’s even referred to as a manifestation of the repressed feelings of the Zenin clan. Those who are restrained by their connection to the Zenin clan, all look in awe at the one who broke free from the Zenin, and free from everything.
Megumi exhibits the act same behavir as Toji. He suppresses himself, suppresses himself, and suprresses himself and then he just goes crazy. Megumi claims he’s not the strongest, he doesn’t care about being strong, but then he pulls moves like summoning the Mahoraga and Domain Expansion. Megumi just holds himself in until he violently lashes out on everything around him too, he’s hurt feelings waiting to explode.
Which is why Megumi learning more about his father and the connection between them could be a good thing, not because Megumi necessarily owes Toji anything, but that he could learn from Toji’s mistakes. When Megumi sees his own unhealthy behavior exhibited in another, he can learn to accept the things that Toji could not accept. He could learn to accept connections like family, and friednship, before they become chains that hold him down too hard, until he breaks everything and himself trying to be free. Megumi dosen’t have to become the strongest like Gojo, he doesn’t have to surpass or fight against the Zenin clan. He doesn’t have to save everyone in the whole world like Yuji. The best thing for Megumi’s character development would be for him to learn to accept his own feelings and the feelings of others without going crazy. That’s a strength that neither Toji, nor Gojo could never find in themselves.
#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji#zenin toji#toji zenin#zenin family#zenin maki#jjk meta#jujutsu kaisen meta#jujutsu kaisen theory
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BnHA Chapter 320: Deku vs. Class 1-A
Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Kacchan was all “fuck Deku and fuck his stupid goodbye letters, I need to speak to somebody in charge.” Endeavor was all “hello, I am Somebody In Charge.” Kacchan was all “listen up asshole, you need to let us go out and collect our wayward nerd because you stupidly left him alone with All Might and that’s a fast track to disaster right there.” Endeavor was all, “[self-incriminating silence].” Rat Principal was all, “okay sure, have fun kids.” Back in the present, class 1-A was all “hi Deku” and Deku was all “I’M FINE!!!!!” and Kacchan was all “THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT YOU’D SAY YOU DUMB FUCKING NERD” and so the kids all got ready to fight, because OF COURSE they’re gonna fight. Sorry guys, but yeah it’s happening.
Today on BnHA: Kacchan is all “what’s up Deku you look like a possessed Rorschach test, so anyway how are the new quirks coming along.” Deku is all “they’re coming along like THIS” and uses Smokescreen to try and get away. Kacchan is all “PHASE ONE COMMENCE”, and Kouda, Sero, Jirou, and Ojiro leap into the fray to shower Deku with heaps of love and violence, because this is a shounen manga and kicking someone’s ass while simultaneously proclaiming your undying admiration for them is just how it’s done in these parts. The KoudaSeroOJirou squad then passes the baton to Satou, Momo, Tokoyami, Kaminari, and Shouji, who are all “fuck this mask” and do a bunch of stuff to tear Deku’s mask off because they’re the real heroes. Shouto is all “LOOK AT THE LITTLE CRYBABY, THAT’S RIGHT, GO AHEAD AND FUCKING CRY and by the way let us share your burden please,” and once again I swear this is all very deeply moving and touching within the actual context. The chapter ends with Tsuyu being all “look at me. I’m the cliffhanger now,” and damn.
lol what
I don’t think anyone was expecting that. I mean, not that I’ve got anything against Tsuyu or anything. anyways it’s a very nice cover and I love the colors and I hope this means Tsuyu’s gonna do something badass
also, “Deku vs Class A” -- pretty much the expected title, but it’s still got me hyped nonetheless fuck yeah let’s go
IIDA ANGST
Iida Tenya really said “fuck the uniform code, we’re leaving the helmet at home today.” sorry kids, prim and proper C-3PO Comic Relief Iida has left the building. can I interest you in some Serious Iida
meanwhile Kacchan is all “sup Deku, I heard you got a few more quirks, and might I just add that you look like the Snyder Cut of Detective Pikachu”
“you look like a tarred and feathered squid” okay easy there Kacchan. I mean it’s all true of course, but still
“thank you all for coming” OH EXCUSE ME SON, WERE YOU PLANNING ON GOING SOMEWHERE. LET’S JUST SEE HOW THAT PLAYS OUT
yep and there’s Smokescreen, right on cue
okay Horikoshi, I leave it in your hands. hopefully you can come up with some more interesting combos than my dumbass predictions lol
LOL THIS ISN’T A COMBO AT ALL
“explosions solve everything” -- Horikoshi Kouhei, 2021. something something shockwave, something something handwave ta-da no more smoke. lol okay then
oh, ouch
he would know, wouldn’t he. nice application of one of your many hard-earned life lessons, Kacchan
by the way you guys, just as an experiment, I’m going to try to anticipate some of the discourse this week in the hopes of preemptively addressing it and thus saving myself some time later on lol. so here’s our first test run!
ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “oh my god what a fucking hypocrite can you believe this fucking guy”
PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: it’s precisely because Kacchan has been in this exact situation himself that he’s able to recognize his past self in Deku now and call him out on it. just because it took him sixteen years to get it through his head that he can’t accomplish every single thing completely by himself doesn’t mean Deku has to go down that same path. so yeah, maybe it is a bit hypocritical, but if you insist that the only people qualified to call out stupid shit are people who have never done a single stupid thing in their own lives, then what you’re basically saying is that absolutely no one on earth is qualified lol. so yeah, I’d have to disagree
and one last unrelated note, I’m willing to bet the whole “you didn’t even say a word before you ran off” thing is possibly the first thing Kacchan’s said in this whole encounter that actually does stem from genuine hurt rather than his tough-love-harsh-truths strategy. I’M TAKING NOTES HERE HORIKOSHI. at this rate it’ll take twice as many chapters as DvK2 for them to hash out all the stuff between them, geez
anyway so I gotta say, so far Deku vs. Class A is looking an awful lot like a DvK3 wearing a hat, trenchcoat, and sunglasses lol
OH SHIT I TAKE IT BACK??
FUCK YEAH, YOU GO KOUDA. and I guess he ditched his mask as well! excellent
so far the strategy here seems to be “Kacchan says all the mean tough love shit while the rest of 1-A balances it out with warmth and kindness”, which actually works pretty well imo. Deku is one of those people that doesn’t usually need a Kacchan Translator anyway, but just in case, this is very efficient
mm but of course Deku is slingshotting himself away with Blackwhip. all right then, who’s up next!
FUCK YEAH
okay but seriously you guys, what is going on with Sero’s face in these last couple of chapters though, it’s really starting to unnerve me. is he trying to emulate Kacchan’s whole asymmetrical facial expressions thing?
in fact let me just quickly hit pause here because,
ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “SERO IS TOGA??!”
PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: no
oh snap looks like Jirou’s getting in on the action too!
poor Jirou probably spent days racking her brain trying to think of something she could bond with Deku over. is Horikoshi doing these in reverse order of the kids who have had the most interaction with him? that would explain why poor Kouda didn’t get a flashback lol
omg. well that answers that
so by my count, Satou and Hagakure are the only ones remaining in this first tier of kids who Still Appreciate Midoriya even though they’ve barely ever spoken two words to him in their lives lol. so they’ll probably be next, and then we’ll get to the next tier of kids who are pretty good friends with him but not quite besties. and then we’ll move on to the IidaRokiRaka trio, and then lastly, to the boy who is in a tier all his own
BUT FIRST, A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR
and by “sponsor” I mean the Dekuangst. just in case that wasn’t clear. indeed, many thanks to the Dekuangst for making this all possible
(ETA: okay so this whole “take me away” line seemed pretty weird to me, and sure enough it’s yet another one of those cases where only the verb is specified, and the object is left to the reader’s interpretation. so even though the translation says “take me away”, I’m pretty sure that what Deku’s actually saying is “take you away” -- as in, his loved ones will be taken away by AFO.
and that is literally the way he phrases it, though -- the verb used is “奪う” (ubau), meaning “to snatch away; to dispossess; to steal.” which, god, that hurts my whole goddamn heart though, because for him to say it like that?? not “AFO will kill you”, but “AFO will take you away from me.” he can’t have nice things anymore because of AFO. he can’t be around the people he loves because AFO will hurt them. he can’t have happiness because AFO will take it away from him. anyway so where the fuck is AFO right now, motherfucker I just want to talk.)
by the way can Ojiro just extend his tail to whatever fucking length he wants or what because it’s like twelve feet long in this panel lol
WOOO FUCK YEAH TOKOYAMI
YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!! BUT WHERE’S YOUR FLASHBACK? YOU’VE HAD A BUNCH OF INTERACTIONS WITH HIM, THAT’S NOT FAIR
okay so now Satou’s stepping in which is back to my anticipated order, so maybe Toko will finish his little moment afterward
dskfjfkk
“REMEMBER THAT TIME DEKU BORROWED SATOU’S FOOD COLORING” Horikoshi says, sweating. “AND REMEMBER THAT TIME HE, UM, SMILED IN HAGAKURE’S GENERAL DIRECTION”
actually I am curious about what Hagakure’s part will be because, you know, the whole traitor thing lol
(ETA: funny how we just skipped right over it huh. can we get a traitor reveal countdown started here? definitely getting close to that time.)
whoa lol wtf
MOMO??? THIS HAS MOMO WRITTEN ALL OVER IT DAMMIT
-- SWEET MOTHER OF FUCK
“SORRY MIDORIYA-SAN, I LEFT MY FUCKING CHILL AT HOME IN THE LOCKER NEXT TO IIDA’S HELMET” holy shit lmao
and here I thought she’d get a flashback to her time on the Baku Rescue Squad or something. but nope, no flashbacks from Momo, only terrifying sci-fi torture devices
poor Dark Shadow is such a trooper omg
“why am I the only one who has to make prolonged contact with his smelly disgusting self” taking one for the team there DS
FUCK YEAH KAMINARI NO JUTSU
THE PRICKLY BASTARD WHISPERER STRIKES AGAIN!! don’t suppose you brought any clean clothes you could sneakily force him into huh Kami
okay here we go, so now Shouji and Tokoyami are joining forces
um excuse me this is fucking awesome
wonder how he’ll break free? don’t think he’ll reveal Fa Jin until the end of the chapter, so maybe Air Force or something? idk
TOKO GETS AN EXTENDED MOMENT BECAUSE HE IS A TIER TWO PATREON REWARD LEVEL FRIEND YAY
WHY IS MOMO MAKING THIS FACE LOL YOUR THING WAS WAY WORSE
and Shouji just casually hitting him with what is easily the best comment from anyone yet. too bad Deku’s just gonna ignore it. you deserve better Shouji
KAMINARI OMFG
it only just occurred to me that Kami is currently trapped inside Dark Shadow right along with him lmao omg. realest one in the entirety of BnHA, right here. we will never forget your sacrifice
aaaaaaand Deku’s yeeting himself
do you really hate the thought of taking a bath that much my dude
oh shit the mask!!
-- oh shit the feels
o(TヘTo)
fuck. and I mean, we knew he was crying, that was a done deal. but still, to see him in this much pain is just...
and the acknowledgement that he knows they’re worried about him, but that it doesn’t change his mind one bit. this, right here, is why they have to be a bit harsh with him, you guys. because they’re up against the full, unbridled stubbornness of Midoriya fucking Izuku, and if they don’t match that stubbornness with an equal stubbornness of their own, they basically don’t stand a chance
(ETA: quick note that there is apparently another mistranslation here -- rather than saying that his friends are oblivious to the danger, what Deku is actually saying is that none of his friends have activated his Danger Sense once throughout this entire fight. which I had been wondering about, and it turns out Horikoshi actually confirmed it. so basically none of the kids bears any ill intent toward him, and there’s literal proof right there.
incidentally, as @class1akids pointed out, this also casts an interesting light on this chapter in terms of who hasn’t fought Deku yet. not to play the Hagakure Traitor Music for the billionth time you guys, but I’M JUST SAYING lol.)
anyway, but the good news is that they all seem to understand that. and the even better news is that we have reached the tier 3 friends!!
“OR ELSE” lol, great to see Shouto wielding his friendship just as aggressively as Deku once did towards him. I do love a good role reversal
p.s., ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “why is Shouto being so cruel to Deku can’t he see how hard this is on him”
PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: this is a callback to the classic “even heroes cry when they have to” Shouto line from chapter 137. Shouto is clearly following Kacchan’s lead here and going for the more ruthless approach, knowing that the gentle approach isn’t getting through to him (if anything it’s only making him more stubborn as we saw on the previous page). basically it’s his way of pointing out that even heroes are still only human, and so is Deku last time he checked
ah okay, and there Tsuyu is at last
okay real talk, I get why Tsuyu is included in the tier 3 friends, because she was one of the first people to team up with Deku going all the way back to USJ. but that said, this probably would have had more impact if their most recent interaction hadn’t been like 150 chapters ago
but anyway though it’s still a good speech. maybe not quite a cliffhanger-level speech, but a good speech nonetheless. in a way though, I’m glad to see that Horikoshi seemingly didn’t give a fuck whether he ended this on an actual cliffhanger or not for once
and that “headed toward the climax” part has me excited too, ngl. because if we really are getting to the so-called climax this soon, that makes me even more certain that there is indeed a DvK3 in the forecast. so I presume that next week (or I guess two weeks from now) will be the tier 3s along with the remaining tier 2s like Kirishima and Aoyama
and then after that, well... [orange and green banners being hoisted] [sound of screeching airhorns and vuvuzelas in the distance] [sound of All Might approaching in his car which I didn’t notice until I looked back at this page a second time whoops] THE PROPHECY WILL NOT BE DENIED
#bnha 320#midoriya izuku#bakugou katsuki#asui tsuyu#tokoyami fumikage#kaminari denki#todoroki shouto#class 1-a#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha
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Pray to Me
Pairing: Shinsou x Fem Reader
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Gods!AU, Rough Sex, Too Many Norse Mythology References
Word Count: 8.5k
The frigid waters were laden with blood and ice, the salty waves licking the bows of long boats as they accosted the shores. The dark waters of the bay looked black against the fresh snow, churning oars sending sprays onto the docks as warriors returned home.
You stood among the crowds, whips of snow billowing past your reddened cheeks, your arms crossed in protection across your chest. Despite losing the men within your family to raids and battles long ago, you always came to welcome back those who were fortunate enough to receive homecoming. Upon the sails of the ships was the symbol of your earl, dancing proudly against the winds of winter as the men and women beneath them hailed their successes from summer and autumn.
High upon the prow of the leading ship was a carved figurehead, meticulously crafted in the image of Skoll, the wolf who hunts the moon. The wolf’s jaws were wide and within his wooden tongue was an etching of a crescent moon; the wolf with his prey in his maw was a symbol of Ragnarok, a symbol of the return of chaos. And upon the prow was a man you had never seen before.
The man was all shades of violet and violence. His hair was the color of crushed mulberries, the long strands pushed back and wet from the sea, so deeply purple that it looked as if you were to touch him, your palms would stain with color. Blood, russet and old, crimson and fresh, was splattered across his cheeks. A warrior’s tattoos stained the expanse of his chest and arms; the thick, blue lines were heavy and sprawling from the wood ash buried within in pale skin. And his eyes, they were purple and bright, painted with black kohl. The dark smears ran down his impressive cheek bones and curled up from his eyes, appearing catlike. The curious orbs resembled the farthest stars that lined night sky.
You expected murmurs from around the docks, but it was as if the man belonged there, towering over all the rest, hands pulling at the mouth of the wolf within the wood. He was silent power within the snow, lean and muscular, body on display as if the storm did not touch him. You felt drawn to him, like he was looking for you high upon the prow. Your feet moved before you could think. You wanted to be closer, to have those violaceous eyes upon you.
You moved in front of the crowd, standing by the edge of the water, sand and ice crunching underfoot, but when your eyes darted to find him, he was gone. There was no trace of slick purple hair within the throngs of people. Disappointment settled into your spirit and wearily you traveled home to rest.
For weeks you dreamt of him, saw shadows of him within the corners of your vision; illusions of a dark cat in your windows, a tawny owl upon barren branches.
Some nights you dreamed you were sinking into a vast violet sea, trying to swim upwards to break against the surface, to breathe air into your lungs and call to Odin to rescue you. But you were stuck, some unknown force pulling at your ankles and keeping you in a watery, nebulous purgatory just below the surface. You would always give up, allow yourself to float within the celestial unknown of the eerie, mauve waters, allow yourself to feel weightless and accept that you were no longer in control. The undercurrents would push you, bring you into strong, waiting arms, and you would awaken, breathing in and feeling like for a brief moment you were whole.
No one you asked had seen the purple haired man, save those who returned from raiding in the East. One warrior told you that the man you saw upon the prow of the ship was a land spirit, brought with them from the Balkans after blessing them with the gift of fire and aiding their struggles to survive as the weather turned bleak. Another relayed that the man was a spirit of the Wild Hunt, a straggler from the ghostly procession that attached himself to the fleet and brought the callousness of winter with him. No matter what they believed him to be, they had all seen him, the man with violet hair and violent eyes.
You knew that the sisters were calling to you from The Well of Fate, whispering the future that they had laid before you. Something about the purple haired man, whether he be man, vestige, or spirit, made you believe that you were fated to meet him again.
Nearly a full moon cycle passed before your curiosity could take no more. In the dead of night, you wrapped yourself in your cloak, ignoring the shadows and wisps of eyes in the dark as you made your way through the sleeping village.
You found yourself before the Seer, ancient and decrypt, asking for him to translate the gods’ wishes and intentions for your life.
“What questions do you have of me?” His voice was as rickety as the bones that adorned his hut, rattling from stray winds. He had lived hundreds of years and now dwelled between life and death, an interpreter between gods and man.
“Wise one, I desire to know the gods’ plans for me. I have dreams.”
“What dreams have come to you?”
“I dream I am drowning within the bay, and that a man saves me, but only after I stop fighting the currents.”
There was a pregnant pause between you. The Seer considered your words. Your thumbs fiddled within your lap, and you felt heavy, like you were under the gaze of more than just the ancient one.
“A precarious quest awaits you, one that will take you between worlds, to the land of the gods.”
“But I do not understand. I do not adventure, nor travel. I am only a simple healer. What kind of quest could await me?”
Below hooded eyes you watched a black tongue escape his mouth, worrying across dry lips as he pondered your words. Only a few times in your life had you visited him, well aware that fate was already the master of all, even the gods, as even they were subject to fate just like any and all other beings.
“You shall go past where the fence separates us from the place of self-willed beasts, finding refuge in that which is chaotic, anarchic, and wild.”
“But, Seer, I do not—.”
“Yes, child, I know you do not understand. But such is the way of prophecy, only to be understood when it has happened, and it is too late to change it.”
You stood to leave, seeds of fear sprouting within your spirit.
“But do not forget there is order within the chaos.” His voice crackled like fire, calling out to you as you left his home, forging a path through the snow to your own.
The foresights of the Seer lingered within your disposition, the cryptic words reverberating through your mind and taking hold in your daily life. You started to fight the currents in your dreams, only to wake gasping for breath after monstrous beings pulled you into the abyss. The warm arms of your illusory savior felt farther away than ever before. The murky glooms in the crevices felt stronger, grimmer, the oppressive eyes of darkness following you from every corner, every winter shade.
Your hands began to slip as you tended to the wounded, your thoughts becoming absent as you crafted medicine or supper, often burning yourself over fires or forgetting ingredients. You felt lost, abandoned by the gods, but still yet you prayed.
Winter continued to rage on, with the moon living within the sky at all times of day and bathing the world in a constant dusk during the desolate midwinter. Every night before you made for bed, you trekked behind the village to the isolated temple to the gods. No one was ever there. The summer raids were over, the men safely returned with riches aplenty, which, along with the great harvest, had left many believing that the gods were in good spirits and were bestowing ample blessings upon their dedicated supplicants.
But you, you felt no love from Asgard, felt no promise of Valhalla waiting for you.
The temple was hardly a sanctuary at all, just a hut overrun by dormant vines and overgrown with dying grass, with an altar for blood sacrifices tucked away against the back wall. Despite being a devoted village, most saved their prayers for their pilgrimage to the great temple in Uppsala, but you had become desperate. You needed to feel closer to the gods, to find the place beyond the fence that was foretold to you.
You knelt upon a broken stone, obedient hands upon your knees as you began to pray.
“Odin, all-father and far-wanderer, may you grant me wisdom, and courage,
Thor, grant me your strength, wield your hammer to break the barriers that hold my mind,
Baldr, the beautiful, beloved by all, please bestow upon me joy and light,
And Freya, mother of beauty, the völva, help me to discern my fate—.”
Your prayer faltered as you heard steps crunch upon the grass. But the sound wasn’t of footsteps coming towards you, more like someone shuffling, shifting their weight within the temple.
You were not alone.
All your instincts began to fight one another. Your mind wanted to flee, to spring your legs and send you running to safety, but your heart felt like you needed to stay, to speak into the twilight for answers. The conflict led to you staying still and being silent. Your hands fisted upon your thighs, your eyes closing tightly. Whatever was there would go away, whoever was there would leave. Maybe there was nothing there at all, only the spirits playing tricks on you again.
“And why haven’t you called out for me, little one?”
The voice sounded like vibrations from within the deepest ocean; deep, unfathomable, and a little wicked.
He was there, before you, arms across his tattooed chest that was on display under emerald linen and violet head cocked to the side. He was grinning, like a cat would upon discovering new prey. His purple hair was arched into wild plumes, his skin rubbed clean but the kohl still upon his cheeks and around his eyes. He was handsome in the firelight, fiendishly so.
“Who are you?” Your voice was a whisper, so light and airy it floated away into the darkness.
“Who am I?” He laughed, leaning against the sacrificial altar, a blatant disrespect for the gods.
“Who am I…” he repeated it, drawing circles in the dirt with his toe. He shifted his weight back and forth for a moment, eyes closing as he picked up an imaginary rhythm.
“A creaking bow, a burning flame, tide on the ebb, new ice, a coiled snake…”
Your breath caught in your throat, fingers twitching in your lap. You recognized the pattern and knew what words came next. It was an old saying your mother used to whisper under her breath, a chant for the old women and those who held superstitions. It was a warning, a rhythmic song to help children remember to stay safe, to avoid perils.
Your mouth opened before you could stop it, finishing the proverb for him.
“The sons of a king, an ailing calf, a witch’s flattery. No man should be such a fool as to trust these things. For they are the trickster in disguise.”
“Aha, so you do know me, girl. Yet after all this time, I’ve never heard you pray to me. Why is that?”
He crouched down to your level, his startling, devilish eyes gleaming like amethyst. He was too close and you felt yourself leaning away, back arching and neck aching as you tried to pull yourself from his gaze.
“No one prays to you, trickster god.”
He merely shrugged, a strong hand reaching for you. Rough fingers found your chin, pulling you closer as his eyes danced across the planes of your face. You began to shake, overwhelmed by being in the presence of perhaps the most dangerous god.
“And how do you know I am he?” he laughed, thumb running over your lips, “I could be Heimdall, sent by Odin to watch over such a devout and…fascinating little creature.”
“Because you’re so…” you paused as you looked for the words. You felt like you were drowning within his gaze, falling to the ground even though you hadn’t moved since he appeared.
He stood quickly, turning on his heel and smirking.
“Because I’m so what? Handsome? Charming? Surprisingly muscular for a god who uses wits and magic to seduce his subjects?”
He pouted at your silence, wanting more of a reaction.
“What if I told you I could be beautiful instead? Would that hex you?”
This time he didn’t give you an opportunity to respond. Within a haze of smoke, he transformed.
A languid, sensuous body appeared between the mists. Voluptuous breasts met your eyes, smooth thighs peeking from beneath an exquisite olive dress. Long, violet tresses fell down the woman’s back, curling so perfectly she looked to be unreal. But his eyes stared at you from the feminine face, dark lavender and sinister upon high cheekbones.
“Hmm,” she sighed, holding her hand out for you to take.
You took the soft hand outstretched to you, surprised at the strength behind the grip as she pulled you to your feet. The goddess was tall and slender, and she gazed at you while she pondered whatever was on her mind.
“Still not as beautiful as you…” her voice was melodic as she looked over her own body, swaying within the graceful skin for a moment before catching your gaze and stopping. You stood still, heart pounding in your chest as you gazed at the hermaphrodite before you. Her lashes fluttered as a familiar smirk spread across her features.
It was as if she was floating when she neared you again, purple hair uncontrollable and suspended within the air. Her tender hands came to your cheeks, pursing your mouth with her thumbs.
“No…nothing is as beautiful as you, little servant.” Her supple lips overwhelmed your own. You gasped, hands flying to her chest to stop her, only to have your fingers sink into the luscious valley of her breasts. A chuckle fans across your face, more masculine than feminine, and the mixture of the voice had shivers of excitement and pleasure racing down to your toes. You were too shocked, too scared to kiss back, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her lips moved against yours gently, pleadingly, only becoming more active when the delicate hands upon your cheeks converted to thick fingers and rough calluses.
Before your eyes the god shifted again, returning to the fetching masculine figure that he was before. You could smell him now, taste him, like smoke from smoldering coals and the residue of rain from within a summer’s forest. Your hands were still upon his chest, your fingers brushing against the skin that was on display between the open buttons of his tunic. His kiss was intoxicating, a hum of magic upon his lips as he drank you in.
“You’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He chuckled, licking your lips wantonly before pulling away.
“Why have you been haunting me?” You demanded between heavy breaths, emboldened by his kiss.
“Haunting you? No, no. I’ve been watching you. Observing you. You looked so…sinless among the throngs when I sailed in all those weeks ago. I must say I am very pleased by the things I have seen.”
“And what have you seen?” Your voice snapped; tongue sharp.
His hands caressed your upper arms, eyes glancing across your body as if he was admiring a pattern within runes that he had seen a thousand times before.
“You serve…everyone. The gods, the people in this village, you tend to the weak spirited and the broken bodied, you serve everyone but yourself.”
The god grew quiet, leaning forward to inhale the sweet scent of your hair. His lips pressed to your temple, thumbs stroking your arms through the thin fabric of your clothing. His breath fanned into your hair and you suddenly felt your heart begin to beat more slowly. It was as if his presence alone, his touch, could calm the raging turmoil within your mind.
“Now, I want you to serve me.”
“Yes,” you said too quickly, a knee buckling as you prepared to kneel, “of course, anything for a go—.”
“Shinsou.” His hands held you in place, kept you from bowing to him. He watched as your head tilted and your brow furrowed, obviously wanting to please him. “Shinsou is the name my friends call me, and as shall you.”
“Shinsou.” You tentatively said the name back to him. Your people knew him as Loki, but to know a more intimate name made tingles of warmth spread across your chest, like he was entrusting knowledge unknown by mortals into you.
He became violet and beautiful as you said his name, a warm smile decorating his striking face. The safe feeling of your dreams washed over you. These arms, his arms, his hands and his body, were the safety you had been dreaming of that saved you from the tumultuous seas. You stared at him for a moment, hands feeling a heartbeat within his chest. He looked so human, felt so real, yet still an otherworldly air swirled so poignantly around him. Everything inside of you wanted to fall into him, to feel enveloped by his spirit.
“I’m going to take you away,” he whispered it, hand trailing from your arm to your face, tucking hair behind your ear in a most affectionate way, “you’ll never have to come back here, unless you want to.”
“Take me away? To Asgard?” Your breath hitched as you said the name of the haven of the gods.
He laughed, the sound like honey dripping across your soul.
“No, little one. I am of the giants; don’t you remember the ancient stories? To Jotunheim we will go.”
Your brow lightened, remembering the words of the Seer. Jotunheim, your brain wracked over the word, letting it roll within your thoughts until it revealed what you were looking for. Útgarðr, you realized, the name of that same place given by your ancestors. It meant the world outside your own, the world of chaotic wilds that surrounded Midgard. The place beyond the fence.
This Loki—this Shinsou—was indeed fated to you after all. You felt the connection from the moment you saw him sailing in the winter winds, felt it even more profoundly as he held you before him in the temple. For some reason, the trickster god had chosen you, or perhaps he was merely following fate, testing you for all this time to see if you were truly the human girl destined for him. He was a sign of change, his hands wrapped around the prow of the ship that was carved into a symbol of Ragnarok, the end of the cycle of this world. He was proving to be a carrier of the end times, at least the ending of your own mundane life. And just like Ragnarok, you had a feeling that with this end would come a new beginning, that Shinsou was taking you away but leading you to a new life, a new destiny, far beyond what you could ever imagine.
“Take my hand,” it was a polite command, his words weighty but light enough to promise that you could decline.
You felt something between his fingers, a quietness, a wickedness you could not quite name. It was like a dull thrum of lightening humming between your skin and his. Billows of smoke weaved between your bodies. Just as quickly as he transformed into a woman, Shinsou had you whisked away, transported so rapidly you felt dizzy. You clung to him, your godly refuge, light flashing as your feet found new purchase upon what felt like a floor.
For a moment, you thought the room was a mirage. It was unlike anything had ever seen before, so lavishly decorated with lush furs, viridian curtains, polished stone and warm fires. Books lined every wall and the air smelled of perfumes and incense, even a fountain sprung from stones in the far corner. It was truly unearthly, but his arms around you felt like home.
His head rested upon your shoulder from behind, his palms flattening on your chest to feel your heartbeat as you took in the sights around you.
“This is…this is your home?” One of your hands gripped a muscular forearm.
“Mhm, more like a home away from home, a safe haven.”
He uncurled himself from you, a stout hand pushing at your lower back to urge you to explore. You padded around the room, fingers caressing the spines of books along the walls, finding many in languages unknown to you. Between many of the tomes were vases and trinkets, some glowing with mystic hues, humming with magic well beyond your comprehension.
“What will you have me do here?” Your breath caught as you turned to find him. He seemed so large and ominous within the space, like was the commander of the room and the only ornament to be admired within the vast collection around you.
“You haven’t figured it out? My, and I thought you were keener than most mortals.”
He rolled his shoulders, sighing with content as he removed his tunic, tossing it into the air to only have it dissipate before your eyes in a bright flash of magic. His tattoos seemed darker in the dim light, like the blackest earth pressed into his skin. A serpent trailed down one of his impressive biceps, his other arm decorated in a swirl of runes and etchings of a wolf and a horse, his chest covered with a dark, ethereal depiction of Yggdrasil, the world tree, it’s branches spreading across strong pectorals and its roots weaving between the hard muscles of his stomach.
“Come,” he motioned to you with his fingers, “come back and touch me.”
You had no hesitation, coming to his call like a pet would their master. It felt safe to be back in his arms again, to have your fingers running over the indigo lines of art upon his handsome skin. He proudly showed you his arms, eyeing you with great interest as you admired him.
“Your children,” you mused softly, tracing the pictures so marvelously stretched upon his musculature.
“Yes,” he laughed softly, “my children. Call me sentimental, if you must.” The enormous snake was no doubt Jormungand, the serpentine dragon that encircled all the oceans, all of Midgard. Then there was Fenrir, the ferocious wolf that was chained away somewhere from all humanity and gods alike, in wait to break his binds and eat the world as the end began again. And then there was Sleipnir, the eight-legged horse that bore the weight of Odin in all of his battles. They were all wild creatures, the offspring of the unfathomably powerful god before you. They were all beasts of anarchy, yet they looked so beautiful upon his skin, so harmless within the ink.
“Order within the chaos…” you whispered, echoing the words of the Seer.
“I want you.”
His powerful voice rumbled from within his chest. It startled you, caused your wandering hands to cease upon his arms and become still before him.
“Why?” Breathless. You felt breathless.
“I have traveled every inch of the nine worlds, regarded every corner for fascinations and enthrallments, yet it was in the homeland where I found what I wanted. You are the most beautiful, pliant little create I have ever beheld, and I want you within my bed.”
“No, you can’t! I’m nothing, no one of importance, you…you can’t.”
He left you then, smirk adorning his features as he sauntered to his bed, waiting for you to follow. And you did, an unspeakable urge to touch him, to follow him, to feel him, to be overwhelmed by him, drawing you to him like a fox to its den, to its safety.
“Well, if you don’t want me, my brother Katsuki would give up his fates in order to have such an alluring woman within his sheets.”
“Katsuki?”
He paused, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, that playful grin still upon his lips.
“Thor, if you rather. We all have many names, but I only want mine to come from your tongue. So many nights I waited to hear you pray to me, call out to me within your dreams, but I tired of lingering. So now I will have you say it, scream it, for me, little servant.”
He pulled you into his lap, hands greedy upon your flesh, pulling at your thighs and sinking between your ribs. He looked untamed upon the bed, hair almost purposely unruly and muscles rolling and ready to hunt what he wanted to take.
“Do you think you can do that for me? Pray to me? Call out for me like you need me?”
Thick fingers gripped at your cheeks; violet eyes hazy like storm clouds above the ocean. You were reminded that he was a devious deity, a shapeshifter, a trickster, the one thing that your elders warned you about as a child. A burning flame, tide on the ebb, new ice, a coiled snake, he was all those deceitful things and more. He was the epitome of chaos, yet he had chosen you, desired you, and you knew that deep within your spirit you wanted him as well. He was handsome beyond compare, but his physical splendor was not all that had you holding onto him. Behind those eyes was a promise of release from every woe, a chance to experience pleasure like you had never known before.
“Yes, Shinsou, whatever you desire.”
“So devoted to the gods,” he whispered, bringing you flush against his body, “now I’ll make you feel like one.”
Slowly, he ran his hand downward, finding the intimate, remarkably soaked place between your legs. He could feel your wetness from beneath your wool coverings and a satisfied groan builds within his throat as his lips curl even more sharply, devilishly.
“So wet for me already,” he chuckles, wrist flicking and sending your clothing away.
You gasped, feeling the threads peel away from your body by what felt like imaginary hands. Just like his tunic before, your shirt and trousers were gone, whisked away to perhaps another dimension never to be seen again.
“Look at you,” he boasts, keeping one hand tucked between your slick thighs as the other rakes across your curves, pinching, pulling, teasing at your flushed skin, “not even the goddesses compare to you. Mhm, thank the All Father for breathing life into you, I must thank him for creating such beauty.”
Your mouth could barely stammer a thanks. You were beguiled, stunned within his lap, your legs stretched over gloriously muscled thighs. You almost felt shameful to be on such display for him, but the hunger in his eyes and the hardening cock underneath told you just how pleased he was to have you.
A deft finger began to circle your most sensitive spot, making you bite your lip as a groan burned within your throat. He was slow and deliberate with his movements, gaze catching every breath you made, every shift and roll of your body. You felt hot, unbearably so, as his finger toyed with you so languidly.
His other hand found your breast, cupping it and testing its weight within his giant palm. His thumb grazed your nipple, circling it at the same pace and movement as your clit. He grinned as he watched you slowly come undone, felt your walls and insecurities crumbling away at his touch.
Shinsou then took your sensitive clit between two fingers, rolling it so perfectly that it sent sparks of pleasure racing across your nerves, surging from your thighs to your toes and back again. He kept going, stroking sensually, purposely, with such expert skill that you felt you could cum just from his slightest touches. Is this what being with a god felt like? Like you were constantly on the edge of euphoria, every touch and stroke like the gift of life within your body?
Your head tipped back as you moan, giving in to the overwhelming pleasure. He watched with glee as the column of your throat was on display for him. He took a moment to press his hot mouth against your flesh, sucking roughly against the side of your neck like he was taking your pleasure for himself. You could only moan again, the sensations already drowning you in such bliss you were surprised your inner coil of pleasure hadn’t broken for him already. He was an expert in giving pleasure just like he was the art of manipulation and sorcery.
All too easily he moved you below him on the bed, his impressive body now hovering over your own, mouth still biting at your neck, fingers still circling your nipple and caressing your pussy.
“Tell me what you want,” it was a soft command against the slick skin of your neck.
“You,” you breathed in deep, breasts pressing against his tattooed chest with your inhale, “please, more.”
“More of what? Of this?” he pinched at your nipple, tugging it and twisting it so wantonly that you couldn’t help but to shriek in pleasure for him, “or this?” his two fingers danced along the lips of your pussy, sliding between the wet folds before returning to your aching clit, swirling against it so proficiently that you felt your inner muscles clenching and begging for release.
“All of it, I want everything.”
“My, my, you are a greedy little thing.”
All at once, he ceased his motions, easing the pressure upon your body and leaving you wanting, burning, begging for more. But he is not gone from you. His fingers, coated in your slick, tauntingly trace over your clit once more, so light it’s like the kiss of life just barely brushing over your delicate flesh. You began to writhe in response, needing more friction, needing more of his touch, but he moved his weight upon your body to suppress you. He was teasing, purposely neglecting to give you the stimulation you so desired.
“Any time you want more, you say my name, little one. Say my name and I can give you everything you desire.”
“Shinsou, please.”
He groaned, he himself coming undone at the sound of your voice. He couldn’t even begin to explain how gratifying it was to hear his name come from your lips. He was no fool of a god, he knew no one prayed to him, but he wanted you to pray to him more than anything he had ever desired before. Your songs of praise would fill him in ways a mere mortal could never fathom; your prayers, his name from your mouth, was more intoxicating than any substance Odin had ever created. To have you, a devoted child of the gods, calling his name while he stole your faith away from every other god and claimed it all for himself, fulfilled him beyond measure.
His touch trailed lowered, finding your puckered pussy pulsing and waiting, ready for him. He entered a single finger, a heavy moan of approval ghosting against your neck as your inner walls contracted around him, pulling him deeper into you.
“So fucking tight,” he lifted his head, finding your eyes closed and pretty mouth agape, “I can’t wait to have my cock in you.”
Waves of pleasure rocked over your body as he moved his finger within you, curling it to massage the fleshy walls, quickly finding a sensitive spot to stroke against. His palm pressed against your clit as he buried another finger into you, the two digits working in tandem to spread you, spear you onto his thick fingers, pushing them far into your depths. Every plunge had you gasping, bursts of bliss spreading across your skin like flames.
His mouth returned to yours as he fingered you, hot and heavy, but his kiss felt controlled, like he was holding back. You reacted quickly, pushing up into him with all your strength, arms circling his neck and pressing him for more. You wanted what he can give, all of it, and you showed him with your actions. Your hands fisted into those vivid purple plumes of hair, tugging as your hips began to match the speed of the hand working within you. You moaned, loud, desperately, your tongue prodding his lips. He graciously accepted your tongue, opening his mouth and wrestling against you. His tongue licked your own, slow and wet, tasting you and groaning at the sweetness.
“Shinsou,” it was a murmur against his mouth, but he heard it, soaked it up and began to thrust and curl his fingers faster than before. You cried out at the pleasure, mouth falling from his.
“You like it a little rough, hm? You’re so easy to read, my dear. I am going to make you cum so hard you’ll be begging for all that I have planned for you.”
His words had your cheeks and ears burning with a blush. He only grinned, choosing to prop himself onto one arm so he could watch you. With every flick of his wrist, every move of his fingers inside of you, he watched your face. He watched how your lips curled, how your jaw clenched. He felt your hands twist in his hair; felt how you would pull on the violet strands in desperation when he touched the perfect spots. His eyes scanned your body as well, watching what made your breasts bounce, your stomach clench, your walls tighten around his fingers. It didn’t take the god long to discover exactly what made you tick.
He rapidly increased his pace, using his newfound knowledge to make your body feel like it could explode at any moment. He touched you just right, plunged his fingers so perfectly as to keep you on the edge of your euphoria for as long as he could. Truthfully, he could’ve kept you in suspense forever, but Shinsou was not a god known for his patience. He wanted to watch you cum, wanted to see your face when you came around the fingers of perhaps the most reviled deity. One even you wouldn’t dare pray to.
“You ready?” He called your name, making your eyes flutter open to see him. He saw the lust within your brilliant irises, your dilated pupils, and that sight alone had his cock harder than it ever had been before. He was no longer sure he could keep his composure as he watched you come undone.
He leaned down closer, close enough to catch your breath within his mouth. He would’ve expected you to kiss him had you not been so far gone, so close to otherworldly release that your lips could no longer form words.
“Cum for me,” that wicked tone of voice was back, his fingers now slamming into your body, “cum for a god, little mortal.”
His thumb returned to your clit, showing it no mercy as he rubbed tight, fast circles against it. His words, his fingers, his body, his breath, it was all too much.
“Sh-Shinsou!”
You reached a high you had never felt before as you came for him. Your head felt dizzy, like you were back to drowning within your dreams, waves and waves of euphoria crashing over you so roughly you felt like you were sputtering for air amidst the onslaught of pleasure. Your walls clenched and unclenched around his unceasing fingers, your chest tightening, your core exploding, heat blooming from every patch of skin he had dared to touch. You screamed. Over and over, the bliss felt never ending, and he baited you for even more.
“That’s right, cum all over my fingers, just like that, just how I want you.”
It felt like he was drawing your orgasm from your body, pulling everything he could from you. His thumb still stroked your clit, fingers still buried deep within your body as you quivered around him. Your thighs clamped around his thick forearm as you finally began to descend from your high, body loosening and sinking into his bed.
He finally stilled his movements. He merely smirked as he watched your chest heave with breaths as you basked in the afterglow of your pleasure.
“Good girl,” he cooed. In the haze you realized how much you wanted to hear those words again, recognized how much you wanted to please him. You wanted more of those encouraging words, more of his admiration, wanted to know how much of a good girl you really were. Your spirit suddenly craved even more, despite the world-shattering orgasm still lingering within your muscles, your blood, your soul.
You felt empty when his fingers left you, but watched in shocked delight as he brought the digits to his awaiting mouth. He sat up before you, sucking at his skin and cleaning your slick from his fingers with a very greedy tongue. He looked wild, uncaged, like the wolf Skoll had finally eaten the moon and brought the world to end.
“Fuck,” you whispered in awe, scrambling for purchase against his sheets as you propped on your elbows to watch him.
He quirked a brow as he slid his tongue between his fingers, relishing your slick as if it was the sweetest honey.
“I’m sorry, did I make the pious girl curse?”
“I’m not pious!” You countered, feeling flustered, shaking your head and pouting as he only laughed.
He smirked as he finished cleaning his fingers, crawling up the bed and pulling you into his lap.
“I dare not argue, not after those delicious sounds you just made for me.”
Shinsou quelled any words that were forming in your mind with a kiss, his lips tasting of you. You moaned against him, feeling his arms snake around your back and hold you to him. His cock was hard and heavy, now prodding against your still pulsating pussy.
“Mhm, how will I take you?”
It was a pondering to himself, but the words still made you tremble. Your nails bit into his shoulders, your nipples hardening as they brushed against the downy hairs of his chest. His strong hands found the flesh of your ass, lifting you to hover over his large, throbbing erection. You held in a breath, waiting, expecting him to take you hard and fast and now, but he merely teased your entrance.
“This way?”
The head of his cock began to spread your lips apart, warm and silken and making you drip even more than before. He sat there for a moment, using the strength of his arms to lift and drop you just ever so slightly onto his cock, each little movement making you gasp.
But then the anchors of his arms were gone, sliding down your thighs as he laid you back on the bed. So easily he moved on top of you again, one hand gripping your thigh, the other slithering up your body to wrap around your tender, kiss bruised throat.
“Or perhaps like this?”
He held you against the bed, cock still hard and waiting between your spread thighs, sliding ever so gently against your pussy. His fingers flexed against your throat and he watched how your eyes flashed with want, with need.
“I could always take you as a woman. You fell so easily into my kiss when I transformed earlier, hm? Would you like that?”
He could feel your gulp underneath his palm, shaky and deep.
“No,” he was smirking, plotting. His deft fingers took your hip into his hand and flipped you over, both hands skimming down your body and pulling you up onto your knees. With a stern hand he kept your breasts pressed into the mattress by applying pressure to your shoulder blades, positioning you just how he wanted. You felt even more exposed than before, your pussy open and wanting and waiting, spread before his hungry eyes like a meal ready to be devoured.
The head of his cock was back at your opening, prodding your lips apart and slowly sinking into you with agonizing slowness. You held your breath, hands fisting into the sheets. He continued to open you more and more, his cock thick and hot. His hand on your hip constrained you securely, keeping you locked into place. The hand on your back did the same, his hold strengthening as he felt you writhe before him.
“Yes,” he purred, cock easing into you, “this is how I want my little servant.”
But the rocking of his hips stopped, the head of his cock now barely pressing inside of you. You breathed heavily against the sheets, sweat trickling down the back of your neck in anticipation. Without being able to see him, face him, you could only feel him. You felt his fingertips press deeper into the curve of your ass, as if readying himself, or perhaps attempting to use restraint. The hand on your back was steady, keeping smooth pressure on your skin. His thighs were solid and strong against your own, his breaths even, his cock so fucking hard.
You cried out in anguish, your aching pussy clenching around the head of his cock.
“Please, Shinsou!”
“Pray to me.”
His tone was nefarious, teasing, almost inhuman in how deeply it reverberated from within that broad chest. You closed your eyes and imagined how the sound must have climbed the dark branches of the world tree upon his skin.
“Pray to me like you did to the other gods in the temple. I want to hear that pretty voice beg for me to fuck you.”
That breathless feeling returned. Your heart began to race, mind rolling around too many thoughts at once that couldn’t be comprehended within your lusty haze. You hastily mulled over words within your head.
“Shinsou…” you began, feeling his fingers begin to mark crescent moons into your flesh, feeling the tip of his cock throb within your core, “wielder of cunning, god of mischief, I beg of you, please bestow upon me great joy and pleasure, take my body as this offering to you, so that I may serve you and grant you the indulges of the flesh—!”
With your final praises tumbling from your lips, he slammed his cock deep inside of you, stretching and spreading you and making you feel like he had set your body alight with magic. Your body lurched forward, nearly toppling over from the power of his thrust, but his strong hands kept you in place, allowing him to begin a brutal speed. Your ass bounced forcefully against his hips, breasts jostling with every thrust. One of his hands curled around your waist to your lower stomach, and he groaned when he realized he could feel his cock bulge from inside of you. He became heedless then, impaling you with reckless abandon, eager to feel your belly swell from the onslaught of his cock.
The forcefulness of his fucking left your muscles aching and your lungs breathless. You were now moaning with every plunge of his cock, as with each stroke he lit a fresh burst of pleasure that rippled across your entire body akin to the streams of enchantments you had seen him wield.
You felt like you were slipping away, having to fight to keep your thoughts alive as he brought you up the mountain of euphoria with just the heavy strokes of his cock.
“Don’t fight the currents. Let go for me.” He grunted the words between thrusts.
You allowed ecstasy to fully wash over your body, allowed his hands to guide you, hold you, take you to far beyond what you once thought the limits of pleasure entailed.
Shinsou moved the hand from your back to your shoulder, using the leverage to pound your body back against his. You could only moan at the feeling, of being so full of his cock, of hearing his groans join the chorus of your own. You clung to the bed with what strength you have left, allowing him to completely take the reins of control and have his way with you.
With each and every thrust, he pulled you back at different angles, trying you, testing you, watching you, seeing which way he fucks you makes you react the most. He listened for sharp cries and deep moans. He felt for your walls to flutter, your abdominal muscles to tighten, learned your body and fucked you with a chaotic yet controlled force.
He leaned over your back, hand moving to your neck, pulling your face up from the sheets. This position has him somehow deeper, head of his cock kissing where the curve of your cavern meets your cervix, farther than any had ever gone before. He filled you to the brim, stretched you so wide you felt you could burst, the intense pleasure of it all bringing tears to the corners of your lashes.
He brought your face closer to his, so that he can kiss your cheek as he fucks you, feel your hair against his chin, watch your breasts bounce so unabashedly from his force.
“You like this, hm? Serving me? Letting me fuck you like this?”
“Yes, yes!”
He squeezed the hand on your stomach, making you moan as you felt the massive cock from inside of you press against your belly.
“You like being so full of my cock? No mortal could ever fuck you like I do!”
“Yes—fuck—you feel so, so good, Shinsou!”
You could feel sweat on his skin, feel his heart beating like a caged raven within his chest. He felt so human, felt so real, but the euphoria he brought you was transcendental.
“You’re such a good girl, such a dirty girl, for me, only me.”
His powerful words were becoming whispers within your hair, vestiges upon your skin. You could only nod, the plowing of his cock into your core now leaving you more breathless than before. You could feel your release nearing, the flames being fanned by every stroke of the head of his cock against your walls, every push of his hand against your belly.
Your slick was dripping down your thighs, pussy so wet that every time his cock assailed your core your ears were met with the sinful sound of drenched bodies meeting one another in animalistic rut. You were climbing the orgasmic ladder again, aided by the sublime feel of his crushing hands upon your neck, your stomach, his vast chest against your back, rough lips pulling your face into him, and his thick, repetitive cock drumming into you.
Your mind was on sensory overload, your body uncontrollably bucking against him, begging for another otherworldly release. You could feel your walls clenching around his cock, your body pleading on its own. Pleasure was singing down your body, bringing pure delight and bliss with every pulse, every push of his cock. You were so close, so fucking close, all you needed was for him to allow you to go over the edge. You had submitted to his currents and knew only he could bring the ebb and flow of release.
You began to chant his name in prayer.
“Fuck yes, little one, just like that. Oh you’re so good, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes,” you choked out, nearly sobbing for relief, “so, so good for you!”
“Then cum, cum for me!”
He roared the words against your cheek, his command overwhelming you and sending you spiraling as the waves of euphoria returned, crashing over your body like a tumultuous sea. Your body crumpled underneath his and he held you, the violent tightening of your body sending the god himself over the edge. Hot cum poured inside of you, making you cry out at the magnificent feeling of being completely filled by him. Your snug walls struggled to flutter around the girth of his cock, prolonging your orgasm and making you feel suspended within his arms, gasping for breath and reveling in every dull thump of his cock inside of you.
He held you for a long moment, hand against your belly, hand around your neck. It was his turn to bask in the afterglow of sex, to feel wholly spent and satisfied with the girl he had handpicked for himself. You were perfect in his arms, hands fisted into his sheets, lips swollen, his seed dripping from where he was still lodged within your depths. You’d let go, allowed him to have you, to take you, and there was no way in the nine fucking realms he was ever letting you go.
Shinsou kept you within his embrace as he collapsed to the bed, inked chest heaving and Jormungand curling around your back to hold you against him.
“Mhm, all the scheming I had to do to get you here, in my bed, filled with my cum.”
“Scheming?” You asked into his chest.
“What, you didn’t think all those dreams were coincidence, no?”
You sat up to look at him, all tussled violet hair, kohl on his cheeks smeared, grin upon his lips.
“And the cats? The owls? All those eyes on you in the dark? All that time spent waiting for you, little one. I even had to whisper my indecent plans to the Seer. Can you imagine that conversation? At least he put it into fun little riddles for you to decipher.”
“I—I can’t believe you would do all of that, for me. You could’ve just taken me.”
He snorted at your remark.
“I did. My hand was forced to interrupt your fucking daily prayer time and beguile you away.”
You nestled back to him, sinking into his skin, his touch.
“Well, I am gleefully bewitched.”
“And to think,” he chuckled, curling a finger under your chin and bringing your eyes to his, “all you had to do was pray to me.”
You were far too tired for rebuttal, choosing to instead settle with a kiss. He had chosen you. And for that you were filled with adoration, filled with a need to please far greater than you had ever desired to find the veneration of any other god. It was all for him, for a god who had no doubt tricked you into his bed.
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This was written for the Citrus Dome writing collab.
#bnha smut#my hero academia fanfic#bnhabookclub#hitoshi shinso x reader#smut with plot#bnha x reader#shinso hitoshi#bnha shinso#bnha shinso hitoshi#shinso x reader#shinsou smut#hitoshi x reader#bnha hitoshi#bnha fanfic#my hero academia x reader
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Request: Sacrifices for You (Vladimir x Reader)
Vladimir skipped a few pages in his book. It was massive and had to be well over a thousand pages.
Supposedly, it was files of sorts, documents from the time the two were ruling. Of course the book wasn't the original, the original being lost to the fire in the castle. However, they recalled most if not all of its contents considering they had lived it and had expectations in terms of quality within the documents. It was how the two Romanians were, they had things done their way and only their way.
Vladimir had just finished helping you bring your stuff to his room since you'd now be living with them.
If anything you gave them a reason to stay home.
Stefan was indifferent whilst Vladimir was happy as long as you were happy. Although, as promised, he left you to unpack to speak with Stefan.
The two trying to calculate their next moves to avoid the Volturi. You were fine with it, immediately putting in your headphones to listen to music whilst you unpacked. You seemed happy enough so Vladimir left you to it.
Since then, half an hour had passed and you were in the middle of unpacking. You were in such a good mood that you didn't seem to care when you began to sing along with the music, even letting out a couple of giggles at the silliness. Hearing this made Vladimir and Stefan pause.
Vladimir looked up at the ceiling with a smile, the book before him now long forgotten.
Stefan chuckled. "Is this what I have to look forward to?"
Vladimir sent him a playful look. "They're happy." He said mostly to himself.
"You act like it's the first time, friend." Stefan smirked.
"You know that is not what I was thinking." Vladimir responded pointedly.
"I do. You've been worrying over them for weeks thinking they were simply agreeing to all of this by means of sacrificing their own happiness." Stefan recalled.
"They didn't get much choice, I just want to make it easier on them."
"Vladimir, that human adores you and the ground you walk upon. Trust me, you don't have anything to worry about."
Vladimir's smile fell. "I'll always worry."
Stefan nodded slowly, understanding Vladimir's pain. "I know." Stefan leaned forward in his chair. "My friend, you and I both know that they've got a difficult time ahead of them but they aren't alone. We're with them."
"I know." Vladimir nodded. "I know. It's pleasant to hear them happy for the time being. That's what came to mind."
"Did you tell them to not unpack everything? They've got another two residences and it won't be ideal of they've got nothing with them when the time comes to move."
"Yes, I did but only figured we can simply get them more stuff if it comes to it." Vladimir shrugged.
You knew Vladimir was relaxed when he out his feet up on the coffee table, with shoes and everything. It meant that in that moment, he simply didn't care. He was completely at ease and you always enjoyed the sight. He stared at the fireplace in front of him, deep in thought. He didn't look at you, it was almost like he hadn't even knew you were there. Although that would be stupid to think.
Of course he knew.
You were the loudest in the house, thanks to your footing and heartbeat.
You smiled down at him before sitting beside him on the couch.
That was when he cast a sparing glance to you, the corner of his mouth upturning in a smile. You broke the gap between you both, nestling against him and moving your legs in-between his own. The position would have been uncomfortable for Vladimir if he was human. However, he barely seemed the weight of your legs against his shins and knees. He wrapped an arm around you, resting your head on top of his own.
"Seconding guessing? Thinking about your escape plan to get away from me?" You smiled and he hummed in amusement. "No, my dear. I'm afraid that will be you when the time comes."
"I don't think so. I like you too much." You said simply with a smile.
"Hm...you better." Vladimir smirked, kissing the top of your head before moving back to rest his head on top of your own.
"Seriously, though. You've never doubted me? You'll literally be stuck with me forever." You asked.
He hummed in amusement.Vladimir wet his lips. "Being with you...is unable to be put into words. We can try. I can use every word I can think of in every language but put them together and it still doesn't quite do it justice. From the day we met, keeping up with you is maddening."
You giggled.
"I'm serious!" He smiled. "It has always been a case of me keeping up with you. The irony about it is amusing." Vladimir a smile faltered. "Although I don't dare keep up and...if those Italian scum were to ever..." Vladimir trailed off, looking away. You knew he couldn't look at you, remembering what had happened to his mate.
"Do you need some company? For when they come and you have to run?" You asked. Vladimir's eyes moved back to yours.
"You and me. If they come with you then I can take that." You told him.
"You would do this for me?"
"Vladimir, you are the love of my life. I want to spend the rest of my life with you- no matter how long that is."
Vladimir stared at you, sadness in his eyes.
"Hey, I'm not the only one." You smiled taking his hand. "Aro is married. Someone stays with him despite the disgusting things he has done."
Vladimir pulled you closer to him, your legs across his lap as he turned slightly to look at you. "That kind of love is not something you want."
"Hm?"
"We know lots of things about the Volturi. We know about their wives. Aro and Sulpicia are hardly a lovely couple." Vladimir explained.
"What do you mean?" You asked.
"Long ago, to be married to a man was to be owned by them. Sulpicia gave her self to Aro knowing that he was of wealth and power. The gifts he gives her are shiny and catch her eyes, so much that she is willing to overlook anything he does. Sulpicia isn't just Aro's mate, she's his possession. He has her locked in a tower. They might be in love, but it's not the same as falling in love with a person. They fell in love with the lifestyle before they fell in love with the person." "It's hard to believe that kind of love is possible. To be attached to a person for personal gain and still it's deemed love." You said quietly, staring into his eyes. "There are all kinds of love, my dear." Vladimir answered softly.
"Is that why you're worried that I'm willing to do this?" You asked.
"No. I...you and I have the right kind of love. We are solid but it's because I love you that I can't help but worry about everything you'd have to leave behind for me. No one realises the shock they have to go through until they're feeling it in that moment."
"Then we'll take it one day at a time. Do you plan on abandoning me after changing me?"
Vladimir's expression changed to one of anger. "Of course not! Why would even think of something like that?"
"Then I won't be alone. I'll have you."
As with everything, it took time to really put your words to the test and you couldn't lie to anyone about just how difficult it was to know that the process had already begun.
Your family had no idea they'd never see you again, whilst you couldn't forget.
It took being informed that you were classified a missing person to really register that this was happening and that your family would never have closure.
"Do you need to talk to me?" Vladimir said softly, walking up behind you.
“I’m fine.”
“That’s a lie.” Vladimir said simply. “We’ve all had to make sacrifices for this life.”
“I’m fine, Vladimir!”
Vladimir said nothing, staring into your eyes, staring at the tears that had begun to build. Slowly, he moved closer.
“Don’t.” You said warily. Yet he continued to walk toward you.
“Don’t!” Your voice quivered, this time your tone becoming a plea.
Vladimir pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly.
Silence filled the room, other than your soft cries that were muffled against him. Quickly, you clung to him, pressing your head further into him.
“This pain, it won’t last forever. I apologise for the life you’re leaving behind for me. I can assure you that I will spend every single day ensuring that you won’t regret it.” He pulled you away from him, just enough to wipe your tears with his thumbs. “Now take a deep breath. Get some sleep, you didn’t sleep last night and then we’ll see how you’re feeling later.”
You nodded, quietly.
A few hours later, you woke up to Vladimir’s arm around you, a smile pressing against the skin behind your ear before a light cold kiss. You couldn’t help but smile, reaching behind you and eventually settling for running your fingers through his hair. He barely let you turn around in his hold but smiled none the less as his nose brushed against your own.
Soon the feelings had began in build once more. You decided you need to hear one particular person. Someone who knew what you were feeling. Bella answered her phone upon the first ring. Being a vampire she was now quicker at everything and it was bizarre because then you had to get used to her.
"Hey."
"Hey Bella, can you talk?" You asked.
"Yeah, what's up?" She asked.
You paused for a moment, collecting your thoughts and that's when Bella caught on something was wrong.
You inhaled. "You know, when I was a kid I felt things really deeply. I was one of those kids that couldn't bottle up their emotions but didn't know what to do with them before they got too much. So my mum would come to my level and tell me to blow, to move the hair on the sides of her face. It worked, it calmed me down and distracted me all at the same time. Although, I can't blow on people now that I'm older."
Bella chuckled. "I won't tell anyone if you do it through the phone to me." She smiled, looking at the floor, kicking a heel back and forth lightly.
"I think I'm regretting my decision to leave my life behind." You admitted.
Bella stated quiet, allowing you to continue.
"Vladimir is great and I love him to death but, giving up my life for someone in such a way. It's going against everything I was ever taught and..." You trailed off. "...and no one tells you how to do it the right way." Bella finished for you.
"I can't help but feel angry towards you because you made it seem so easy." You said quietly. Once again Bella stayed quiet. She wasn't going to be angry with you for your feelings, not when this is what you needed.
"I knew this would be hard and painful but now that I'm actually having to do it I...I knew the decision. I knew what had to be done but now that I have to do it..." You trailed off again.
"You feel like you didn't know a thing about it." Bella smiled sadly.
"I had no idea what I had to do." You shook your head, feeling tears in your eyes. "It's difficult to talk about it, to someone who hasn't experienced it or is so far past it they aren't really recalling the pain. That I'm forcing my family through a terrible loss for my own happiness."
"I'm so sorry, (Y/N)." Bella responded with sympathy. It was all she could say because nothing would make it easier for you. Only time.
"Vladimir, you're rushing me!" You finally cried out after what felt like pestering. "Darling, I'm not rushing you. I'm telling you that the world isn't going to wait for you on this. The longer you hesitate the harder it will be!"
"I'm not ready!" You argued.
"You won't ever be ready, (Y/N)!" Vladimir said firmly.
"So you'd rather did this quickly so I can feel trapped by you!?"
Vladimir faltered, a flicker of anger in his eyes. "Excuse me?"
You paused for a second. "I don't know if I want this anymore." You said weakly, tears building up. "I don't think I can give you what I wanted for the future." Vladimir clenched his jaw but said nothing, instead storming out of the room. You squeezed your eyes shut when you heard the door downstairs slam.
After two hours he came back but he most certainly wasn't calm, judging by the yelling he was doing whilst in conversation with Stefan told you that.
You weren't sure if Stefan was trying to settle him or not but bad a feeling that he couldn't even if he wanted to. Vladimir was hurt. Very hurt by your words. That you knew for sure. You couldn't blame him either. You hadn't meant it, you just felt pressured into rushing into it. Even some anger as you knew he was right. You couldn't keep putting off leaving your life behind along with everyone in it. However you were punished for it.
Vladimir wouldn't talk to you properly for three days. He was distant. With each day your heart was heavy, wanting to resolve the issue but he simply wouldn't allow the chance. That was until the third day.
"Vladimir, please talk to me." You finally said.
Vladimir looked up from his book. "You say that like I haven't spoken to you in some time." He answered.
"You haven't. Not really." You retorted and Vladimir didn't respond so you continued. "You give me the minimum. If I need something you help me, you'll give brief answers to anything I say but really you aren't even in the same room as me, Vladimir." You stepped closer. "I want to talk about this. I-I can't do this by myself."
After a second Vladimir sighed before closing his book and putting it on the coffee table before standing up. "Very well."
"You know, holidays was the only time my family and I could really spend time together." You began. "Throughout the year we'd all be busy but those holidays always guaranteed that from wherever we were in life or the world, we'd come back. My family want to keep close forever, my great-grand-parents had been the ones to really double down on it and our family has been like that ever since. I remember my older cousins were going to college, I was only a kid at the time. All I really knew at the time was that they weren't really around after that. My parents made me promise that is always be around, that they'd never be left wondering where I was and teach the importance of family to my children." You looked down, biting your lip. "It's really hard to think that I won't be around anymore and they'll always wonder why I left." A tear ran down your cheek. Vladimir moved closer, standing before you as you continued.
“I'm so angry with myself, for doing this to my family but then I remember that I didn't get that choice. Once I found out what you were, there was no going back."
Vladimir nodded, understanding exactly what you were referring to. Vladimir took hold of your arm tugging you closer to him, filling the gap between you both. His grip was a little too firm, making you think he was angry but when he enveloped you against his chest, you knew he was trying to comfort you.
"I don't want to be left with nothing. No roots, no family. Nothing." You said quietly.
"I know." Vladimir said quietly. "I know how that feels because it was ripped away from me. Growing up is challenging but everyone does it. Eventually everyone leaves the nest. I had a large coven, many I called my brothers and sisters. Stefan and I were two of twelve leaders. It was all ripped away from me and this is all I have left." Vladimir's grip on you tightened. "Although after a long time, I met you. A source of happiness I never thought I could ever find again. I've gained so much with you in my life and I fear that at the end of the day, I won't be able to give you enough to make all of your sacrifices worth it. I am but one person, but I can give you forever. It's not what you planned or wanted but if you want it, it's yours. I'm pulling you into a whole other world and your scared and confused. That's on me. That is my fault. However, try to remember going forward that this is what you chose. This is what you said you wanted."
"What if I don't know I want anymore?" You asked quietly.
"Well...that is on you." Vladimir responded before softly kissing your forehead.
You had grown distant after that conversation, doing some soul searching and Vladimir could understand it.
He respected it, even as a couple of weeks passed with this being the only thing on your mind.
One day, Stefan told him that you were out in the nearest field, looking for him. Vladimir had just returned from hunting and didn't really feel like trailing behind his human companion at that moment. Vladimir gave Stefan a sarcastic remark that you'd certainly not find Vladimir in the field of all places.
Although Stefan insisted that Vladimir would want to go to you. It was most definitely worth his while. Vladimir sighed but did so, picking up and following your scent.
"What took you so long!?" You huffed. "You're inhumanly fast, yet I could have ran laps in the time you got here!"
Vladimir sighed with an eye roll. "My deepest apologies, my dear. I wasn't aware you were looking for me considering I have just returned from a hunt."
In seconds, Vladimir was on a branch of the nearest tree. Vladimir crouched down on the branch, resting his head in one hand, smiling down at you from the tree. It was a smile of pure adoration and a hint of menace.
"I couldn't help but think to myself about what we'd have had if we were an ordinary couple." You began before using the empty field to illustrate your vision. "Our dream house where there our front door has a hall that leads to our kitchen and the first door on the left, we'd make an archway for the living room. We'd put the dining room in the corner between the living room and the kitchen. We'd have two bathrooms, upstairs and downstairs that we'd end up hating because we can't stop bickering on who's turn it is to clean them!"
Vladimir couldn't help but melt as he listened to you. His eyes softening as he pieced together his own image of your dream, leaning further into his hand.
"Our kids would get the larger bedroom. We'd regret that decision since they'll never pay a bill for the house so why should they get the big room?"
Vladimir chuckled and so did you before you carried on.
"Although then they grow up quicker than we could have ever imagined and even then we keep that room empty because we don't have the heart to move our stuff there all because at the end of the day, that was our babies room." You felt yourself grow emotional, a pang of sadness hitting your chest as the vision seemed to disintegrate around you.
"Then I realised, that dream wasn't with you. If you and I were to have kids, we'd never forgive ourselves for the constant running and putting them through that." Vladimir stayed silent, his smile gone but still focused on you.
"The person I pictured sharing that dream with, doesn't exist, there was never a face. That person could never give me even half of what you've given me and it's just beginning." You began to smile again, widely, excited at the thought alone before meeting Vladimir's gaze. "Instead of a child, we have Stefan and he'd snap my neck if I ever babied him."
Vladimir couldn't help but laugh. "So where's our bedroom?" He asked.
"We'd get the biggest one. We find places to store the ridiculous number of books you have that aren't even in English." This time Vladimir laughed.
"I don't need that dream, I don't want it without you...and I need you, Vladimir. I'll always need you." You said finally.
Vladimir stood before jumping down from the tree and walked briskly towards you.
You continued to wait for a response but instead, Vladimir pulled you close to him pulling you in for a kiss.
As soon as he was certain he couldn't pull you in any further, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his free hand holding your face.
"How lucky am I to have someone like you?" Vladimir said warmly. "You speak as though loving you isn't the easiest thing in the world sometimes."
#request#twilight#volturi#the volturi#reader#vladimir and stefan#the romanians#the romanian coven#one shot#oneshot
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Jin Rusong Lives pt12 / On AO3
Nie Huaisang discovers that it's not easy to kiss a pretty man when you have a job to do
When he was very young, a year or so after the death of their father, Nie Huaisang had wondered about his brother being single. Since he’d personally been something of a brat, and none too impressed with the changes that circumstances had forced upon his brother, he had come to the conclusion that Nie Mingjue just wasn’t nice enough for anyone to like him that way.
Nie Huaisang, moved by pity, had promised his brother that he would stay with him all his life, but only if Nie Mingjue never made him attend sabre practice again. His noble sacrifice had been met with indifference, and Nie Mingjue had just sent him to train anyway, proving that he definitely was the hardest, coldest, least lovable person in the world, and deserved to be single.
Some years later, Nie Huaisang had once more wondered why his brother was yet unmarried. At that time, he had been mostly concerned by the fact that made him heir to Qinghe Nie’s leadership, a most horrible realisation to have when he only wished to enjoy his time in Gusu, kiss pretty people, and never learn a single thing in his life.
He had at that time befriended Jiang Cheng, whose views on love and marriage were entirely unlike what Nie Huaisang felt himself. And then, there had also been that list of popular young bachelors. The second proved that Nie Mingjue was desirable, while the first offered the consideration that not everyone longed for a partner. Nie Huaisang had tried to accept his brother the way he accepted his friend, though it annoyed him that he'd have to be the one producing an heir. He’d already started taking notice of Lan Xichen around then, and no girl in the world could have been even half as beautiful.
Later still, after the Sunshot Campaign, Nie Huaisang once again reconsidered his opinion regarding Nie Mingjue’s situation. His brother wasn't quite as cold as he pretended, and it happened sometimes that he would let his gaze linger on a pretty girl, though never long enough to be noticed. Some of those girls would have made fine mistresses for the Unclean Realm, and could have given Nie Mingjue the heir which would ensure Nie Huaisang would never have to be sect leader.
But as Nie Mingjue's temper deteriorated in the years leading to his death, after witnessing the violence with which he lost his life, the same violence their father had shown in his last moments, Nie Huaisang formed a new theory; if Nie Mingjue had never married, it was because he was scared of hurting others.
For a decade, Nie Huaisang satisfied himself with that theory. It went well with the image he had of his brother, noble and self sacrificing. It also helped rekindle his hatred of Jin Guangyao by reminding him that it was his actions that had robbed Nie Mingjue of the loving family he deserved. But the truth, Nie Huaisang was now realising, might have been more simple than that.
It was just so damn complicated to have a sentimental life as a sect leader, and even more so while raising a child.
Little Jin Rusong, bless him, was the sweetest child in the world, polite, obedient, affectionate. Considering how difficult his presence made things, Nie Huaisang felt immense sympathy for his late brother, who'd had to deal with a hellspawn like himself. Nie Mingjue might have thought that his little brother would embarrass him or throw a fit out of jealousy if he tried to flirt with anyone… and Nie Huaisang couldn't deny he would have taken great joy in doing just that.
At least, Jin Rusong meant no harm when he'd cried out just as Nie Huaisang, after a decade of hopelessness, was about to be kissed again by the man he loved. With the rough evening he'd had, the little boy also couldn't be blamed for being worried about falling asleep alone, so that had ended any chance for Nie Huaisang to have more time with Lan Xichen right then.
In the morning, Nie Huaisang had the pleasant surprise of seeing Lan Xichen enter the room at the same time as the servant who brought breakfast. Although they usually dined together these days, to spend breakfast together was entirely new.
"I have been awake for a while," Lan Xichen explained before Nie Huaisang could ask a single question. "Even here I usually follow our rules and…"
He trailed off, a touch of red blooming on his cheeks as he stared a moment at Nie Huaisang, before promptly averting his eyes. Perhaps he remembered that he’d boldly offered to break some of those rules only the night before. Nie Huaisang certainly hadn’t forgotten.
"I was awake and thought I'd come see you," Lan Xichen quickly finished. "I hope you don't mind?"
"I'm always happy to have you in my room," Nie Huaisang retorted, delighted to see the other man's blush deepen. He'd missed flirting. It had been a long while since he'd done that, and he felt rusty, but he was sure Lan Xichen would be forgiving.
The three of them sat down for breakfast. Nie Huaisang, quite innocently, tried to sit next to Lan Xichen rather than Jin Rusong, but the child protested against that, saying he wanted to be sitting close to Lan Xichen. He then proceeded to also monopolise the conversation, clearly delighted to have both of his uncles at his disposal. Both men still attempted to flirt a little, but eventually had to give up and settle for exchanging fond looks over the table.
When breakfast was over, Nie Huaisang helped Jin Rusong get dressed and ready for his day while Lan Xichen watched. They all three went to the classroom, and as they walked Lan Xichen stood a little too close, causing his hand to brush against Nie Huaisang every so often. At least, he did so until Jin Rusong grabbed both their hands, seeming in an excellent mood that morning and determined to enjoy both his uncles at once.
When Jin Rusong had been handed to his teacher, there was a brief moment of awkwardness. Nie Huaisang stood silent near the classroom door, suddenly as nervous as a teenager with a crush. His only comfort was to see Lan Xichen equally anxious.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” Lan Xichen suggested. “We could…” he hesitated, pink dusting his face, and finished miserably: “we could walk.”
“I’d love to walk,” Nie Huaisang replied with too much eagerness.
Lan Xichen smiled, looking more shy and uncertain than he’d done the previous night. Nie Huaisang also found it harder to think about renewing their old connection, now that it was light around them. Without darkness to soften the world around them, he could remember every reason he’d given ten years earlier to argue against their little romance, every fear of a political disaster, of blackmail if they were discovered, of losing the last true friend he had. And yet even like that, Nie Huaisang knew he could not resist his feelings, not this time.
He was tired of denying himself the things he wanted, he thought as he reached out to take Lan Xichen’s hand.
And that was when Nie Funyu found them, and scolded Nie Huaisang for forgetting that he’d agreed to see a local magistrate that morning about a series of mysterious disappearances in a nearby town. The magistrate in question had been waiting for a while already, and was quite unhappy about it. Nie Huaisang had no choice but to follow his first disciple, and could not even offer Lan Xichen a chance for a lunch together, as it had already been agreed he would eat with that magistrate.
“Duty comes first,” Lan Xichen said with a thin smile that lacked its usual warmth.
It was a comfort, Nie Huaisang supposed, to know that he wasn’t the only one irritated by this unexpected interruption.
The meeting with that magistrate went well. Once the situation was explained, Nie Huaisang offered different ways to deal with it, so that some important people who appeared involved would not be offended if they were innocent, nor allowed a chance to escape he’d they’d done something nefarious. The magistrate appeared satisfied by the solution offered, as well as by the meal. Sadly, the man was of a curious nature, and hinted very strongly that he would like to be given a tour of the Unclean Realm, admitting he was fascinated with cultivation, though lacking any talent himself.
Nie Huaisang had no choice but to show him around. This, in turn, meant that the amount of work he would normally have done during the afternoon piled up. Even when the magistrate had left, Nie Huaisang found himself busy with correspondence, before having to give some lessons to the juniors, as Nie Funyu occasionally insisted he did, “so the little ones know who you are, zongzhu”.
Then some other business came up, so that by the time Nie Huaisang was finally free to join Lan Xichen and Jin Rusong for dinner, they were almost done eating and he was exhausted. Even if he’d still had the energy to think of flirting, Jin Rusong happened to be in a chatty and joyful mood, demanding to play, and Nie Huaisang had to oblige until both of them were too sleepy to go on. Lan Xichen was very graceful about it, and offered to keep Jin Rusong for the night so that Nie Huaisang had a chance to sleep more deeply.
The offer was immediately taken, and Nie Huaisang stumbled back to his room where he dropped on his bed half dressed, too tired to bother with clothes.
The following day showed promises of more contradictions to Nie Huaisang’s plans. While he would have wanted to finally continue his conversation with Lan Xichen, as soon as he was done with his breakfast, some juniors came to find him to complain about a problem they were having. Someone’s cousin had said something about someone else’s fiancée, who happened to be close friends with the young master of a small sect who now threatened everyone with a duel.
It was only a small dispute, but Nie Huaisang had seen what happened to arguments allowed to fester, so he gave the situation his full attention and wrote right away to some of the people concerned in an attempt to make everyone calm down. But then, since he had gone to his office to write those letters, Nie Funyu found him there and took the chance to make him review some bills that he thought were not quite right.
It was nearly noon when Lan Xichen knocked on the door of Nie Huaisang’s office. He appeared slightly disappointed to find that Nie Huaisang was not alone, which Nie Huaisang thought funny. Nie Funyu did not share his amusement, and his mood turned sour when Lan Xichen asked if he might keep them company. Nie Huaisang promptly agreed, which annoyed his first disciple. It would take a while until Nie Funyu no longer resented Lan Xichen for his former friendship with Jin Guangyao, but he would have to get over it. Nie Huaisang intended to keep Lan Xichen in his life.
He just wished they could have half a shichen to themselves to decide how to make that work.
An impossible wish, it seemed.
Still, at long last, lunch time came to free Nie Huaisang from his work. Not only that, but he knew that Nie Funyu was teaching all afternoon, meaning it would be that much easier to avoid work for a little while.
Lunch was unmemorable. Some elders insisted that Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen eat with them, complaining that their sect leader had neglected them lately. It was not entirely untrue, but Nie Huaisang wished he could have neglected those elders today too. It wasn't even possible to chat with Lan Xichen in such company, though since they were sitting next to each other, their hands accidentally touched frequently.
After they were done eating, Nie Huaisang promptly asked Lan Xichen if he would mind checking something with him in his quarter. Just as quickly, Lan Xichen agreed, and they both walked there a little more quickly than was dignified for two sect leaders, worried about more interruptions.
There were none. Nobody stopped them on their way to Nie Huaisang’s quarters, and they were allowed to finally be alone together again. Nie Huaisang felt like a mischievous teenager trying to escape parental supervision to get naughty with their crush. He found that he quite enjoyed that. He hadn’t felt this young in years.
"I'm glad you're taking your duties more seriously, but surely your sect can function without you sometimes," Lan Xichen said as they closed the door behind them.
His voice warried with such petulance that Nie Huaisang almost laughed.
"Xichen, were you getting impatient maybe?" came the teasing answer.
A slight frown appeared on Lan Xichen's face, before he stepped closer and took Nie Huaisang’s hand.
"Yes, I was."
He said it so simply, as if it were evident. Perhaps it was, after having waited so many years for this. Nie Huaisang was hardly any better. Patience had been his main quality for a while, but now he was tired of waiting.
"Well, we're here now," he said, breathless. "I'm all yours, Lan Huan."
Lan Xichen shivered at the use of that name, a first between them, and squeezed Nie Huaisang’s hand, with a tender smile on his lips.
That smile disappeared when there was a knock on the door and Lan Xichen glared at it. Nie Huaisang felt just as disappointed, but was starting to find some humour in the situation. He almost laughed as he freed his hand from Lan Xichen's.
Nie Mingjue was well avenged for every bit of trouble his brother had caused him.
“Come in,” Nie Huaisang ordered. “Oh. Jin Yixin, is there a problem?”
Jin Yixin came into the room and bowed with cold elegance, while at her side Jin Rusong tried to copy her posture. He looked very serious, the way he always did around Jin Yixin, clearly trying to impress his teacher and prove that he was a worthy student.
“I come to Nie zongzhu to make a request,” she said. “Some of the concepts I’m trying to explain to the young master would profit from outdoor demonstrations. I was hoping you would allow me to take him outside of the Unclean Realm? I’ve tried using the gardens to make my point, but they are too touched by human minds and it does not work.”
The request made Nie Huaisang frown.
It was nothing particularly strange, Nie teachers also took the younger juniors past the walls of the Unclean Realm sometimes, just for a shichen, to show something about… energies? It might have to do with energies. Nie Huaisang hadn’t paid attention as a child, and he still struggled with some of those concepts as an adult. What he understood, though, was that those concepts were important to cultivate in a solid, healthy manner, and he didn’t want to deprive Jin Rusong of a chance to learn well.
“Where would you go? And when?”
“There is a little field behind the Unclean Realm that’s uncultivated, and well within your borders,” Jin Yixin explained. “I was thinking of going there. Perhaps this afternoon? Of course it can wait if you’d rather check the place yourself first.”
“No, I think I see what you mean,” Nie Huaisang replied. “I used to go there sometimes to admire the view of the mountains, and to watch the birds that live around. I suppose there’s no harm…”
He hesitated. The idea of letting Jin Rusong leave the Unclean Realm, however briefly, however well accompanied, was deeply unpleasant. At the same time, a little field trip like that was likely to tire out the child, and if he could be convinced to go to sleep early…
They wouldn’t be going very far, he thought, and Jin Yixin came with the approval of both Jin Rulan and Jiang Wanyin. Nie Funyu, who had seen her train and even got to spar with her once, also vouched for her being a very strong cultivator. She’d taken part in the Sunshot Campaign even. Clearly she was someone who could be trusted with Jin Rusong’s safety.
“Take some of my disciples with you,” Nie Huaisang ordered. “And take some distress signals too. I don’t think Qinghe Nie’s reputation has fallen so low that anyone would dare to cause trouble so close to the Unclean Realm, but let’s take every precaution. SongSong, you will be very good and listen to your teacher, won’t you?”
The little boy enthusiastically promised, and was still grinning when Jin Yixin and him left the room to go find some people who might accompany them.
As soon as the door closed, Lan Xichen pressed Nie Huaisang against the nearest wall and kissed him, unwilling to risk any further delay. After a brief moment of surprise, Nie Huaisang wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist and pulled him closer, melting into the kiss.
It felt nothing like that miserable kiss they’d exchanged on the day of Nie Mingjue’s funeral. Back then it had felt like a farewell between them, while now Nie Huaisang could hope there would be more of this in the future. Lan Xichen’s passion in kissing him, the way their bodies were pressed together, certainly promised more.
They kissed against the wall for a while, impatiently clinging to each other. Then Lan Xichen, always so clever, suggested that there was a sofa right there, which might be more comfortable than to remain standing. Nie Huaisang felt tempted to point out that if comfort was an issue, his bed wasn’t very far either, and it would be even more comfortable. But the sofa was closer, and there was no urgency. They had found each other again at last, and had the rest of their lives to explore all they could want from that.
Although they’d started sitting on the sofa, before too long they were lying on it, Nie Huaisang straddling Lan Xichen, kissing him more slowly now as they allowed their hands to wander, enjoying accidental brushes of skin on skin, but making no effort to discard their layers of clothing. There was no rush, not now that they had each other, and Nie Huaisang thought he could have happily spent the rest of his life like this, nestled on a sofa with the man he loved, lazily kissing him.
Time passed around them without their notice, until a knock on the door forced them to return again to the world around them.
Nie Huaisang’s first thought was that he had to be cursed to never enjoy a single moment of peace. Then, noticing how the shadows had grown longer, he realised with some embarrassment that they’d been together like that for a long while, and it wasn’t so surprising that someone should be needing him for something or other. He tried to get up, only for Lan Xichen to hold him by the hips, keeping him in place. Nie Huaisang almost laughed, and seeing how handsome Lan Xichen was like this, flushed and with his lips so red, he couldn’t resist leaning for one more kiss.
Another knock on the door, insistent enough to make it shake, put an end to that. Nie Huaisang, surprised by such urgency, stood up. Lan Xichen did not stop him again, looking puzzled as well, and followed him when he went to open the door, both of them trying to put order to their appearance.
One of his disciples was on the other side, looking distraught and breathless from running.
“Nie zongzhu, there’s a problem,” he explained, speaking so fast it made him hard to understand. “The men who went with Jin Yixin and Jin xiao-gongzi have returned. They’ve been beaten up, they say they were ambushed and attacked.”
“What?” Nie Huaisang gasped, so shocked he had to support himself against the doorframe. “How…" A thought crossed his mind, and he grabbed the man's collar. "Where's Rusong?”
The man shook his head.
“Zonghzhu, he’s been taken.”
#xisang#nie huaisang#lan xichen#jin rusong#jin rusong lives#has it been nearly 9 months since I updated this fic? maybe. Who are you?? the fanfic police???#I'm procrastinating so hard on the time travel fic lol#mo dao zu shi#mdzs#jau writes
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The Bookshop Keeper - Dabi mini series PT. 3
Masterlist A/N: sorry this took a while to get out ! Lmk if you want to be tagged !
Chapters: pt.1 pt.2 EC pt.4
The next morning you wake up wrapped in Dabi’s arms, you try rolling over but he tightens his hold on you. “Hun, I have to go into the shop today,” you tell him softly, turning to face him. You watch him sleep, admiring the beautiful man in front of you, “stop staring” he mumbles making you giggle at him. You check your phone, 6:08, “i should probably get up now” he groans and tightens his grip more, “no” “I have to open the shop,” you try to reason, “have someone else do it?” At this point he’s practically pouting, and you consider it for a second, “please” his morning voice is so deep, making it harder to resist, but he speaks to you so kindly it burns a fire in your tummy, “okay hun” you agree, asking one of the girls to open up shop for you. Once you get a response you snuggle in closer to Dabi, he lets out a content sigh when he feels your body relax against his, “ ‘s nice” you whisper, “don’t remember the last time I slept so comfortably,” Dabi hums in agreement, you continue to admire him smiling as you do.
The morning is spent laying in bed, wrapped in his arms and in between the sheets. When you finally get up it’s almost noon and Dabi is draped over your shoulder while you try to get ready. While you shower Dabi makes you breakfast, which he forces you to eat in bed with him, once again wrapped between his legs. You tell him to shower and try to find him something to wear, he was much taller than you but you were sure your sweats would fit him and you were right. He walks into the room, grey sweats hanging lowly on his hips, chest exposed. “I should go buy you some clothes,” you say trying to avert your eyes, “why? These look good on me,” he smirks “don’t they?” He teases loving the way your eyes wrack over his body, “yeah bu-“
“But nothing, We can just share,”
Truth of the matter is, Dabi would hate to make you spend money on him ‘Fuck, maybe I should’ve packed something,’ he mentally scolds himself.
“Come here” he reaches out for you and drags you back into bed, pulling you to sit on him,
“Take a nap,” “but we slept all day,” you whine, his eyes are stern, “take a nap or I’ll put you to sleep,” he says with a glimmer in his eyes. Your face turns red, not quite understanding but either way, you lay between his legs, arms wrapping around his waist. He smiles one hand holding a book and the other playing with your hair,
“What is stronger
Than the human heart
Which shatters over and over
And still lives,”
His voice was smooth and cool, left you hanging off his every word…
Once you were sleeping comfortably Dabi slips out from under you, pulling his (now washed) hoodie back over his head and quietly making his way out. He arrived at his destination, entering his room wordlessly,
“Where’d you go?” Toga giggles, “Shiggy was mad you left so soon,” “had things to do” he fills his bag and pushes past Toga “bye” he’s almost out of the building when a figure appears before him, “leaving so soon?” Kurogiri asks, “yeah I did the mission now I’m taking a break,” “is that where you ran off to last night ?” Shigaraki questions, “None. Of. Your. Business.” Dabi seethes, “I’ll make it my business,” Shigaraki threatens, voice low and menacing, “whatever just call me when you need me” he tries pushing past the two, “Don’t forget Dabi, you’re the one who asked to join, no one forced you to be here,” and with that the two of them disappear, “fuck” Dabi decides to take the long route back to your place, making sure no one follows him.
When he gets back you’re still sleeping, he takes this as an opportunity to 1.check that your home was safe and properly locked and 2.browse all the books you had. He stops when he finds a journal filled with poems or excerpts of random topics. Each page had a title and date, as he read them he felt like he was watching you grow. He could feel you fall in love, he felt the pain or your heartbreaks and he felt the love you felt once you mended yourself. Your writing grew dramatically from sappy cliches to passionate, from melancholy to understanding. He’s reading one of your favorite poems when you walk in, rubbing sleep from your eyes and plopping down onto the couch. “Hi hun,” “hi doll,” he smiles down at you before taking a seat next to you continuing the poem he had been reading,
“ ‘You are kind, you are loving, and you are independent.’ I say to the girl in front of me and as she stares back, I know exactly what she’s thinking. The weight on her shoulders feel like mountains and she wonders why she has to be these things. Why people can always depend on her but she can never depend on them. Why she always gives love when she’s the one who desperately needs it. Why she’s always so kind to those who mistreat her. We stare at each other and ponder all the reasons, but she is who she is and it’s too deeply rooted in her to find out why.”
You smile as he finishes the last sentence, remembering the state you were in when you wrote it,
“Wow that feels like it was so long ago,”
“You could’ve been a great writer,” he tells you,
“Reading is more of my thing,”
“Why?”
“Because everyone needs an escape, books just always helped me,”
“And you think everyone who walks into your shop is looking for an escape?”
“Yeah, that's why you came in, isn’t it?” Your eyes were so wide and full of curiosity, he was almost tempted to just bare his soul for you, right then and there,
“Yeah I guess I was,” he leans in close, lips almost touching yours, his blue eyes searching yours,
“What would a pretty girl like you need an escape from?”
“My family” you respond instantly, surprising not only hun but yourself, it wasn’t something you were really open about but Something about him made you feel safe. Like you could say anything and he’d never judge you, like he could understand you. But before you could ask what he was escaping from he asks, “do you see them often?”
“No, it’s easier to love them from afar,” he chuckles at that, “and when I do visit them it’s mainly just to see my siblings,” this time he nods understandingly, he checks up on his siblings too from time to time.
“So then are you gonna see them for the holidays?”
“Maybe but probably not, I’ll probably spend my day in the shop,”
“May I join you?” He asks,
“I’d love nothing more” you giggle,
When you were younger your mother always told you “love is sacrifice,” and you never knew what she meant by that, because here you were lying beside Dabi feeling like you were floating.
———————
Taglist:
@orenjineki @liitlesushi
@icedtea-with-lemon16 @dabis-bitch
@c0metar5on @threbony
@prince-cahn @whalerus
@caramelsquares @vanilla-iced-latte
@sssjuico10
#mha fanfiction#mha imagines#mha x reader#dabi headcanons#dabi imagine#dabi smut#dabi x reader#dabi x y/n#mha dabi#dabi todoroki#yandere dabi#bnha dabi#dabi my hero academia
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Hey Hamliet! Love your metas! In an earlier meta, you'd called Mikasa "the thematic core" of the series. Could you please elaborate on what you meant by that?
Hi!
So, all decent stories have themes, but some stories have a thesis stated at the beginning and some state it at the end; some are interested in answers and some in questions.
Sometimes, there’s a specific character who embodies the main theme in everything they do. Not all stories have a thematic core character, and frankly many stories should not, because it can be very, very hard to challenge this character if they embody the story’s core principle. This character tends to be either a protagonist or the wise mentor archetype, also. I’ll talk about two characters whom I think embody this well, and one character whom I think does not: Tenma (Monster), Mikasa (SnK), and Deku (BNHA).
Now, to be clear, Monster, BNHA, SnK are extremely different stories: Monster is a seinen crime drama, SnK is pessimistic and deeply psychological and philosophical; BNHA is optimistic and about superheroes. But stories don’t have to be deeply psychological nor pessimistic to unpack their main themes in well-done ways: Harry Potter is a great example of this. The closest a character comes to embodying the themes of the story (grief and love and choice) is Dumbledore, and he’s unpacked in the final story to the extent a hopeful children’s story should.
What is Monster’s thesis? All lives have value.
What is SnK’s thesis? The world is cruel, but the world is also beautiful.
What is BNHA’s? A hero saves.
I think it’s impossible to argue that Tenma, Mikasa, and Deku don’t embody these messages in every moment of their arcs. The thing is, while most stories aren’t deconstructions, you still have to explore and unpack and challenge the character to make the theme stand out, to convince the reader of your theme.
Monster story opens with Tenma literally being challenged on this very principle. The hospital’s top neurosurgeon, Tenma chooses to save a famous singer over a poor immigrant despite the immigrant coming to the hospital first and is confronted by the immigrant’s devastated family. Tenma then makes the opposite choice and saves a little boy over a mayor because the boy arrived first, even though the hospital orders him to prioritize the mayor. Thus, the very first chapter gives Tenma a consequence for not following his theme, and he corrects it--but this doesn’t result in a simple “everyone matters, duh.” Because that boy he saves grows up to be a serial killer, and Tenma becomes determined to stop him--even if it costs him his life and morality. Tenma himself wonders and even at times throws away his belief that all lives have value, wondering if Johan has forfeited his right to live because if they don’t execute Johan, will he ever stop?
However, by the end of the story, Tenma goes through such a journey to understand Johan that he does indeed come to believe Johan’s life has equal value despite his crimes, and proves it by saving Johan’s life yet again in order to also save the person who tried to kill Johan (and who would then potentially lose his life in punishment). The story truly unpacks what this theme means, and why people believe it or don’t, and does so without condemning those who don’t agree.
Mikasa is also challenged constantly. She finds moments of beauty in the middle of cruelty, like Eren wrapping the scarf around her. That moment motivates her because it showed her there was still connection, humanity, warmth, and kindness. Even when she’s relegated to the background, Mikasa is constantly challenged on her belief in cruelty and beauty and even loses sight of it at times because she puts too much of her hope/belief in beauty on one person. In the end she expands it to absolutely everyone, the entire world, including Eren. She refuses to deny her love for him, refuses to forget him as he requests, but also refuses to sacrifice the world for him.
Do you notice a common thread between Tenma and Mikasa? It’s that your convictions matter so much as you are able to hold yourself to them, even when it costs you. Even to go back to Harry Potter, Dumbledore loses a lot of respect for his past actions, and Harry has to die. The themes are unpacked because their statements, the themes they embody, are not magical elixirs that fix their worlds.
So, Deku. He embodies heroes save, and I don’t doubt he will succeed. But... he’s had this perspective from the first chapter and it’s not really been unpacked--the closest it came is during the War Arc, when Deku vowed to never forgive Shigaraki after he almost killed Gran Torino. But then Gran Torino is... fine. So it would be far more compelling writing if Shigaraki had actually killed Gran Torino or kills All Might because then Deku has actually something to lose; he would have something personal that he’d have to surrender to stand for this theme, to reinforce the theme. It’s easy to spout about saving everyone, but what about when that person is a murderer not just of randos, but of someone you adored? This would unlock layers of complexity in Deku that we just have never seen. Now, it's possible BNHA will unpack this more towards the end (I think it will, and I do think Deku will feel like he can’t save at some point) but it's honestly too little too late to save Deku’s writing on the whole for me.
This is also for me why I find the Dabi/Shouto conflict more compelling even if Shigaraki is by far the best written character in the manga: because there are direct personal stakes not just for the characters but for the audience (since we know the characters affected), whereas Deku and Shigaraki’s conflict is currently symbolic and hypothetical. Shigaraki is a mass murderer, but not of anyone Deku knows. He hurt Gran Torino, but GT seems to be recovering just fine. He endangered the lives of Deku’s friends, sure, but they’re all fine. There are no long-lasting consequences to anything Shigaraki has done that actually affect Deku’s daily life, nor our perception.
Also think of the criticism of villain stans in BNHA--that they don’t care about the randos who have been killed and who we’ve like, never seen a panel of. If the characters experience the pain of that loss, it makes the manga’s message that much more resonant and empathetic, rather than preachy. Monster did this with Tenma: he lost so much along his journey, and SnK did this with Mikasa: she lost Eren. It’s just more like... cold preaching in BNHA. That said, the good thing about BNHA, and the reason I follow and like it, is that it does seem to know what it wants to say even if it is messy about it. When a story has no idea what it wants to say, woof.
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A Theory About the Saint of Duty
[HTN/TLT SPOILERS]
Hey TLT people--
There was a reddit thread about the Saint of Duty the other day (link), and I commented some G1deon thoughts of mine that’ve been brewing in my head for a while. I figured I’d bring them to the tumblr tag to open up some discussion and see if anyone else buys this theory, or honestly just to spread some G1deon love. (I imprint on minor characters; it’s a curse.)
This is more or less copied from my reddit comment word-for-word, but here’s some general thought on Gideon the First’s personality, and why I have a theory that he might’ve lobotomized himself like Harrow:
G1deon character thoughts
G1deon as we know him in HtN is likely very different from the man he must've been 10,000 years ago. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he changed significantly between the start of the Wake affair and the events of book 2.
More so than any of the other Lyctors, Gideon and Pyrrha seemed to have had this strong synergy going on. Unlike most necros, Gideon is a buff beef jerky man, and we see two rapiers in G&P's room. The winnowing/construct trial is also referred to as "Pyrrha's trial," which has always struck me as a curious detail and suggests to me that Pyrrha knew more about necromancy than cavs generally do. We know that the saintly epithets refer to the cavs, in general, but I don't think that was exactly the case for G&P; based on the previously stated, I believe they were both equally dutiful people, willing to throw themselves into each other's studies and share each other's skills.
Aug and Mercy were forced to rush their Lyctorization process because of their reckless cavs, and G1deon was next, but the fact that Pyrrha compartmentalized suggests they were closer to figuring it out than Aug and Mercy were--which I think is greatly due to the harmony of their relationship.
We know from what the other Lyctors & John have said that Gid loved and respected Pyrrha deeply. I wouldn't be surprised if the ferocity with which he threw himself into his saintly work over the 10,000 years emerged--at least partially, if not primarily--from his devotion to her. There's Pyrrha, the most spectacular cav and an all-around badass, and Gideon--having taken her to fuel his ascension--acting as John's attack dog with an intensity that would make her sacrifice worthwhile.
It's difficult to gauge how much Gideon actually enjoyed any of this; John seems to think he did, but I wouldn’t trust John for shit, and I'm sure John's understanding of G1d is heavily skewed in his own favor.
I think it's also important to consider Pyrrha's side of this story as it relates to G1deon’s current state, as well as the Wake affair. Her actions raise several questions. First of all, how long did it take for her to realize that she could take control of his body? How exactly did it happen, the first time? And how aware is Gideon? Does he have any inkling at all? Is there something more to his forgetfulness, something purposeful?
I have to imagine that in any case, Pyrrha must have gone through a lot over those 10,000 years. 10,000 years of odd sensory deprivation, which was probably hell for a fiery badass like P. 10,000 years of watching Gideon put up with John's bullshit, of watching the other Lyctors die off one-by-one and accumulate a host of mental, physical, and emotional scars. I'm convinced that Pyrrha's relationship with "duty" changed over the course of the years as she watched from this disembodied perspective, and that her "treachery" against John (her affair with Wake & possibly feeding intel to the BoE) was just a natural progression of that change.
When Wake factors in, I'd bet good money that the driving factor in both Pyrrha and Gideon's attraction to her is that she reminds them both of Pyrrha. Hell, Pyrrha even says this outright: "She was the most dangerous woman I'd ever met who wasn't me." I imagine that P's attraction to Wake, beyond this cool display of cockiness, also emerged from a sort of nostalgia--maybe Wake reminds her of what life used to be when she had a body, when she could fight and command, when she had a cause to occupy her energy. On G1d's side, he sees a woman who's dedicated and dutiful, even if it's for an enemy faction, and a woman who would undeniably make one hell of a cavalier (I think someone says this in HtN, although I'm forgetting who, so correct me if I’m wrong). I'm sure there's nostalgia in it for him, too.
Then, there's elephant in the room: Wake's fiery red hair and Pyrrha's name, meaning "flame-colored." I'm convinced that at least some of the similarities were physical. And at the bottom of it all is the inherent sexiness of finding a worthy opponent who's also hot. Lol.
Gideon Prime Lobotomy Time(?)
Here's where things get squirrelly for me, and the main reason why I have a theory that G1d's current state might be partially self-inflicted.
G&P were having discrete affairs with Wake, which inherently brings up logistical questions. First of all, how? And how exactly did Wake come to "kiss" Gideon "before she realized what they were?" How long were the durations of time in which Pyrrha kept his body under her control? In any case, after Wake & Gideon initiated their leg of the affair, it continued throughout the two years up until Gideon Jr.'s birth, which implies that Gideon Prime had some agency and willfulness in all of it. It's difficult to imagine the permanently-spaced-out-thousand-yard-stare man we know in HtN actively participating in such an entanglement.
Of course, I’ll acknowledge that it's entirely possible that I'm wrong, and that Wake just jumps his bones when she feels like it, and he's like "ok I guess," so take this as you will; but I'd like to put forth the suggestion that G1d's memory loss and overall lack of lucidity might be self-inflicted, to the tune of Harrow's lobotomy. We don't know how aware Gideon is of Pyrrha's presence, but it does seem to be the case that Lyctors having an awareness of the cav is dangerous for the cav. Being an accomplished necromancer, I'm sure Gideon was/is a smart man. Pyrrha mentions that she was "able to go underground" from him, but what if Gideon started to catch on to Pyrrha's presence through the double-affair? What if Wake let something slip? What if the thing that Wake didn't realize about them was the fact that Pyrrha's survival depends on Gideon's lack of awareness?
What if he lobotomized himself at some point, after catching onto Pyrrha's presence, at the expense of his sanity?
What really strikes me is the post-incinerator scene (HtN ch.31, pg. 292 in the hardcover):
The Saint of Duty turned his body toward you. He was clutching his rapier; but it was idle ... His eyebrows were very slightly drawn together, a sort of exhausted crinkle. He looked at you, and he said in a voice you had known since you were eight years old: "I sometimes--forget."
It was the tone--clinical, enamelled, half-defensive, half-endangered--the tone of someone admitting a final fraily. It was familiar because you had used it yourself. Understand I am insane.
It's his quiet resolution that does it for me; he knows something's missing, and he's accepted it. He's being set up as a parallel to Harrow in this particular moment, and it just makes me wonder if the parallel goes beyond his understanding of his own “insanity” and extends to the means by which he has become "insane."
Pyrrha's already being set up as a parallel to Gideon Jr., both in terms of her formerly-skewed sense of duty and her compartmentalization, so I think this sort of dual-parallel between G1d and Harrow would work nicely, if only from a meta perspective.
In short, I think Gideon the First's feelings on everything that happened are complex, fraught. I think "duty" is what defined much of his personality, and I think what we see of him now is the result of split senses of duty having torn him apart:
he's torn between his devotion to Pyrrha (and by extension, ironically, his devotion to John) and his interest in (and perhaps love for) Wake;
torn between John's command to kill Harrow and whatever it is that caused him to pull punches (I'm guessing a combination of basic decency and solidarity); and
at the end of it all, he's quietly accepting of his own "frailty," understanding that the current situation is the shitty result of everything that's happened over the past myriad, and that there's likely no way to set himself straight, even though his shortcomings put him in direct conflict with the man he's "supposed to be," according to this awful religion, and according to what others think of him.
Anyway, for those who’ve stuck around, that’s all I have to say for now! I’m just so fascinated by the Saint of Duty/the Pyrwakeon story that’s going on behind the scenes; there’s such an understated intensity to it, and honestly, it didn’t even hit me until months after my first read-through.
I’m curious to hear what other people are thinking, too!
#the locked tomb spoilers#harrow the ninth#htn spoilers#harrow the ninth spoilers#I have Feelings about G1d#and I want to spread them#and it makes me Sad when people dunk on that beef jerky shrinkwrap man#lol#don't even get me started on how devastated I am that he died off-screen
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Touma and Tsurugi
Aight, so. I have had this post sitting in my drafts for AGES, contemplating whether I should even post it or not, and... I think I will.
Time to talk a bit about what is probably the most controversial character in Servamp, outside of a certain yippee ki-yay motherfucker. I’m partially writing this as part of my own means of moving forward, so forgive me if this seems disjointed or spacey. Unlike my other posts, which are written in one sitting, this one’s going to be strewn together over the course of multiple days. Formatting might be a little wonky too because of that, especially since I haven’t been feeling at 100% these last few days.
Anyway! Let’s hop into it! In usual Kat format, this probably won’t make much sense! Preemptive warning for all the usual stuff that comes parcel and package with Touma and Tsurugi. Child abuse, neglect, PTSD, you know. All that... Fun stuff... Not all of these are mentioned or even implied but... Yeah. Just in case. Under the cut because it is Very Long.
Gonna also preface this by saying that I am not, by any means, excusing Touma’s actions or behavior. I’m taking him to task today and tearing the dude apart because he’s such a well crafted depiction of how abusers can love the people they hurt, and how they can be sympathetic because they are human, while still being awful, and I want more people to appreciate that. You don’t have to like him by any means. Lord knows I don’t.
But it’s also disingenuous to write him off as a villain hellbent on hurting others for the sake of hurting, especially when that’s exactly what he wants people to think of him.
Touma’s cruelty and his stubborn refusal to rely on anyone but himself is absolutely a defense mechanism meant to protect himself from those with seemingly kind intentions. The man grew up in an incredibly abusive household, where physical and emotional abuse was the norm. Like a hedgehog, he spikes himself up, lashes out at those around him with his words, digging into any weak point he can manage to find because if he doesn’t let anyone in, if he keeps the curtains closed shut, he will be safe, he will be safe, no one will ever have the power to hurt him again.
Like, no healthy person acts like that. He wants people to think he’s vile. He wants people to hate him. He’s, in his own words, “a villain with a pedigree.”
And then there’s his relationship with Tsurugi, and how that plays out. Despite how awfully he’s been treated, Tsurugi... Wants to stay with him. Not because he can’t imagine any other way of existing. Oh, he knows it’s there. He can leave any time he wants to. If he gave even the slightest of inklings that he wanted out from under Touma’s thumb... Junichiro and Yumikage would grab him and go. We even see Yumi offer within canon to pay off all of Tsurugi’s debts, which are... The thing tying him to Touma the most, from an outsider’s perspective.
He wants to stay because... Touma is his family. Because if he’s a godawful person who abused the hell out of him... He’s still his savior and someone he cares for deeply. Even when, by all rights, he’d be better off kicking him to the curb.
Truth be told, back when we all thought Touma was dead, I was actually really disappointed in that particular story decision. It seemed like such a copout way to deal with him as a character! Like, having the abuser sacrifice their life to save their victim as one final act of grand redemption and proof that they were a “good person” all along... Fuck off with that! I want Touma to live. I want him to live and grow and become better than he was, but to always know, in the back of his mind, what he has done and who he has hurt and how he made someone he loves suffer.
And I’m glad that we’ve already seen a tiny glimpse of change in him, when he removes Tsurugi’s collar. He sets him free. And that made me so happy.
Going to get a little Too Real with y’all right now, but I... Spent the majority of my formative years in an abusive home. I’ll spare you the details, but my mother and step-father were not... Good people. I met with my mother again when I was 13, and I was ecstatic, because that’s my mom! She was my mom, and I loved her. Less than a year later, though... She vanished. Promised she would only be gone for a year and then... Nothing.
I was fine with that. I was hurt, but I could live with it, because she had already abandoned me before. What I couldn’t forgive, though, what I couldn’t overlook, was her doing that to my little sister. At least, I thought I couldn’t... If I’m honest with myself? I know that, if she ever came back into my life, I’d hug her neck and cry and tell her how much I missed her, and beg her not to leave again.
The story of Touma and Tsurugi... Is one that resonates with me on a very deep, very personal level.
I want Tsurugi to get the happy ending, and the happy family, I know will never be available to me in the form I want it to be.
I want Touma to grow, and to heal, and to overcome the hand life has dealt him and that he felt he had no other choice but to play with.
I could have easily become someone like Touma. Instead I am like Tsurugi, because I had people who loved me and wanted me to thrive despite my circumstances.
I talk a lot about this series, go so in depth with it and its characters, love it and this fandom and the people I have met through it so much because it... Has helped me grow, and it has helped me heal.
Which is fantastic! Because Servamp, at its core, is a story of healing. Of learning to let go of the past and move on towards a brighter future. It doesn't mean you have to forget where you came from... Just that your past doesn’t define you. There's always time to change.
Not even just with Touma and Tsurugi.
With Shuuhei and Sham. With Lust pair. With Lawless. With Kuro. With Sakuya. Even... With Mahiru. Every single time... There's something in their past holding them down and hurting them so terribly... And they can't grow as a person until they deal with it.
Servamp has helped me deal with mine. Thank you so much, everyone.
#kat's katerwauling#servamp#Touma Taishi#tsurugi kamiya#taishi touma#kamiya tsurugi#servamp meta#just a lil tho#just a bit#vent-ish?#kat's meow#this got very personal towards the end and i apologize for that
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