#I need to see this man in Situations™

[toast-x-butter]

happy Ford Gets Held Down Day to yall @candycatfalls

I was a few days early with this one, I didnt know an international holiday was coming up ahh <3

// red

[bithegai]

kinda fascinated by ren being a chronic overthinker but also overlooking rlly basic elements of his plans. like “oh i don’t want to weird out my neighbors :/ “ but also fully prepared to show up randomly with giant shears? or (rightfully) worrying about eating 2 years expired chocolate but never considering maybe- SPIT IT OUT?!??!!

[theladysunami]

I adore all the AUs where Shen Yuan is a shixiong or about Binghe’s age but you know what the fandom is missing? Shidi Shen Yuan!

There are some stories where Shen Yuan is younger and Shen Jiu’s son, but I’m talking about a regular disciple Shen Yuan admitted to Qing Jing peak after Luo Binghe.

I just need tiny child Shen Yuan using the full force of his spite to feud with the strategist Peak Lord… only to actually win most of the time!

How could Shen Yuan possibly win against a paranoid sect strategist you might ask?

First, he could take full advantage of Shen Qingqiu’s complete disinterest in him, and his own disinterest in impressing Shen Qingqiu, to run rampant for quite a while before Shen Qingqiu catches on. He would seem to be just some stupid precocious child.

Second, I firmly believe Shen Yuan’s wifebeam, when directed at adults, could be an effective parentbeam. He could use all the little tidbits he has memorized about the other peak lords, the Qing Jing hall masters, the servants, and his fellow disciples, along with his genuine kindness and helpfulness (and a lack of Shen Qingqiu sabotage…at least to start with) to endear himself to a great many of them!

Third, he has the advantage of an adult’s brain in his child body, along with all sorts of knowledge nobody would reasonably suspect a child his age to have. Just because Shen Yuan has a giant blind spot regarding romantic intent and his importance to others, doesn’t mean he isn’t incredibly clever in many other ways, and fully capable of using the full force of that cleverness on Binghe’s behalf!

Fourth, Shen Qingqiu would have literally no clue what the kid was actually after. All that work just to make the life of Shen Qingqiu’s least favorite student a little bit better? Shen Qingqiu would never see it coming, and what is that if not the greatest weakness of all?

I just really want Shen Qingqiu, the man who starts feuds with children —including trying to murder one particular kid— to find out that his arch enemy is actually some other kid that he completely ignored. And the kid is winning via the secret tactics of “being nice” and “having no real ulterior motives (beyond the ‘being nice’ thing)”.

Also, Luo Binghe being protective of his little shidi who is somehow constantly getting himself in situations™. (It’s not Shen Yuan’s fault distraction is often his best ‘stop bullying Binghe’ technique).

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

Hii!! Can I ask the headcanons how characters from mouthwashing will be jelous?? I really wanna read about Jimmy (SORRY..IM TOO NERVOUS TO POST THIS FROM MY ACCOUNT. And sorry for my English xd)

❥YOU'RE JEALOUS? OH MY!~

♡ Jealous! Mouthwashing Crew [ hcs ]

synopsis: you were talking to a friend,and your partner thought that you both were a bit too into the conversation.

Captain, Curly

Curly is not a jealous man.

he is very secure in the relationship,and trusts you enough to know that being jealous of such trivial situations was just foolish.

he thought being jealous was something beneath him.

But seeing you so intertwined in this little conversation was starting to prick your boyfriend.

He doesn't confront anyone, nor does he make a scene.

He just swiftly comes,puts his hand around your waist,and joins in on the conversation.

"my,what are you guys talking about so intently?".

after the friend is gone,he doesn't really bring it up. just his grasp on you is firm throughout the day.

If it's a colleague from pony express he might speak to the higher ups...who knows...

Jimmy

Jimmy is extremely insecure in the relationship,he is already always on the edge of anyone stealing you away from him.

He just can't help himself, he's lucky enough to have bagged a baddie,so he doesn't intent upon letting anyone ruin the relationship.

so seeing you talking to your friend with such enthusiasm,made him feel as though he was being stabbed with an axe repeatedly.

He was quick to be at your side, literally snatch you by the waist,and just stared intensely at your friend,to the point that they got so uncomfortable that they just said bye and left.

it didn't stop there tho,he kept on pestering you about who that friend was,why were you so close with them and were you planning on leaving him.

says that he doesn't want you speaking to that friend ever again.

"you don't need to go around giving everyone attention".

Anya

Anya is herself a very shy individual,she doesn't really like confronting people about such silly things.

But it doesn't mean that she doesn't get jealous. Because she does. Quite often, actually.

she dislikes seeing you pay too much attention to anyone that isn't her,she knows it's not good or logical to have such thoughts but she just can't help it.

seeing you talk to that friend of yours made her so jealous that she just went silent.

after you finished talking you noticed that your girlfriend seemed more down than usual.

She didn't talk, or even looked at you for that matter.

You quickly realised that had happened and immediately peppered her face with smooches.

"silly girl,you really think I'm ever gonna leave you?". You say to her.

She just blushes and hides her face in your chest.

Swansea

Swansea rarely gets jealous. Emphasis on 'rarely' coz he never does.

he thinks it's literally pointless to get jealous,he's wayy past that age.

but if he ever does,he just asks you.

"aren't ya gettin' a bit too chummy wit that friend of yours?"

once you reassure him,he doesn't really push on after that.

Daisuke

Pouty face™

acts like a 13 year old whenever he gets jealous.

when he sees you talking with your friend, he'll literally just go and hold your hand and stare daggers into the friend.

"Y/N WHO TF IS THIS MANZ??!?!?".

you literally have to spend hours trying to reassure him.

is kind of bratty about it,but you don't mind. :)

[batmen-and-birds]

I can image the Justice League fighting some sorcerer one day and during the fight Batman gets hit with some spell

There the big smoke cloud and in the rubble you see two figures. Batman and Brucie. The sorcerer was made all masks into different identities to create a distraction but also to reveal the Batman's civilian ID to the world. Fortunately that didn't work, since Superman threw his cape over Brucie before anyone could see and Batman (now Distilled Vengeance™) just beat the daylight out of the guy.

Back at the Watchtower Zatanna takes a good look at the pair and thankfully knows just the spell to put them back together. The problem is that all identities need to be present and WANT to fuse back together. Batman and Brucie do NOT want to fuse back.

Batman, because he sees Brucie as everything he hates about high society and honestly, thinks he is far more off without having to waste time doing the whole playboy billionaire schtick.

Brucie is in quite a similar situation. He'd truly rather go and have fun than to be bound to the guy who keeps breaking his/their bones. And even so, Bruce(the whole) always had a ridiculous amount of self loathing, it's no surprise that the isolated parts of the guy would fight each other on sight.

Anyway, the Leagues and the Batfam let them have their spats for a day or two. At first it was pretty funny to see how differently the two personas are but now they can't stand either one of them anymore.

The Bat is too serious, patrols are a nightmare for the kids and the League have never missed Bruce's dry sense of humor and subtle care more than now. And Brucie while far more emotionally adept than before, doesn't have the fatherly and calm side in him either and is so cheerful and relaxed that it gives everyone the creeps.

Long story short is that they all finally convince the two to fuse back. But when Zatanna is about to do her thing it somehow malfunctions and Brucie and Bat's start fighting again. During that Batman insults Brucie's intelligent which escalates the entire thing

"How could you know I'm stupid? I You never spend time with me, or anyone for that matter, since no one can stand being near you!", is Brucie's response, because he's had enough of the man who won't even take off the cowl now since he sees no need for it.

"The reason I know you are that mentally deprived is because you were MADE to be so. You only exist because of me.", which is kinda true and they both know it. They both also know that he said it just to be hurtful.

Which is why Brucie responds with, "If I'm really that stupid then how come I'm the only one that noticed that both Matches and B are missing for the spell to work!"

...

And that is how Brucie and Batman have to work together to find a Matches Malone who's more knowledgeable than Batman when it comes to navigating the underground and a mysterious 'B', who is apparently made out of all the moments between the masks and outside of them.

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Sanemi Shinazugawa General Profile

Yandere! Sanemi Shinazugawa x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, violence/mild gore, Sanemi controls your diet/comments on what you eat, mentions of physical and sexual assault (not by Sanemi though because he is Consent King™), my characterization of Sanemi is a little unusual I think but I stand by it, part of that characterization involves him being very sexually frustrated so mentions of masturbation, Stockholm Syndrome, mentions of reader being insecure/having low self esteem, kind of mind-break ish for reader, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 13K

DARLING PROFILE:

Honest 

To Sanemi, there is nothing more worthless than liars - with the exception, possibly, of demons. He doesn’t understand why one would skate around the truth, and in his eyes it’s a sign of weakness, of an unwillingness to face reality and to cheat themselves.

Needless to say, he wouldn’t tolerate a partner who is prone to lying, who lets falsities slip from their lips like it’s nothing. He wants to know that his partner won’t front anything, that each word and phrase that they speak is nothing but how they feel, their honest thoughts and feelings.

Trust means a lot to him, and because it’s so difficult for him to fully open up, to allow himself to becomes vulnerable, he’s quite selective with who he lest see the real Sanemi Shinazugawa, the real man who wants nothing more than for the ones he loves to be safe and happy.

He needs a darling who won’t bullshit him, who can hold his respect and take a slight weight off his shoulders by knowing that they won’t ever lie to him.

It doesn’t mean his paranoia diminishes in any sense of the word, but the sentiment is still nice - it’s pleasing to him that when his darling is finally giving in and telling him in a defeated, resigned voice that they love him too, when he’s forcing out a compliment that sounded wonderful in his head but strange once it passed him that the small smile and soft ‘thanks’ they give is real.

He needs to comfort of knowing that his darling is authentic, that they’re showing their real selves to him, and with each glimpse he sees he only falls more and more in love. 

Opinionated

There is no doubt that Sanemi works tirelessly to be as powerful as he can, that it’s his sole drive in life to kill and defeat demons. He’s a man fueled by adrenaline and hate for the man-eating creatures, and he desires a darling who is similarly motivated.

His darling doesn’t need to have a tragic past or anything of the sort, but he appreciates someone who is somewhat of a spitfire.

He likes women who can challenge him, and if his darling is able to keep up with him and even occasionally be better than him at something, it’s a sure fire way for him to grow interested.

He loves the idea of his darling being capable and independent (ironic, considering the way he grows to coddle his darling and let his overprotectiveness convince him that they’re utterly helpless without him), and a darling who’s able to showcase this personality trait gets him ever so slightly flustered.

He likes someone who can stand up to him, who doesn’t let him boss them around, and while he’ll want them to be complacent and listen to him once he has a more solidified role in their life, there’s something so incredibly attractive about them having their own mind and opinion.

He may act like it irritates him at first, butting heads with his darling and even occasionally complaining about how headstrong they are, but it’s one of the very first things that catches Sanemi’s attention and keeps it.

(That and, of course, the color of their eyes, the sway of their hips, the lilt of their voice, and myriad other qualities that make him gape like some lovesick school boy. Pathetic.)

Kind

On the flip side, Sanemi is also wildly attracted to a darling who is a truly kind person.

They can be opinionated, hardheaded, competitive, any number of things that leave them labeled as a strong personality, but it’s in the moments where Sanemi sees how truly compassionate they are that his feelings really become cemented.

He’s had to bury his own compassion and empathy down over the years, hardening his shell and playing into the character so well that it’s become essentially his real self, and to see his darling able to be so kind and loving to the people around them makes him wildly flustered and jealous.

It reminds him of his old self, and while that brings its own heavy baggage, there’s something freeing and so very calming about it, like some long lost puzzle piece is slotting into place because it just feels right.

And when his darling turns that kindness onto him, Sanemi’s genuinely at a loss for words. The first time they scold him for getting injured and help tend to his wounds, he’s already putty in their hands. He’s momentarily struck silent when his darling presents to him a small gift from a nearby market, the gift itself meager and not something Sanemi particularly wants, but there’s something about the gesture that gets his heart racing, flattered and unsure why they’d be giving someone like him something.

It’s a quality that he subconsciously looks for, and though he’d never admit it, it’s difficult for him to not notice just how kind his darling would be in the context of motherhood. They’d be great with children, he’s sure, and while he doesn’t want to bring any children into the world while it's still crawling with demons, he’s nursing the quiet, embarrassed dream of his darling carrying his children and heading a loving, large family.

It’s the stuff of his fantasies, the kind of thing that makes him flush and get irritated at sappy at is, but with each kind gesture and compliment, his darling only makes it harder and harder to not dream of it.

Brave

On many levels, to become a person Sanemi respects you’d have to be brave. He simply doesn’t tolerate those who are weak-willed or meek, and a darling who’s more willing to put themselves out there or stand up for others is extremely attractive to him.

His darling doesn’t need to be a risk-taker, but he appreciates someone is willing to go outside of their comfort zone every once in a while. This is especially true when it comes to interacting with him. His tough demeaner scares most people off, so his darling would need to be willing to tough it out and stand up to him in order to dig past his rough exterior and get at the soft, vulnerable side of him.

It makes him proud, really, when his darling does something that he deems brave or difficult for them. It fills him with a sense of accomplishment, feeling genuinely happy for them because he’s so very proud when they achieve even basic things.

He's extremely observant and picks up on even minute aspects of his darling’s personality, and so he’s very in touch with what’s within his darling’s comfort zone and what isn’t.

This trait is by and large a positive for him, however there are times when it becomes the bane of his existence; if they do something he deems stupid or unnecessary and puts them in danger he becomes very, very angry. He’s paranoid in every sense of the word, terrified that his darling will die or somehow disappear, leaving him behind to be all alone, losing just another person he’s come to love.

(Though, love is perhaps not quite the word for it – needs, maybe, or even adores, just with a sense of finality that scares even Sanemi.) His darling’s braveness is a double-edged sword, and once they’re under his lock and key, he’s trying to cut down on their ability to act on this as much as possible, not only for their safety but also his sanity.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS: 

Protective

As a general rule, Sanemi’s expression of his feelings towards you is rather indirect. He’ll never outright confess that he’s in love with you until very, very late into his obsession, and by that time you’ll have already been trapped by his side for at least a few months, already uncomfortably aware that he feels something for you, even if he won’t put a name on it.

He’s not traditionally romantic in any sense, and while he does harbor fantasies about being all soft and mushy with you, he can’t seem to allow himself to act on these desires, particularly towards the beginning of his infatuation.

(He’ll spend his nights laying awake, staring at the ceiling while his fingers trace patterns against the scars on his chest, imagining they’re your own softer, prettier hands, that you’re laying beside him and lulling him to sleep with your touch and soft voice, that you’re telling him that you love him and that you feel so safe with you, Sanemi. Idly, he wonders whether you’re put off by the scars – you’ve never mentioned it, sure, but Sanemi isn’t stupid. He knows you’re too nice and perhaps too intimidated by him, but he still bites his lip and wonders whether you wouldn’t mind them, if you’d like them, if you’d be attracted to them, even… And suddenly his fingers feel like fire because now he’s imagining how it would feel to have your lips trail the scarred skin instead and oh god-)

He’s not particularly overt with many aspects of his obsession, with a few stark exceptions – namely, Sanemi is very, very overprotective of you. Call it a result of a traumatic childhood and adult life or perhaps even a coping mechanism, but once his feelings for you begin to fester, your safety becomes his number one priority.

And really, isn’t it understandable?

Seeing humans get slaughtered on a daily basis constantly reminds him that you’re weak. Sure, he’s a Hashira and risks his life with every breath, but you’re you. You’re painfully unprepared to handle a confrontation with a demon, and with each new violent, gory death he sees, Sanemi becomes more and more aware of this.

It’s maddening, really, because he’ll be out on a mission and be just a hair too late to save some poor civilian woman and oh, her hair color is so very similar to yours – from a distance it almost looks like you. Your faces aren’t similar, though, and as Sanemi runs past the fresh corpse in pursuit of the monster, he’s breathing a sigh of relief because for the smallest, briefest moment he was almost convinced that that was you.

And later that night, as he sits down alone in his quiet, empty mansion, every blink of his eyes is flashing an image of you in her position, scarlet blood staining your skin and tears drying against your cheeks. It makes him grit his teeth, pacing around the room and clutching onto his sword hilt, muttering under his breath about how you’re driving him crazy and this shit needs to stop, I have to stop, this has to stop…

But he still finds himself dashing off to the modest room you call home, anger flaring when he notices you’ve left your window open, mentally berating you and promising to sternly remind you tomorrow to not be so careless.

Wide eyes peer into your bedroom to catch sight of you peacefully sleeping, and he sucks in a breath at the sight. You’re just so pretty – all soft and warm in your bed, lips parted ever so slightly, the slope of your nose catching his eye, the slow rise and fall of your chest.

(He’ll stop to match his own breathing with yours, palm pressing against the glass of the window, unable to stop staring even as he calls himself pathetic and a creep for watching you sleep. It’s just calming in a way he can’t describe, and when he finally forces himself to move some thirty minutes later, the cycle only restarts as he steps foot back in his home.)

His anxiety that you’re unable to protect yourself manifests pretty early into his obsession – and you’ll notice, too. He’s unusually concerned with all aspects of your health and safety – he’s always asking when you’ve last eaten, what you had, if you’re still hungry, when you last had protein or a vegetable or drank water. And while he’s trying to be as civil and nonchalant as he can manage, he’s still staring, looming over you and looking at you with an intensity that makes you feel so very small, your answer more of a question than an answer.

And if he doesn’t like the answer, you’re being dragged to his own personal kitchen, all the while he’s grumbling about how you’re so irresponsible, can’t even feed yourself on your own, meanwhile he’s already boiling water and cutting vegetables, having forced you to sit on the most plush cushion he owns.

And you will be eating everything he feeds you – when you seem hesitant, he's threatening with a disturbingly serious I won’t let you leave until that tray is clean, the calmness and sincerity in his voice driving you to immediately pick up your utensils.

Typically, his cooking isn’t bad – perhaps ever so slightly charred, but it’s cooked to your tastes and preferences (though he never explicitly asked about them), and he’s always looking at you while you dine, those wide eyes of his never seeming to blink as he surveys every possible detail about you.

(Really, he’s doing two things – firstly, he’s obsessively checking over every aspect of your eating habits. How many times do you chew before you swallow? Which foods do you start eating first, and do you eat section by section or a little bit of everything? Do you blow on your foods if they’re too hot, your pretty lips puckering into a cute little ‘o’ that makes him suck in a breath? But even aside from that he’s staring, transfixed, because just last night he was dining alone at this table, solemnly chewing at his food while imagining your presence beside him, fantasizing about the day when you’re eating together, perhaps even swapping stories of the day or complimenting him or telling him that you look so handsome today Sanemi, it’s kind of pissing me off… Just the thought makes him sit up straighter, unconsciously puffing out his chest because he wants you to be very, very aware of the muscles lining every inch of his body.)

And even aside from food, his protectiveness is apparent in the way he treats you – he’s always quickly gazing over your body, checking for any signs of cuts, scrapes, bruises, or limps, the surveying genuinely clinical rather than perverse.

(Of course, later that night he’ll remember the details with a slightly lewder twist – wondering how soft your thighs must be and letting his hands flex into a fist in an effort to grab onto something, even though it can’t be you. He’s imagining exactly how those nipples of yours must look like, imagining in detail the way they’d look all pebbled, the skin soft and warm and god, he bets you’d taste sweet, like some sort of heaven.)

He’s refusing to leave your side when you walk into town, always trailing at your arm and constantly glowering at the people around you, his excuse something related to checking for demon activity in the crowd – you don’t mention that it’s daytime.

(He’s always raising a brow when men approach you, rage simmering just below the surface alongside an underlying sense of anxiety and insecurity because while he may be the most capable of protecting you, the kinder, gentler man that calls you beautiful at the small morning market may be more capable of winning your heart. And so, when they get too close, he’s quick to place himself between the two of you, a scowl on his face and his tone a mix of condescension and threatening when he tells him to get lost, one more step and I slice your arm off. It’s protection, sure, because who knows what these men could want from you, but the small, possessive part of him is smug when the man scurries off, his worries momentarily quelled because you’re still next to him, not that stranger.)

He’s pessimistic about people by nature, always assuming the worst, and so Sanemi accompanies you every free moment he possibly can, acting as your shadow and impossible to get away from. It’s irritating, really, because even if you fight and bicker with him about it, requesting that he please leave you alone because it scares you to have him hanging off of you like that, he’ll only resort to following you from a few meters behind, blending in with the crowd but still keeping those eyes on you, hand always tightly clutched around the hilt of his sword just in case your safety is threatened.

He knows it’s stalking, sure, and he reprimands himself for his weakness and inability to control himself, but the moment you’re out of his sight panic is racing through him, his breathing getting shallow and his skin feeling hot because fuck fuck fuck this isn’t happening, you’re not gone you can’t be gone please oh god where are you –

He’s running as quickly as he can to check behind every corner, desperation to find you so potent that it bars him from feeling embarrassed, only calming once he finds you. He’ll grasp onto your shoulders once he does, his grip nearly bruising as he demands to know where you’ve been, practically yelling at you to tell him if you’re hurt, if anyone bothered you, if you’ve been attacked or if you’re scared.

It’s only when you wince or beg him to back off that he does, freezing up and letting his mouth fall open stupidly, before suddenly jumping back as if touching you pains him, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, disappointment and anger in himself for injuring you rolling through him.

He treats you like you’re delicate, fragile, breakable, and no matter how often you tell him – and prove to him – that you’re not, Sanemi refuses to acknowledge it.

After all, you needing protection gives him purpose. It gives him justification to be around you, to be allowed in your presence – it makes him think he might, just maybe, be worthy of your love. And no matter how pathetic it makes him feel to admit it, Sanemi would do absolutely anything to get you looking at him and needing him like he needs you.

Anything.

Possessive

And it’s palpable. Sanemi is many things, but subtle is not one of them – and while he may be decent at masking many aspects of his obsession with you, his possessive side is certainly not one of them.

He’s easily jealous, always suspecting the worst of people that approach you. The man that comes up to ask you for directions obviously has an ulterior motive, perhaps wanting to ogle you or get just a hair too close to your body for Sanemi’s comfort.

The older man that accidentally bumps into you as he walks with his cane may seem innocent, but Sanemi’s immediately scowling, eyeing the man like a hawk because many old men seem to feel much too entitled and much too confident in bothering younger, attractive women, and he’ll be damned before he lets some old creep harass you.

(A bit hypocritical, all things considered, because while Sanemi may be your age, he’s significantly more of a creep – the way he’s constantly following you, constantly thinking of you, imagining your smile and your laugh and of what he’s sure is a very warm and oh so fucking wet place between those plush thighs of yours. The old man would probably only touch you – Sanemi wants to do much, much more.)

And so, a large portion of his possessiveness stems from his own protectiveness. He firmly believes that no one else is capable of protecting you to the level and degree that he can. He’s a Hashira, unafraid to throw himself into danger for a cause he fully believes in, so why should he be afraid to put himself on the line in order to keep you safe and sound?

Slaughtering demons is still his life’s mission, sure, but somehow you’ve wormed your way in, too, and Sanemi finds it increasingly difficult to simply ignore how much of an effect you have on him. And even as much as he tries to deny his feelings in the beginning, praying and hoping that they’re simply temporary, it becomes very, very difficult to force himself to not care when he sees anyone else speaking to you.

And honestly, a lot of the anger comes from the fact that you have never been this familiar and carefree when conversing with Sanemi – you never smile at him like you do with this new man, all teeth and rounded cheeks and glowing eyes. It’s cute, adorable, beautiful even, but it’s also infuriating, making Sanemi’s blood boil and something ugly and uncomfortable press against his ribs.

Other men always seem to be able to more easily speak with you – they’re wittier, better at complimenting you, managing to make you laugh and smile in a way that hurts Sanemi to see. It’s painful, more than anything, and early into his obsession it’s moments like these that show him that no matter how he tries to convince himself that his feelings for you aren’t as strong or potent as he thinks, he’s wrong.

He needs you in a way that simultaneously frustrates and terrifies him. He hasn’t felt a connection and genuine desire in such a long time that he doesn’t even recognize the feeling at first – it takes him seeing you interact with men over a prolonged period of time to even understand the nature of his infatuation, realizing that instead of mere irritation he’s feeling, it’s something deeper, harsher, more personal.

It’s something that makes it hard to breath, his fists clenching and his legs feeling like lead, dread settling deep in his chest because oh god, what does he do?

He tends to act before thinking when it comes to you, his body seeming to react before he even has a moment to process what he’s seeing, and this is certainly no exception when another man approaches you. He’ll be quick to step in, but as Sanemi’s obsession continues on, he becomes more and more torn about his possessive tendencies.

By and large, he’s lucid about the nature of his feelings for you. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, and as time passes and his love for you only seems to grow exponentially, he begins to wonder whether interfering with potential lovers of yours is really the correct move. He’s horribly jealous, of course, barely able to keep himself from hurling the moment he sees you interacting with anyone else, but there’s something else there, sitting just below the surface and giving him ever so slight pause.

It’s guilt, the idea that he’s becoming unreasonably possessive and territorial over you when he really has no right to. After all, thinking of you as his woman makes him feel good, his chest feeling all tingly and his cheeks going hot, but it’s not really true, is it?

You’re not his – he’s just an admirer, a stalker who desperately wishes he could call out to you and have you smile at him, look at him, let him wrap you in his arms and even press a kiss or two against his trembling lips. But you’re not – and it’s difficult for Sanemi to rationalize that the longer his obsession goes on.

And so, by the times that he’s a few months into accepting his feelings for you, Sanemi tries to limit his interventions into your interactions with others to only situations where you’re uncomfortable or in danger. And it’s noble, truly – but the problem arises from the fact that Sanemi is the one judging when this occurs, deciding when someone is bothering you.

His mood plays a huge role in this judgement decision, his moodiness and however long he's been away from you or gone without interacting with you swaying his decision. If he’s been particularly absent from your life for the last few days or weeks, Sanemi is believing that everyone has ill intentions with you – every man that glances at you, even every elderly woman that compliments your eyes or your figure.

They all want you, and it makes him panic, growing anxious and terrified that someone will snatch you away from him, that he’ll lose you and with you every bit of happiness and calm you make him feel. It’s a panic response, more than anything, and he’ll immediately rush in, sometimes not even caring how you grow irritated and frustrated that he always seems to just appear, despite the fact that you have the situation under control.

It’s a mixture of genuine worry for your safety and selfish desire to keep you all to himself that motivates him, and you’ll notice a stark difference in his behavior once he’s got you stolen away in his estate. He won’t directly reveal his feelings to you, but his sense of ownership over you will become much more apparent with the way he’s always providing for you, giving you all sorts of expensive gifts and getting only the best foods for you, doing anything and everything to get you to like him, to get you to become willingly his and to show you that no one else could treat you as well or love you as wholly.

He’s a prideful man, sure, but when it comes to you everything flies out the window – he’s barely able to conceal his desperation for you, and the defense is so weak that you’ll spot the cracks immediately. You’ll be able to tell just how badly he needs you to admit that you’re his, his control over your life worsening with every day that passes because he simply can’t stand knowing that you aren’t utterly, completely his.

And really, would it be so bad to give in? There’s something romantic about a man who wants you so badly that he’s so hyper fixated on keeping you his and only his, isn’t there? Something exciting, something flattering, something raw?

Sanemi sure hopes you think so, but at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter – he can’t stop himself, and you will become his at the end of the day.

Shy

But in an extremely specific way – he doesn’t shy away from interacting with you per say, but it’s very, very difficult for him to become completely open and vulnerable with you.

He’s simply too closed off – he’s entirely unused to having anyone close in his life, his few relationships held quietly close to his heart and rocky, to say the least. (His love for Genya, for example, or even the comradery he feels for Obanai and his fellow Hashira, though he’s much more expressive than he realizes.)

He’s simply not good with words, often finding himself saying things he doesn’t mean or speaking with a tone entirely unreflective of what he feels. And as a result, he struggles with the idea of opening himself up to you. You’re simply too important to him – you’re his everything now, the woman he wants to protect and keep safe above all else.

And while he’s not deluded enough to believe that you can understand him simply by looking at him, Sanemi hopes and prays that his actions are enough to convey the depth and nature of his feelings.

(Though, he’s often unsure of whether he wants you to really understand just how strong his dependence on you really is. Perhaps it would be better if you didn’t know that he can’t spend a single hour without passing thoughts of you sifting through his mind – a simple glance at a cloud has him thinking it vaguely looks like your hair, the shape making the corner of his lip turn up ever so slightly, his fingers subconsciously rubbing together and imagining the texture against his skin. He doesn’t want you to know that sometimes, when he’s sitting alone and eating the rather bare-bones, plain meal he’s cooked for himself, he’ll set a second plate, biting back his pride and quietly speaking into the air, pretending that you’re sitting there and entertaining him, nodding along to his words and encouraging him after a particularly difficult mission or seeing you getting just a tad too friendly with another man.)

Really, a lot of the fear of opening himself up comes down to Sanemi’s lucidity about his feelings for you. He has no romantic experience, true, but he’s not stupid – he’s aware that it’s unusual to be this attached when the two of you are really only platonically involved, even as much as he yearns to take things further.

He understands that it’s not normal to be so hyper fixated and concerned on your health and safety, always having a moment of clarity as he scolds you for wearing shoes that are worn down enough to hurt the soles of your shoes, or for not drinking water all day.

He’s very aware that it’s wrong of him to be following you home and keeping an eye on you without your knowledge or consent, and truthfully he’s afraid to see your reaction when you realize just how truly depraved he’s become for you. He's sure that you’ll find him repulsive – maybe you’ll curse him out, calling him a freak and a creep and even a monster for invading your personal privacy and space on such a regular basis.

(You’d be mortified, he’s sure, to find out that he often lets himself into your apartment during the day, knowing you’ll be at a friend’s place for the next few hours and wandering back after following you there, the familiar scent of you calming him immediately once he steps inside. He’s sure you’d be angry to know that he’s thumbing at each and every item of clothing you own, memorizing the feel of the fabric, running his fingers along the inside just to pretend to feel your skin, finding that this is the closest thing he can get to touching you. He’s sure you’d be mad to know that he’s picked up your pillow, hugging it to his chest and pressing his face against it, deeply inhaling and even planting a few unsure, rather stiff kisses against the material, wishing with a sort of boyish hope that tonight you’ll happen to press your face against that specific spot as you sleep.)

He’s naively nursing the hope that you’d by some miracle be okay with his more covert behaviors, wishing that you secretly feel as strongly for him as he does you. But even then Sanemi doesn’t let himself slide too deeply into that thinking, aware that it’s dangerous to become so detached from reality. You will be horrified, and he will be absolutely shattered to see the way you’ll flinch away from him, how you’ll look at him with fear and disgust in your eyes.

(And really, the pathetic thing is that while Sanemi will be ashamed of your newfound perception of him, he can’t deny that he’d be absolutely giddy to have you looking at him, your attention entirely on him even if it’s negative. And that only serves to fill him with more self-loathing, something ugly and heavy settling against his chest at the thought because it really is awfully pitiful that simply your attention is enough to have his knees feeling weak, his cheeks tingling and his palms growing sweaty because oh, you see him.)

And so, Sanemi does his best to avoid broaching the subject of how he feels about you. Instead, he tries every possible method he can think of to express himself through actions.

He doesn’t have much as a reference point, both his career and his comrades not exactly ideal sources of healthy, loving relationships, but at a certain point Sanemi becomes too desperate to ignore his few resources. He needs you to see him, to smile at him and acknowledge him, and so he bites his pride and awkwardly approaches Kanroji about it.

He’s not exactly overjoyed to be asking for her advice, but she’s the only one he feels has any sort of idea what you could possibly be looking for in terms of romantic gestures. (He’d also considered asking Shinobu, but he’d immediately crossed that idea out upon realizing that not only would Shinobu likely tease him in the moment, she’d very likely never let it go, constantly holding it over his head that the Sanemi Shinazugawa needed advice on how to woo a woman. At least Kanroji would be kind about it.)

He’s approaching her and asking as nonchalantly as he can manage whether women like men to give them flowers, escort them from location to location, cook for them, where women like to be touched (with a very, very quick clarification of not in a weird way immediately following the question), or any number of other things. And Kanroji, while suspicious of his intentions, is more than happy to gush about the small things that make women swoon. And Sanemi is hanging onto every word – pressing for details about what specific compliments to shower you with, what small gifts he should consider picking up on his missions to bring home to you, what tone of voice he should be using instead of his usual gruff, irritated lilt.

Sanemi is quick to try and instill some of these ideas into his ‘relationship’ with you – he spends easily an hour biting his lip and diligently searching through every single flower at the shop, his hands slightly trembling when he hands you the small bouquet, struggling to make eye contact as he quietly – and with something almost akin to a tremor in his voice – tells you that your kimono is beautiful, the statement almost phrased like a question.

It’s the closest Sanemi is willing to get to admitting his feelings in times like these, and up until the point where he steals you away into his own abode, these sporadic bursts of confidence and nerves will leave you with whiplash because mere moments later he’ll be growling at a drunk man approaching you, threats slipping from his lips and his aura suddenly switching from bashful, almost schoolboy-esque to deadly serious.

And once he’s been forced you kidnap you, this behavior mostly continues. He still doesn’t want to fully confess everything, but he’s trying his absolute hardest to make you as happy as possible – going out of his way to keep you comfortable and satisfied, guilt eating away at him and making him overcompensate by treating you like you’re royalty.

With time, he’ll slowly become more open to you – that mask will slip ever so slightly, bits of his true feelings shining through. He’ll accidentally let it slip that he knows something about you that he shouldn’t, cluing you into his behaviors revolving around the stalking and rifling through your things.

It’ll be the middle of the night and he’s suddenly jolted awake after a particularly graphic nightmare, half asleep as he rushes out of his bed and practically runs to find you. He’s frantic to check that you’re still in the bed he’s set up for you, his breathing only calming down when he sees your still form, a declaration of love, adoration, and relief slipping from his lips that you happen to hear and wonder at how he can be so sappy and whipped.

It’s embarrassing, more than anything, but Sanemi simply struggles to be vulnerable – eventually you’ll become uncomfortably aware of just how badly he needs you, what with his growing need for your affirmations and physical touch, but the process is slow going, frustrating, confusing, even. But please be patient with him – he’s trying his best for you, really, and with every rejection and laugh when he’s attempting to open up, the less likely he becomes to completely and fully trust that you could love him, too.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Sanemi has always been a bit more on the aggressive side; between slaughtering demons for a living and being a bit brash in his words in his personal life, he’s never been one for handling problems with delicacy, or even really diplomacy – when he gets angry, it’s a bit all consuming.

And when you get thrown into the equation? Well, Sanemi is a lost cause – his emotions regarding you are so complex, so overwhelming and deep that the moment he feels your relationship is being threatened, he’s immediately shutting it down, attacking the threat mercilessly with everything he has because fuck, he can’t let you leave him.

When it comes to romance and love, he’s honestly quite insecure; he knows that there’s no way he’s your first choice, that someone as harsh and rude and demanding could ever possibly be the one you desire. Not to mention the fact that he’s constantly putting his life on the line, the gamble he’s playing on whether he’ll live to see the light of day every night. And he’s not sure about the scars the job produces, too, because while he normally wears them as a badge of pride to signal his toughness and battle experience, he’s not so sure you’d share the same positive response to them.

(It’s such a constant worry for him that the moment you’re in his vicinity, he’s torn between leaving his uniform wide open to show off his sculpted pectorals and abs and simultaneously wanting to cover up, terrified that you’ll find his scarred and calloused body upsetting, repulsive.)

He knows he’s not the ideal man, but there’s a part of him that’s desperately clinging onto the idea that maybe, just maybe you love him too, that you’re just as happy being with him, that you need him as badly as he needs you. It’s unrealistic, though, and in his heart of hearts he knows it and berates himself for even entertaining the idea that you see him as anything more than an acquaintance (or a friend at most).

And yet, the moment that he sees another man – one that’s arguably more similar to what he’s sure your type must be - all reason gets thrown out the door. He’s gritting his teeth as he sees another man approaching you, talking to you, even so much as looking at you – it’s a threat to the relationship he’s precariously building between the two of you, a possibility for something to drive you away from him, the mere idea scaring the absolute shit out of him.

You’re his everything, the reason he lives to see another day, and the moment your safety is compromised (because Sanemi is absolutely fucking sure that that man approaching you with a flush on his face and wide eyes has intentions that are only bad, desires racing through his heart to hurt you, leave you crying and violated and so very scared) he’s immediately wanting to interfere, to break you away from whatever son of a bitch decided to come between what’s rightfully his, what he’s devoted so much of his time and energy to – you.

And even as he realizes that this mindset is detrimental, unhealthy, potentially irreparably damaging your perception of him, Sanemi can’t find it in himself to stop. He’s just too paranoid, too terrified that you’ll be so cruelly ripped away from him.

And of course, it’s also a matter of paranoia where your safety is concerned, too – he has no faith in your ability to fight, and he’s confident that if a bigger, stronger man were to assault you in some way, you’d be hard pressed to fight him off.

(A notion that makes him sick, immediately clutching at his sword and furrowing his eyebrows, the need to see you immediately making him spring to life, already sprinting to where he knows you typically are this time of day.)

And so, Sanemi will often step in between the stranger and you, regardless of the context. And while it pisses you off when it’s a friend of yours or even a simple stranger with innocent intentions, Sanemi manages to redeem himself because every time a creep approaches you, he’s always, always there to swoop in and save you just as the weight of your situation begins washing over you.

(And Sanemi is more than happy to play your savior – just the look you give him, so full of admiration and gratitude and, dare he say, awe, is enough to make him flustered for the next week, finding himself unable to fall asleep and instead imagining your face, clutching at his pillow and squeezing his eyes shut, small whispers of your name falling past his lips.)

In retrospect, you really shouldn’t have gone out for groceries this late. It was winter time, when everything goes dark much too quickly. Before you’d known it the sun was setting and you had yet to stock up on food for the week, making you quickly race out the door and trying to catch the last few minutes of vendors. The market was just barely open, the entire town feeling oddly deserted considering how early it still was.

As nightfall descended, the sun slipping past the horizon, you find yourself carrying a bag of heavy groceries and padding back home, grunting occasionally at the heavy weight in your arms. Your home wasn’t in the best of neighborhoods, the area always feeling just slightly ominous at night, but the rather depressing sight of your empty cupboards had forced you to venture at a time you’d normally avoid leaving your front door.

Biting your lip, you let the groceries in your hand shift slightly, letting the weight shift from one arm to another. Your attention is so focused on the cloth bags in your arms that you fail to notice the figure standing at the side of the road, lounging in front of a small family-owned restaurant that was closed for the evening. His robes are a dark green color, stained with something along the front that left it dark and greasy, a bottle of something strong-smelling in his clutched fist.

You hadn’t noticed him at first, but you suddenly go stiff as he whistles, the bottle crashing to the ground and shattering. Freezing only momentarily, you quickly keep moving, trying to ignore the way the man is calling after you.

Hey, get back here, woman, he’d slurred, even audibly sounding drunk.

The rather weak torches stationed every few meters along the street make it difficult to see behind you, but you can clearly hear his footsteps getting closer.

You can also hear the distinct lack of others’ footsteps, meaning you’re totally alone with a drunk man seemingly intent on bothering you.

Gulping, you keep your shoulders low, trying to curl into yourself but keeping the same pace, hoping by some stroke of luck the man would lose interest or give up on following you. Your home was only a few blocks away, if you could just push a little further maybe you’d be able to close him off at the door, and surely he’d stop then, right? He’d be too bored waiting outside for you, surely.

Hey bitch, turn around! His hand is suddenly on your shoulder, fingertips digging tightly against your clothed skin and making you wince slightly. He’s taller than you’d thought, something that becomes frighteningly obvious as he turns you to face him.

He’s sneering, lips curling up into something ugly that makes your gut twist. His breath reeksof the same sour, alcohol-baked scent, and as he leans in, you try your best to step away, leaning away from his approach.

Please leave me alone, you try, your voice sounding pathetically weak even to your own ears. He’s strong, you can tell – the dingy clothing hid his physique, but it’s not hard to feel the way his grip tightens, the way he makes an unpleasant noise that has fear prickling up your spine.

What did you just say to me? He asks, baring his teeth and moving to cup your jaw between his fingers, pressing his thumb against your lips and pressing hard enough to make you squirm, the pressure against your teeth making your panic only grow worse. He cocks a brow at your struggling, his smile creeping up again as his free hand came up to rest at your hip, moving down and towards your middle, barely passing over your clothed navel and making you open your mouth to scream. The groceries are dropped, your fear overweighing your despair at losing your week’s salary on a single grocery run.

You’re barely able to vocalize your fear before a sudden flash of white fills your peripheral, the pressure against your mouth suddenly lessening. Your body slumps down, falling to your knees on the ground as your eyes grow wide, your breaths heavy and labored as you look upon the scene before you.

The man – your savior, is standing before you, five fingers wrapped around the man’s throat and shoving him up against the wall of the nearest shop, Sanemi’s teeth bared and his own chest rising and falling rapidly.

He’s got his free hand clutched onto the hilt of his sword, and for a brief, terrifying moment you’re sure he’ll whip his blade out, perhaps slicing into the man’s guts and leaving him a bloody, mutilated pile of bones. Some sick, malevolent part of you finds a sick sort of pleasure in the idea, but your body is moving before you can even think, struggling to your feet and moving to rush forward and stop Sanemi from acting on what you’re very aware is a quick-trigger temper.

But before you can take more than a few steps, the sound of the Hashira’s voice is ringing in your ears. It’s low, gravelly, sounding as if it’s taking every bit of his concentration and self-control to not be screaming and yelling, nasally and gravely, the words clipped and uneven as his fingers tighten.

You piece of shit, touching women without their consent, you’re fucking disgusting, rot in hell –

It’s like a mantra, Sanemi sounding so very genuine and forceful, and as you stand frozen at the intensity in his voice, his words only become darker, more sinister.

Don’t touch her, don’t you fucking dare or I swear I’ll slice your head clean off and dismember your every limb. He grins, eyes going wide. I’ll slice off your cock, too, that’d be good, huh? Can’t bother any innocent women when you’re not even a man.

He punctuates this point with a kick to man’s groin, the pained groan he lets out only making Sanemi’s smile widen. You take a small step back, but Sanemi doesn’t even seem to notice.

Anyone who touches her is dead. You hear me? You’re fucking dead.

The harasser is clawing at his hand, whimpering and wheezing as his air supply grows smaller and smaller.  It’s at this point that you audibly gasp, covering your mouth with your hand and staring at him with shock, your fingers trembling and your heart racing.

That noise seems to snap Sanemi out of his trance, his muscles going rigid and his head snapping to you. His eyes widen and his lips part, the airiest whisper of your name falling from his lips, and then he’s suddenly letting go of the stranger, backing away and staring at his own hand in shock, as if he’s horrified by what his own body has done.

The man falls to the ground, curled up and coughing, but neither you nor Sanemi pay him any mind. He’s still looking at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish, mind racing as he tries to think of something to say – anything to say, really, because the way you’re looking at him right now is making his heart break, panic engulfing him because no no no now you must think he’s a violent killer and oh god you must hate him now –

He breaks the trance by rushing forward, hands immediately coming out to clutch at your shoulders, his grip noticeably softer than how he’d been choking the man. His eyes are searching over your face, glancing over every inch of your body, his breaths still coming out uneven and ragged, and Sanemi’s quickly swallowing, unsure of what to say but practically blurting out the words.

That wasn’t – I don’t – I’m not going to hurt him, I promise –

You blink at him, body stiff and unsure, but the longer he babbles on the more your muscles relax.

I wouldn’t hurt a human, I’m not a monster, I just – he was harassing you and I don’t even know what happened, I just started moving and –

You shut him up by carefully, hesitantly placing a hand over one of his, the skin contact making him suck in a sharp breath, gaze immediately zeroing in on the sight.

Your smile is only half-genuine, fear and adrenaline coursing through you, but now that the man has crawled away, cursing Sanemi out, you’re starting to calm down. You’ve spent enough time with the Hashira to know he won’t hurt you, and seeing him this worked up, this flustered and desperate to get you to believe him is proof enough that he’s telling the truth.

Stop Sanemi, I know. I understand. At that he visibly relaxes, his jaw tensing and clenching as he swallows. Thank you for saving me.

He pauses, eyebrows rising ever so slightly, before he lets out a deep, shaky exhale, nodding his head and stepping back, releasing his grip on you.

Good is all he says, still looking at you, before his grip rests once more on the hilt of his sword. He glances towards your groceries, before scowling. Are you stupid? Why the hell are you out at this hour to get groceries?

You bristle at this, familiar behavior making you shoot him a glare. Don’t judge me, not all of us can afford to have private servants cook us meals.

Sanemi scoffs. I don’t have private servants, you’re making shit up again.

You continue to bicker, still shaking slightly as you gather the groceries that fell out of the bag upon impact with the ground. Sanemi begrudgingly helps you, forcing you to let him carry both bags while he escorts you home, berating you for being out at this time the entire way.

It’s only later that night that you really truly think about what had happened, his words ringing through your mind because why had Sanemi said that? How had he even known where you were, much less that you were in danger?

You’re not sure, but as you slip under your covers and bury your face against your pillow, you find yourself brushing aside the odd coincidental nature of the encounter, instead finding yourself thankful that Sanemi was there to intervene before things got truly bad.

(Meanwhile, Sanemi is staying true to his promise of not killing any humans – though he’s quick to track down the drunk man, scoffing at the state of him. He’d fallen asleep, evidently, laying on the dirty streetcorner a ways away from your home. Rage overcomes him as he recalls the way this man had touched you, even going so far as to grope your most intimate region without your permission, anger and even a small bit of jealousy overwhelming Sanemi.

He'll certainly not kill the man, but he wasn’t lying when he promised to slice off the man’s cock – he wouldn’t miss it, would he? Besides, he tells himself as he cuts clean and quick lines, it’s for you. This way, the creep might not feel the need to harass you again, and might keep his filthy hands to himself.

And when Sanemi drops him off unceremoniously outside the doors of the nearest medical house, he can only scoff, turning his back on the bleeding man and listening as the medics immediately begin swarming him.

He doesn’t like hurting humans, sure, but for you? Well, the walk back to your home is short, and as he slips inside, standing at the foot of your bed and swallowing at the sight of your sleeping form, he feels himself visibly relax. You’re just too perfect – and as he inhales the smell of you, he knows he’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe, keeping you his.)

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Though Sanemi can’t deny the allure of domesticity with you, kidnapping you is actually something he is very strongly against. It’s a combination of factors that leave him hesitant to steal you away – he’s worried that it would permanently alter your personality, and he doesn’t want you to fear him.

He’s lucid enough to know that his feelings for you border and delve into creep territory, his penchant for following you and compulsively checking on you making it difficult to see himself as anything other than a pathetically obsessed man chasing and lusting after an innocent civilian woman.

And yet, he can’t stop himself from wanting you, needing you so badly that it physically hurts, and so Sanemi gives into his more disturbing urges with the clear, resolute promise to himself that he’ll never do anything truly drastic.

And of course, kidnapping you falls into this category. It’s the only way he can justify following you around, fantasizing about holding you and touching you and hearing you say his name. It’s the only way he can calm himself down when moments of lucidity and clarity come rushing at him, guilt clawing at his throat because why the fuck is he hovering over your sleeping figure and reaching into his trousers right now?

He doesn’t trust himself around you, and that’s only another deterrent to keeping you locked up and away with him. It’s like he’s not in control of his body when you’re present – he’s always looking at you, sneaking glances even when he explicitly tells himself not to.

(Even when he instigates a sort of punishment system for himself – he clenches his fist hard enough to draw blood or pinches himself too tightly every time he catches himself doing it, trying to break the habit. Instead, however, he finds himself littered in bruises and all sorts of crescent-shaped marks on his palms, his will-power no match for the way he needs to be looking at you constantly.)

He’s always gravitating towards you, keeping his body facing in your direction, just so that if you do something or say something he’ll be able to immediately respond, every fiber of his being hoping that you’ll reach out, that you’ll speak to him, that you’ll acknowledge him.

(Hell, he’s even lost control subconsciously – he’s puffing his chest out without thinking about it when you’re around him, subtly trying to make the deep slit in his uniform go wider so that you can see more of his corded muscles, clenching his abs tightly enough to make the definition impossible to ignore. He’s running his hands through his hair the moment someone mentions your name, swiping his bangs out of his eyes just to look presentable, just so that if you see him you’ll maybe, just maybe find him attractive and appealing.)

It’s pathetic, he thinks, and he’s terrified that once you’re stolen away by his side, trapped with him as your sole companionship and provider (an idea that does, of course, make something pleasurable and good roll up his spine), these behaviors will only get worse. If he can’t control himself when he’s still physically distant from you, who knows what he’ll feel at liberty to do once you have nowhere else to run.

He’ll never hurt you, he’s sure of it, but he really, really doubts that you’ll be comfortable with all of the things that his subconscious wants to do to you. He’s sure you don’t particularly want to be encaged in his arms while he squeezes and squeezes and squeezes, trying to get you as close as physically possible because he’s still irritated that he can’t live inside of your skin.

(But what if he crushes you, or somehow breaks your bones with the strength of his affection? It’s enough to get him biting his lip, staring down at his open palms and scowling, frustrated at himself because he knows the euphoria of touching you will make him stupid.)

He’s sure you don’t want him to hand-feed you, bringing the chopsticks up to your mouth, watching your pretty, soft lips open up and letting him place the home-cooked food against your tongue.

(And seeing you looking at him with your mouth open, taking something that he’s made and given to you against your tongue will have him flushing, swallowing heavily and having to look away because fuck he’s such a pervert and he’s ruining a sweet moment by growing unbearably hard in his trousers, and oh god – what if there’s a wet spot when he stands up? Will you notice? Fuck fuck fuck!)

It’s a recipe for disaster, not to mention the fact that your fear and hesitance would likely force you to become a shell of your former self. You’d be reduced to nothing but a skeleton of your personality, and that’s the absolute last thing Sanemi wants. He wants you – authentically, fully, as you are when you’re free and independent. And stealing you away would change that, he’s sure – and he’d never forgive himself for diminishing even a flicker of your light.

But of course, misfortune seems to follow Sanemi like some sort of sick joke – it’s only a matter of time before something terrible happens.

It’s a demon attack, likely. Perhaps some demon has noticed that a Hashira seems to hold a penchant for a particular human, and with his marechi blood they’re very, very eager to lure him out and feast on him. And in the process, you get caught in the crossfire – it’s rare that Sanemi leaves you completely and truly alone, but when he’s been summoned for a mission, he can’t exactly decline.

And so, he rushes through the job, quickly finding the demon and slaughtering it in the quickest, fastest way possible before immediately returning back to you, falling into the shadows so that he can continue to keep an eye on you, letting out a rather harsh breath when he finally spots you again, in tact and unharmed.

Except one night, as he sprints through the dark forest, he sees the very faint outline of your home and immediately his eyes go wide.

Your front door is wide open.

He generally thinks you’re rather careless about your safety, sure, but even you aren’t that bad – something is wrong. He pushes himself to run faster, harder, his breaths sounding more like wheezing as he descend on your house, immediately rushing inside and drawing his sword. The adrenaline coursing through his veins only makes him falter for a moment upon seeing his absolute worst nightmare – you’re on the ground, eyes slowly blinking and your body crumpled up, most of your visible skin covered with blood.

His nostrils flare, the sight of the demon crouching over you making his grip on the sword hilt so tight his knuckles turn white, something akin to a genuine growl coming from him.

Get the hell away from her!

He’s yelling and charging, immediately activating his breathing technique and beheading the creature before it can even react. His chest is still heaving, and despite the black mist that begins to appear on the creature’s neck, he’s immediately settling down, straddling the creature and throwing punch after punch. It’s bloody – it’s spraying all over his uniform, staining the white as his fists dig into flesh, denting and tearing and destroying, all the while Sanemi is yelling at it, cursing and calling it a vile, disgusting creature, claiming it’s trying to hurt and kill his woman.

It’s terrifying, really, and as you slowly lose consciousness you’ll find yourself feeling even more terrified, unsure of what’s happening.

And as the demon disappears, Sanemi slowly calms down, gathering his senses and immediately grabbing you, carrying you to the Butterfly Mansion as quickly as his legs can carry him. He doesn’t want to bring you home (or at least, he knows he shouldn’t), but once Shinobu has you patched up and he returns to your now blood-stained abode, Sanemi’s biting his lip, wavering.

He can’t let you come back here – not with the knowledge that you could be attacked again, not when you’re out of his sight and protection, not when you’re so very vulnerable. And so, he begrudgingly brings you back to his estate, settling you into the bedroom as far away from his own as possible.

(He’d refrained from keeping you in the room he’s spent the last few months pretending was your own, too – outfitted with all of the items he’s bought for you but been too afraid to give to you: all sorts of hairpins, beautiful weavings, flowers, even small, curtly written notes he’d been crazed enough to write in the dead of night when he just could not stop thinking of you. No, that’d be too much – he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so he locks that room up, praying that you never, ever find out about it.)

When you awake, you’ll find yourself changed into fresh, clean clothing (soft clothing, too, the kind that you could never afford), tucked into a bed in a room you don’t recognize. The futon is soft, the sheets warm and decorated with a pattern and color that you distinctly note is a favorite of yours. Your entire body hurts, wincing as you sit up.

It’s only then that the door slides open, a tuft of white hair greeting you as Sanemi clears his throat, wide eyes glancing at every visible part of your body. He’s rather curt when he explains where you are, glossing over the why and instead cryptically reiterating that you’re safe now, so drop it.

As a captor, Sanemi is surprisingly attentive – you’d known each other before your  kidnapping, of course, though he’d always seemed like a rather hot-headed, difficult man.

And those mannerisms certainly don’t change when he’s got you trapped with him – except now you can see that there’s something deeper under the surface, something vulnerable and raw and real. You’ll see it in the way that he touches you like you’re made of glass – shying away and retracting his hands just moments before they touch your skin, acting almost as if the idea of touching you repulses him.

(God, nothing could be less true – he so desperately wishes to brush his fingertips against the smooth skin of your thighs, to cup your cheeks in his palms, to press his lips against yours – softly, slowly, as if he can’t quite believe that you’re real.)

You’ll see it in the way that he has every meal cooked and prepared for you, the Wind Estate quiet and empty except for the two of you. It’s always your favorite foods, cooked with every idiosyncrasy and taste of yours in mind, with a level and degree of accuracy that will terrify you at first.

And frankly, you will be terrified at first – he’s reluctant to admit his feelings to you, sure that if you were to know the truth of the situation you’d immediately reject him, and as stupid as it is Sanemi doesn’t think he could handle your rejection. It would break him, emotionally, physically, and mentally, leaving him a shell of a man and still just as desperately, pathetically in love with you if not more so.

But the reason you’ll be terrified isn’t because of his demeanor or the way you think he feels – rather, it will become obvious very quickly that Sanemi knows much more about you than you thought. You know you’ve never told him your preferred menstrual supplies, and yet the bathroom he’s assigned to you is stocked full of the exact model and heaviness you prefer.

(It’s your own bathroom, thankfully, though when you’re asleep sometimes Sanemi will sneak in, picking up your toothbrush and letting it sit against his lips, suckling at the bristles and rifling through your trash just to find a pad or two when he knows you’re menstruating. He’d rather slice off his own hand than admit it to you, of course, but just being in a space that you regularly use makes him feel special, connected to you in a way that makes his knees weak and the smallest, faintest of smiles cross his lips.)

You’re sure you’ve never mentioned what clothing size you wear, and yet there’s a slew of brand new, beautifully made kimonos and lounging wear perfectly tailored to your body, all in a range of colors and designs that are your favorites.

(There’s also a few in a lime green material and a single, pure white one, both of which were guilty pleasures that Sanemi felt compelled to include in his orders from the local seamstresses. And if you were to wear one, willingly, during a shared meal with him? Well, don’t comment on the pink color of his cheeks, nor the way he ever so slightly stutters when he tells you that you look nice.)

Frankly, he’s a pretty good captor to have – he gives you space, and forces himself to stay away from you for most of the day in an effort to not overwhelm you. At least, at the beginning. He tells himself it’s enough to know that you’re locked up in the Wind Estate, safe and sound and perfectly removed from the danger of the outside world, but his paranoia and yearning for your company eventually drive him to spend just a hair more time with you.

Instead of giving you privacy during meals, he’ll instead knock at your door, entering with his own plate and sitting down as far away from you as possible within the room, silently eating and trying not to make his staring too obvious.

(He mentally justifies it as making sure that you don’t choke on your food, but really it’s more about seeing you enjoy what he’s made for you and knowing that you’ve eaten today. Good. He'll sharply inhale, biting back a smile as he slowly eats his own food, trying to prolong the moment.)

He spoils you with all sorts of gifts and supplies for any hobbies you may have, and while he initially doesn’t interact with you as you knit or draw or read, eventually he’ll gather the courage to ask you a question, trying (and failing) to sound nonchalant as he asks what it is that you’re drawing, how to knit, or what your favorite book is.

It’s a slow but steady process, and as time passes and you grow more and more complacent with your situation, you’ll find yourself coming to enjoy the rough, oddly charming presence of Sanemi. Even if his stalking and feelings for you become an unspoken truth, his fondness for you difficult to ignore (with the way he treats you so gently, spoils you, and very poorly hides the way his cock springs to life each time you say his name).

And so really, Sanemi feels guilty enough for being in love with you, and even more guilty for forcing you into a life of complacency – the least you could do is compliment him, right? You could at least invite him to join you for meals and walks around the modest garden of his estate. You could at least intertwine your fingers with his and pretend to not notice the way he gasps, mumbling something incoherent that sounds vaguely like your name.

Really, it’s the least you could do – and with every action, Sanemi only falls for you harder, deeper, his resolve to keep you safe, happy and his only growing.

PUNISHMENTS:

While his obsession with you alters certain parts of his personality, some characteristics remain absolutely true regardless of his feelings for you. And unfortunately, one of them is his quick-trigger temper.

You calm him, the mere sound of your voice making the tension in his muscle relax, the clenching of his jaw lessening slightly, the tensing of his shoulders becoming less pronounced. The feeling of your hand pressing against his chest makes him freeze in place, the anger simmering in his gut becoming more diluted, the rage slowly leaving him because god, you’re standing right in front of him and he can see every fine detail of your face and he can smell you and god…

You have a physical effect on him that calms him ever so slightly, but he still finds himself remarkably susceptible to rage, even with you in his vicinity.

Of course, rarely ever is he actually mad at you – early into his infatuation he’d found himself constantly irritated and enraged at you, convinced that you’d somehow purposefully made him into the lovesick fool that he is, unable and unwilling to admit to himself that it’s entirely his own doing leading to his spiral into dependence on you. He’d even tried to hate you, consciously filling his head with lies and telling himself that you were weak, a burden, only something that would slow him down. And yet, the anger was never quite real, never quite honest.

(Never directed at you, really, but more directed at himself for being so weak as to form such strong, dependent feelings on you.)

And so, Sanemi’s anger more often than not revolves around someone else – often, someone around you. Men that get too close, friends that meddle when they notice that you have Sanemi as an unwanted admirer, your boss when they treat you poorly, even strangers that are even the slightest bit rude to you.

He’ll never go far enough as to injure another human to point of death, if only because he’s still guided by morals that yearn to save humans, but Sanemi is absolutely committed to making sure that you’re treated like the royalty that he perceives you as.

(Often, any men that feel bold enough to approach you, or god forbid touch you meet a bloody, painful altercation with the Hashira, unable to do anything but be pounded into a pulp as he swings and punches, leaving them a bloody semi-conscious mess on the ground, even spitting onto them as he mutters something about being a fuckin’ monster, assaulting women like it’s nothing…)

But all that said, there are a few very specific things that can get Sanemi angry at you, too. He can forgive you lashing out at him and calling him terrible names, even openly welcoming it sometimes because he knows it’s true.

He’s mostly worried when you attempt to escape rather than angry, terrified that you’ll somehow hurt yourself or be eaten by a demon if you manage to get through the patch of wisteria trees surrounding the perimeter of his estate. Instead, his main triggers are when you injure yourself, or when you say something negative or degrading about yourself.

 He’s so paranoid about your safety and health that the mere idea of you injuring yourself gets him borderline panicking, his breathing getting heavier and his hands starting to tremble as panic engulfs him because he absolutely cannot lose you, too.

He’s always quick to reprimand you, yelling at you but dressing your wounds as gently as possible, treating you as if you’re made of glass and cleaning everything perfectly to prevent any further harm. But really, what truly angers Sanemi is when you display a lack of self-respect, though he’ll never explicitly punish you.

He loves you – so much so that it physically hurts, his chest aching when he’s away from you, every muscle growing restless and anxiety settling in his gut because he needs to see you right now. He’s a worshipper in every sense of the word, and to have you disrespecting yourself and talking down to yourself in any capacity is enough to get his blood boiling. It’s two-fold, really, because not only is it an assault on your character, but it’s an assault on his, too. It’s a remark against him for thinking of you so highly, for revering you and kissing the ground you walk on. It bruises his pride and makes him defensive of you, even if it’s you yourself making the remark.

And so, Sanemi tends to grow angry, unable to comprehend how you can possibly see yourself as something less-than when he’s so utterly enraptured with every fiber of your being.

Being trapped with him means long expanses of time where you’re alone, Sanemi out on a mission or pulled away begrudgingly, and as time passes this will slowly start to affect you.

Too much alone time equates to an awful lot of staring in the mirror, fingers prodding at the skin of your cheeks or arranging your hair this way or that, furrowing your brow and trying to understand exactly what it is about you that makes Sanemi so enthralled. You can’t put your finger on it – you’re just you, and while he’s never come right out and said it, you’re very aware that Sanemi finds you beautiful.

(You’ve overheard him, after all, late at night when he’s muffling his groans and the wet schlock schlock noise is audible even through the wall separating you. It’s difficult to not hear it, after all, when he’s moaning your name as he gets close, stuttered curses and little gasps of s-so beautiful, fuck and all sorts of other praises slipping out of him as his orgasm approaches.)

It’s too much time for you to be alone and overanalyze. And even now that you’ve been with him for well over a year, now that your whole world has become Sanemi Shinazugawa, it’s too easy to let the insecurities get the best of you.

And really, you shouldn’t have ever mentioned it – later that night, when Sanemi returns home from his latest mission, he can immediately tell that something is wrong. He closes and locks the multitude of locks on the front door, glancing at you with skepticism and worry, before placing his hands on your hips and pulling you close, leaving a single long kiss against your forehead as he asks you what’s wrong. Your small mumble of nothing doesn’t convince him, but Sanemi just pushes it aside, deciding to revisit the subject after you’ve both eaten.

 Dinner is quiet, and it’s halfway through that he decides enough is enough.

What the hell’s the matter with you? He’s asking, setting down his chopsticks and staring pointedly at you.

You’re not too terribly afraid of your captor by this point, but the intensity of his stare still makes you fold in on yourself slightly, embarrassment and self-consciousness eating away at you. Sanemi continues the staring, unwilling to back down, eventually scoffing and telling you to just spit it out, I’ll wait as long as it takes.

And that you believe, enough to get you blurting out a quick I’m not good enough for you to be so in love with.

It’s slurred and difficult to understand even to your own ears, but it gets Sanemi’s face twisting up, a mixture of shock and confusion making his brows knit together and that familiar scowl sit on his lips.

What the fuck? It’s all he can ask, really, because this is so out of left field and unexpected that he genuinely has no clue how to respond.

At his pointed confusion and silence, you play with your thumbs, hunger totally gone as the words start falling out of you like some sort of nervous word vomit. It’s just that I don’t really get why you’re so – so fixated on me. I’m nothing special, and before you get angry at me just know that it’s okay and I’m not trying to get away I just –

Sanemi cuts you off by rising to his feet before you can even blink, a hand snapping out to wrap around your wrist. Before you know it you’re being dragged down a series of long hallways until you come face to face with a door you’ve never set foot passed – Sanemi’s personal, private room.

Normally, when the two of you share a bed (something that has only recently begun happening, after Sanemi gathered the courage and you’ve become so touch-starved that you welcomed his presence), you sleep in the room he's had made up for you, Sanemi allowing you to stay in the quasi-comfort of your ‘own’ room rather than force you into yet another unfamiliar situation.

 But you hardly have any time to gawk at the room before he’s shoving you in front of his modest mirror, the reflection of yourself making you blink twice. He's angry – you can see his face in the mirror now, and his cheeks area  bright red and a few veins are standing out against his neck, a sure sign that he’s livid and is only barely able to hold himself back from acting on it.

 It makes you shrink slightly, though you’re confident at this point that he won’t hurt you, at least not purposefully.

Look at yourself, he tells you, voice strained. He’s standing behind you, gripping onto your shoulders and forcing you to face yourself in the mirror.

You do as you’re told, but it doesn’t seem to satisfy Sanemi.

He groans, resting his forehead against the slope of your shoulder. Look at yourself.

A pause, then: Please.

Swallowing, you search each and every feature of your familiar face. Your eyes, nose, lips, cheeks, eyebrows, jaw, anything and everything you can think of. After a few moments, Sanemi looks at you in the mirror again, his eyebrows furrowed tightly.

Do you really not see it? He asks, and you merely shake your head.

He bares his teeth. Dammit, how can you not? How can you be so fucking blind?

It’s harsh, his words making you wince slightly, but they’re loaded with something unlike his usual rage – there’s something sweeter to it, something that feels different and gets you meeting his gaze in the mirror. The look on his face is almost pleading, and you’re struck with the realization that he’s not angry, he’s frustrated. Genuinely frustrated that you don’t seem to understand just what he sees in you.

Slowly, you bring your fingers up to your cheeks, fingertips pressing against the soft skin. Sanemi watches you with bated breath, his grip on you still tight.

Compliment yourself, he instructs, the words sounding strained. You blink at him, swallowing heavily.

You mutter out a small comment of how your eyes aren’t too terrible, and Sanemi groans at that. His hand moves from your shoulder to your chin, pinching at it and bringing you closer to the mirror. Give yourself a real compliment, or I’ll stand here all fucking day until you do.

You tell him that you have pretty eyes, and it seems to please him. He nods, almost subconsciously, keeping his grip on your chin. Damn right you do. Pretty eyes and a pretty smile. Tell me more.

He keeps you in this position for nearly an hour, forcing you to list off each and every possible compliment about your looks and personality that you can think, his gaze never wavering in intensity or sincerity as he grunts and nods at each and every one.

It’s only as your jaw starts to ache and you start to grow restless that Sanemi eventually lets go, turning you gently to face him. A finger lightly traces over the shape of your lips as he exhales, the softness of his actions and the moment making you feel light.

Don’t undersell yourself. His voice is firm, his lips set in a thin line. You’re perfect, and you need to accept that.

He covers your mouth with his hand as you part your lips to respond, shaking his head. No, none of that shit. We’re doing this every day until you decide that you’re good enough for me – until you prove to me that you respect yourself the way you should. New compliments every day, and I don’t care how hard it is for you. When you run out, I’ll step in, but you’re elaborating on everything I say. Got it?

You nod, a strange sort of tenderness welling up inside of you that only makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes because oh god, how wrong is this? Your captor, the man who stole you away and keeps you trapped inside his him, is complimenting you and it’s making you feel more loved and wanted and appreciated than you’ve felt in your whole life. There’s just something so sincere about his push for you to understand just how wonderful he thinks you are that makes your lower lip wobble, the way he’s actually genuinely enraged by your insecurities and the absurdness of them making your nose tingle.

It's sweet, something your captor really shouldn’t be, and as tears slip down your cheeks Sanemi awkwardly presses you against his chest, silent as his grip grows progressively tighter. He’s no stranger to insecurity, and as he drags you to the mirror the next day and the next after that, you’ll slowly find yourself believing him when he says that you’re kind, that you’re beautiful, that he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything else in his life.

It's strange and you may hate yourself for it, but as the days pass you’ll find yourself growing more and more fond of Sanemi, his commitment to improving your self-esteem feeling like the more intimate thing anyone has every done for you, and slowly you’ll find yourself seeing him in more and more of a romantic light. Sure, he’s stolen you away and stalked you extensively, but when he holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear and calls you beautiful in a voice so raw that it cracks, how can you not fall for him? Maybe you’re sick in the head, depraved, any number of terrible things, but with each compliment he forces from your lips, you’ll find yourself caring less.

He just really, really loves you, doesn’t he?

OVERALL DANGER:

4/10

By and large, Sanemi is akin to a large, possessive guard dog. The mere thought of hurting you makes him sick to his stomach, and he’ll go to any possible length to ensure your health and safety.

(He’s had literal nightmares about leaving you bloody and bruised, and he’s actually woken up and immediately hurled, breathing hard and nearly in tears because it felt so real and it’s almost like your blood is actually on his hands.)

He’s paranoid, terrified that you’ll somehow be killed and stolen away from him, your presence the only thing that seems to calm him, growing to become the only thing that motivates him to wake up every morning.

He’s overprotective, letting his fear for your safety bleed into every aspect of his relationship with you – he’s following you around like a lovesick puppy, constantly vigilant for threats to your safety. He’s obsessively tracking your meals, fussing over making sure that you’re getting balanced, nutritious foods, constantly asking you if you’ve drunk water on any particular day.

And he’s possessive – refusing to allow you to interact with most men, skeptical of your friends, entirely untrusting of each and every person in your life. He won’t try to manipulate you into isolating yourself, but Sanemi really, really wants to, only holding back for the sake of your mental wellbeing. And really, that’s a large factor in Sanemi’s behavior towards you – he loves you, or at least in his own deranged, too-intense way, and he’s willing to kill himself physically and emotionally just to make sure that you never frown, that you’re never sad or angry or afraid.

His first priority is you, always, and it’s only after that that he considers getting you to love him back. It’s of course the goal – he wants you so badly that you have no fucking clue, because how could you? How could you possibly understand just how deeply his dependence on you has become, just how intertwined a mere scrap of your attention becomes for his self-confidence, his happiness, his sanity in his day-to-day life?

He’s well and truly whipped for you, his every waking thought revolving around you, but you’ll that your life will be relatively good with him. He’ll treat you like a queen, spoiling you and doing everything in his power to keep you happy, and can you really hate it as much as you claim to?

Can you really, honestly say that Sanemi is a monster when he keeps you well cared for and respects you despite the way you know he wants to ravage you and keep you all for himself?

Can you honestly say that you don’t want him just as badly, that you’ve become so accustomed to him that you’re well and truly his?

Sanemi sure hopes not, and as time passes, you’ll slowly give into the small, desperately and pathetically hopeful looks of his, reaching out to touch him when he’s too hesitant to initiate, even whispering those lovely, sacred three little words. And once you do, he’ll only work harder to adore you, only falling deeper and deeper into obsession with every passing day.

With every passing second, really.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Live, laugh, love Reinhard van Astrea Agenda™! There is a genuine demand for the man, and I am here to DELIVER! If anyone ever has any ideas to share - do not hesitate!

Even with his countless accolades, various achievements and plethora of skills, Reinhard van Astrea is still nothing but a man at the end of the day. He sits in a chair and admires the sunset, how the pretty colours all flow into one another in order to create a warm embrace of light, to which the knights heart cannot help but to sting a little.

When was the last time someone had embraced him? Reinhard thought to himself, his usually calm face suddenly turning sour.

The longer he allowed himself to linger at those thoughts, the more jealous he became of the sun, those same beautiful rays now mocking him in his cold, dark emptiness, with no one truly being there for him in his corner in his hour of need.

Does a hero like him even have an hour of need? Such a difficult question indeed...

Perhaps that was why Reinhard ended up gravitating towards you. He could not explain away the thrill of seeing you on the street and talking to you, nor could he keep count of how many times he felt his poor little belly rise in an uproar of nausea, a sensation which was otherwise completely foreign to him.

Frankly, part of him wondered if you were a member of the Witch Cult at the start. Why else would he be feeling this way? Reinhard's mind kept doing all sorts of mental gymnastics over and over, but it all fell flat whenever he would look into your eyes and the strongest knight in the world would suddenly turn into a starstruck little puppy.

It was humiliating how his heart nearly broke through his chest and fell straight onto the pavement beneath his boots, all because you had been a careless and sweet little thing by grabbing his strong hand into your own.

The way you held him so casually, it was horrifying but in the most dazzling way possible.

Reinhard recalled his grandfather saying something how you should never get into a way of a man who is blinded with love.

The redhead was finally beginning to grasp that sentiment in its entirety.

It was so easy to fall in love, so impossibly easy to fall into that sweet clutch and hold onto it. Reinhard fought it with all his might, he really and truly did. His sworn duty was to be proper and honorable, who was he to chase after his overbearing desires?

And all of those concerns and worries would melt away like snow in the heat whenever he was granted the blessing of being in your company.

Reinhard van Astrea was a lovesick fool. He hadn't even realized just how deep he was in, just how bad the situation had gotten.

Playing mind games with himself became a common occurrence as he came to the thought that if he took you, all would be well. He had the resources to take care of you and he was the strongest man in the kingdom.

It was definitely the right thing to do.

The Sword Saint held you in his embrace, his grip iron tight as you trashed in the darkness, spewing curses at him. It pained him to see you like this but he had no choice.

Reinhard hated being called a monster. But hearing that cursed word fall from your lips hurt like nothing before.

No divine protection, no amount of training, no mystical spell could have prepared him from the boiling, white hot pain he was in.

You had just called him a monster.

If he wasn't in such a rush, perhaps he would even cry.

He was going to make you see otherwise, thought Reinhard with determination. He was going to show you that all he wanted was the absolute best for you, nothing more. Reinhard was going to be your hero and there was no going back from that.

[rh1ncodontypus]

Actually, I'm still going.

TL;DR

Two days is nothing in real life time.

Content creators are human. We should treat them as such.

Equating morality to the content people consume is not a "one-size-fits-all" strategy.

This is in no way equivalent to what happened with Iskall.

Do I agree with Skizz having mods that support MAGA? No, not at all. I think he deserves the benefit of the doubt, at the very least.

Two days is nothing in real life time.

I think people are jumping the gun with the current information we have. I think Skizz hasn't had the chance to really do anything yet. Hell, I don't think ANY of the Hermits have had the chance to do anything yet, let alone think. I feel like we've been spoiled with in-real time updates. I don't think it's fair to expect Skizz, or anyone for that matter, to reply or act right this second or else.

Content creators are human. We should treat them as such.

TL;DR: This man has just bumped headfirst into the Paradox of Tolerance. Give him a second.

Generally the definition of tolerance has been maintaining a neutral opinion. This was especially the case with Gen X/Millennials. We have different opinions and we work together anyway. I probably don't have to inform you that's much harder to do in the present, if I'm putting it lightly.

I don't think Skizz is transphobic. I don't think he looked at his mods and decided to hire two of them because they're MAGA. Don't get me wrong; I am not defending having mods that are MAGA. I think that five years ago, he needed people to moderate his chat and he thought those mods did fine. This circles back to the definition of tolerance.

Right now, Skizz is facing the paradox of tolerance. It's up to him what he does with it. And honestly, this might be the first time he's having to think about this. He's a white cis man, which means he occupies a position of incredible privilege (that is not a moral judgment).

And you know what? Trans rights are divisive and the fact they're divisive sucks. I'm saying this as a trans person. You post something about trans rights and you have people fighting on your post in 0.2 seconds with increasing levels of hostility. I don't blame anyone for not knowing how to deal with that on livestream, or wanting to maintain neutrality, as much as it disappoints me.

In the wider scheme of things, Skizz is new to being a full-time content creator. He's probably never dealt with a situation like this before.

I feel like people were quick to assume malice or hostility. So I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt and I hope other people are, too. I also don't think this is the cardinal sin that some people are treating it as.

Equating morality to the content people consume is not a "one-size-fits-all" strategy.

I'm already seeing posts encouraging people to boycott his content and heavily implying that someone is a bad person if they don't. You've probably heard of the situation with J.K. Rowling. The reason people are calling for a complete boycott is because any support or money actively enables her transphobic actions and platform.

Separating content from content creator is complicated. I acknowledge that. But applying the morality = content consumption runs the danger of turning into "I am a good person because I only consume pure content™ and this person is bad because they consume the bad content." I don't think that's the way we should be judging people.

This is in no way equivalent to what happened with Iskall.

If this situation is a 10, then what happened with Iskall is a 120. Iskall's situation had tangible victims and was happening over an extended period of time.

Do I agree with Skizz having mods that support MAGA? No, not at all. I think he deserves the benefit of the doubt, at the very least.

[hotvintagepoll]

Don Knotts (The Incredible Mr. Limpet, The Ghost and Mr Chicken, The Reluctant Astronaut)—Just look at him. He’s just a lil scrungly guy. Also he started entertaining as a ventriloquist, and there’s nothing scrunglier than a ventriloquist. In all seriousness, Don Knotts’ career is singularly unique. His speaking voice was iconic, and he used it to his advantage and played it up – see also the included YouTube link to his small role in No Time for Sergeants [link]. He not only played second fiddle comedic character roles, but also played leading comedic character roles. He didn’t need a sidekick for his movies but he could *be* the sidekick if needed. That’s key to Scrungly Little Guy™ behavior, in my opinion. Knotts undoubtedly influenced many comedians and sitcom characters in both his lifelong film and TV career – and I do mean lifelong, as his final role was in 2006, the year he passed away! In the 70s, he became a frequently used actor in live action Disney comedy films for kids like The Apple Dumpling Gang and appeared in many children’s programs. Knotts was said to be one of the nicest guys in Hollywood, which is important for Scrungly Little Guy™ lore.

Conrad Veidt (The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, The Man Who Laughs)— oh my god look at him in Caligari. I specifically said that he's from this because him as Cesare is just. MMMMM. he's so wet and sad and scrungly. and little. he's like a kitten left alone in a dark alley except he's also killed people (not his fault). something wrong with him (Cesare). as for Conrad himself. oh my god look at him... them big ole eyes and the walk of some fucking thing creature

This is round 5 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you’re confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Don Knotts:

TBH, I was first introduced to Don knotts in things like three's company, the og Scooby-Doo cartoons, and later on that Disney chicken little movie. He's probably most remembered from his time on the Andy griffith show. But just look at him! Don't you just wanna put him situations?

When you say scrungly his face is just what immediately pops into my head

Don Knotts plays in most if not all of his filmography someone who is kinda dull-witted, afraid of his own shadow, or kind of cowardly. He is the scrungliest of scrungly people!  

Conrad Veidt:

I mean just look at him. The wet cat energy. The ghostly eyes. He did the monster mash before anybody. Where would we be today without him, he even has one (1) song on spotify. I regularly forget he's dead and wonder what his next movie will be. He slays in any role. The Ultimate Skrunkle.

He's the ultimate scrungly to me, the basis for many of our scrungly guys today. he's so skinny and pale and he wears so much eye makeup

He was THE bisexual goth tumblr sexyman of early film. Seriously the old timey Tumblrinas would send him fanmail about wanting him to choke them. He inspired the designs for the Joker and Jafar,and was nicknamed the “Demon of the Silver Screen” for his horror roles. His first wife divorced him for crossdressing. Hitler sent him hate mail for speaking out about antisemitism. He really loved his wife and told the Germans to go fuck themselves when they threatened his job if he didn’t divorce her for being Jewish. Just look at me and tell me this guy isn’t scrungly he’s like a personification of the emo kid from Horton hears a who

[cw the below clip depicts assault/abduction and could be scary for some viewers]

[prahelika]

let's get into it. the most incoherent and nonsensical rant of all time ig.

the symbolism of the Knife (™) in Mission Impossible

our first introduction to the knife comes all the way back in MI1. It's used to kill sarah - ethan finds it lodged in her body. It's interesting that sarah's body is the only one ethan ever sees with his own eyes - it makes the horrifying events of the night real. once confronted with the body of his friend, ethan can no longer consider this a bad dream or a delusion. it's real, his friends are dead, he has nowhere to go, the authorities are after him.

so the first role the knife plays signifies ethan's loss of innocence. (bear with me, this is going to make sense in a minute. or not.)

next time we see the knife, it's in the hands of franz krieger. he's a secondary antagonist; his role is to provide a clue to ethan as to which side he's on, and die messily at the end. it's here that ethan recognises the weapon in his hands, and starts to put the pieces together. (krieger has the knife that killed sarah + krieger was brought to the team by claire = something fishy is up.)

the most significant scene with the knife is, of course, when krieger tries to kill a person with it and ethan stops him. it should be noted that, upto this point, the audience doesn't really know shit about ethan's moral alignment. is he looking for revenge? is he looking for a way to clear his name, and nothing else? is he even a good person, worth rooting for beyond the fact that his friends are dead? who knows?

until this scene. "zero body count." it immediately establishes ethan as a person who is unwilling to sacrifice even a single life, no matter what. It may be argued that it would be justified for a spy to kill in this specific circumstance (1. ethan needs to clear his name 2. the NOC list needs to be taken for ethan to figure out what is going on) but he. doesn't. I don't think ethan directly kills a single person in the film.

the point here is that the knife, previously shown as something that is meant to destroy ethan's character, is then used to build his character up instead, showing him as somebody who's morally good even in the worst circumstances of his life.

now, we can fiiiiiinally come to MI8.

a role played by the knife in the first film was also to destroy the life of william donloe, the guy supposed to guard the NOC list. it gets him sent to a far-flung corner of the world for the rest of his life. wow, bet he's pretty pissed at ethan, right?

wrong. he's found a new life for himself with a wife he loves very much. he thanks ethan for giving him a life he's proud of. the knife that was supposed to be the end of his life was actually the beginning. (cheesy af but words not wording rn. sory.) he's a major player in the endgame, and he gets to survive along with his wife.

now! the last use of the knife. unless I'm very, very, very mistaken (in which case I will delete my entire blog), it is used by paris for the emergency surgery in the doomsday vault to save benji. and i. just. does anything really need to be said about that. the knife used to kill ethan's friend now being used to save ethan's friend.

the point of this whole post!!!! was to emphasise the fact that the knife always, always signifies turning a bad situation into a good one. it's a representation of ethan (mr. Impossible Mission) managing to flip the script everytime and make the absolute best of the suckiest situations he gets into.

tldr: the knife is a metaphor for the soul of mission impossible which describes how the man's greatest strengths stand out in his worst moments. "you use a scalpel, i prefer a hammer" wrong, angela basset, ma'am. they use a knife.

also if you made it to the end. you are now my friend without introduction. have a picture of peak eye candy ethan hunt and the unholy spirit that guides him.

[jason-todd-fangirl-14]

Jason Grace Dating Headcanons!!

Thank you to all who begged for this after I mentioned I wanted to write it. This one goes out to ya’ll!! Other PJO characters dating hcs may come out as well, probably sometime after the new year if I decide to write them at all. Lmk any male characters you’d like to see if I were to do them. In the meantime, enjoy our blond Superman’s dating hcs!!

•for starters, Jason would 1000% be a gentleman. You cannot convince me otherwise.

•if you’re with him anywhere, in public or in the privacy of your own space, he will make sure your hand is in his basically at all times. If you pull your hand from him, he will give you such a disapproving look LOL.

•if you’re ever out driving just you two, he will almost always be in the drivers seat. He just loves driving his passenger princess around anywhere she wants. This may just be me, but I feel like he’d have bad motion sickness in the car, especially after his mother died in a car accident, and the only way he'd be able to be in the car is if he’s the one behind the wheel.

•book advent calendars every Christmas, Valentine’s Day & your birthday!

•Jason Grace is definitely a chivalrous man, and nobody can convince me otherwise!! He carries all of your bags if you go shopping at the mall, opens every car and building door. Heck, he will even carry you around like a bride on her wedding day if you’re too tired to walk or if you injured yourself. He won’t ever complain.

•he definitely will spoil you.

•I feel like his love language would be acts of service, physical touch or gift giving—not really receiving. He won’t ever turn down a gift from you, but he prefers to be the one giving the gift instead. He still lets you anyway.

•let us all never forget that Jason is definitely a hugger. I mean he tried hugging Nico until he realized he didn’t like hugs, and immediately backed up and apologized.

•because of this, if you happen to be like Nico, in the sense that you too don’t like hugs, he’ll back off and apologize to you, as well. Which brings me to the next headcanon:

•RESPECTFUL™!!! Must I elaborate farther??

•as for dates, he’s definitely the type to set up a picnic under the stars.

•for food served at your picnic date, I think Jason will ask Leo to help him make your favorite meal. It will end up turning out amazing because duh, Leo coached him!

•he’s definitely the type to date for marriage, and I think he’ll know very quickly if he wants to marry and settle down with you. I mean, he was already imagining a future with Piper not long after they began dating, sooooo.

•also to go with that one, he definitely already has money laid aside for your engagement ring.

•on another note, I can see Jason letting you try on his glasses. He will definitely comment on how he thinks you look better with them on then him.

•so. many. compliments!!

•expect a bouquet of flowers from the Demeter/Ceres cabin on your front steps of your house and/or cabin every month.

•little notes left by Jason with poems, reminders or words of affirmation will be all over your home/cabin.

•despite the challenges he faces with learning disabilities, I can see Jason being an huge reader, and I can see him reading all of you favorite books so he can sit down together to discuss things with you.

•encouragement in every single situation, good or bad.

•your well being and needs will ALWAYS come first, he even vowed it on the River Styx.

•if you have a fear of heights, he’ll for sure be down to help you overcome it. Keep in mind tho, he won’t ever push you into facing it until you’re ready.

•if you’re afraid of thunder and/or storms in general, he will be definitely down to cuddle to make you feel better. Tho he has some control over thunderstorms, he wouldn’t be strong enough to go up against his dad (also only one with a death wish would be willing to go up against Zeus), so cuddles and distraction is the only way for him to help you.

anyways, overall, Jason is 10/10 husband materiel!!

[awbublie]

wait my mc lore just dropped 🙀🙀

mc lore is here >.< fret not!!

they are a glorified self-insert i am shameless and will insert myself into my favorite media!!!

though she isn't a complete rip-off of me, maybe like 60% me

though i do love napco figurines

(edit: im so stupid and thought mx stood for mexican😭😭😓)

relationship charts!!!

caught mc on a good day!:

essentially means mc got a higher score than 60 on a test and just got a sweet treat.

feeling like contributing to society, she helps this rando return a phone.

seven:

both work with computers, he's just levels ahead of them.

inferiority complex kicks in til he starts helping her with assignments and omg im in love with this man.

likes his jokes and his robots are sooooo cool, "you think you can make one look like this? :3" insert image

calls him so he can practice his english and she can practice her korean.

the flirty banter really kicks up and they get their hopes up

gets butthurt day 8 when he turns them down.

jaehee:

desperate for female friends mc is overly-sweet and clingy.

jaehee is overwhelmed and explains in order for them to be proper friends time is needed.

they are now bonding over coffee beans and how mc brought some from her last Mexico trip

i WANT THEM TO LIVE TOGETHER SO BAD

yoosung:

misses her siblings so he's the closest to a little brother.

finds out guys don't typically like that when you tell them that, especially if they are older.

they make up and bond over their no-life life

trains in LOLOL for the next couple days bc DANG IT SHE WILL PLAY IN HIS LOBBYS!!!!

share shoujo recs

zen:

when he flirts at first, her heart flutters.

till jaehee gives her the warning, and atp jaehees word is bible

finds him silly but like in a older man kind of way

finds his costumes interesting and asks about the type of fabrics they use

during 707 route, she leans into the whole big sister zen and LOVES IT

jumin:

not too big with rich people and was quick to form an opinion

finds out ab Elizabeth and everything that they had thought gets thrown out the window WHAT A NICE MAN!

til shes asking about the area and he says something along the lines of "why move to a country you know nothing about? You are simply asking to fail. "

YEAH HES RIGHT BUT HE DIDNT HAVE TO SAY THATTT 😭😭😭

is bitter for the next 2 days before she gets over it

caught mc on a bad day!:

felt with the daddy issues (we cannot control our fathers we have nothing to do with our father's errors they do not define what we do or who we become we can disagree with them and still love them)

the professor was moving too quickly during class, her computer was working, she fell behind and her brain is fried. it feels like it's been happening more and more....honestly it feels easier just to rot in bed sleeping.

getting a random message just worsens her mood. "i cant even help myself and im supposed to help you?" rolling over to try to make sense of the class notes.

saeran:

got kidnapped and had their laptop open

"you follow me on github?"

mc BEGS for him to teach them everything he knows

ends up becoming an intern and moving their classes online

but wait...this guy is lwk kinda cute....

and he's taking the time to teach me??? >.<

blind to their situation mc follows instructions and fufills small tasks

saeran gives her badge "ID:10T"

cleaning his code to filling up the office waterbottle, all in payment for bootcamp-saeran™

V:

reminds her of a teacher she had once, ick

finds him to be kind of a doormat, but so is she

doesn't enjoy seeing how others might view her

(707 route bc i forgot to mention him there) can't help but feel sorry for him, she may not trust him but i mean cmon they can't help but feel bad dude lost his fiance and now seems like he can't keep his life together

rika:

again, desperate for female friends, but this one IS SO DIFFERENT

this is like when you make eye contact with someone of a similar group and you kinda expect automatic friendship but they are cold to you

mc is either ignorant of mint eyes operations or is slowly being indoctrinated, they don't meet rika very often.

they form a kind of bitterness towards her, rooted in her insecurities

"how can someone be so loved?" "how can someone just 'create' a world of their own" "whats so special about her, i'd be able to do something like that too"

by only hearing of her through saeran they feel so insignificant to her influence, it weakens them

[starcurtain]

I wish everyone collectively understood aventurine’s character like you…things would be so much easier! I genuinely don’t understand how people keep getting his motivations wrong??? Could it be because some of the most popular Aven fanfics were written prior to his release? That could have contributed to some of the takes we tend to see about him…thoughts?

I struggled all day to come up with a concise way to answer this and couldn't think of one, so here, have a long-winded ramble:

I don't think early fic writers have much impact in the situation with Aventurine's character now, since most people can look at when a story was posted and go "Oh, this was before we had ____ information."

I think that Aventurine's problem is being a male character in a gacha game. Gacha game characters are designed to sell. Hoyo can sell female characters very, very easily. Give her huge tits and a visible underwear strap and you're good to go. I love all my guy friends, but I'm not gonna sugarcoat it: straight men are not the hardest audience to please. Hit a particular fetish (feet, spandex, dommy mommy), and you're gucci.

Nah, we all know why Jade's trailer is Like That.™

Male characters in gacha are harder to sell because women as consumers are a little harder to predict. Does every woman want a tall, ripped hunk? Shit, no, small cute boyish models like Aventurine are selling better now? Why?! Would a bad boy be more popular than a nice guy??? It's harder to account for women's tastes, especially because they are often (a little) less visually-oriented.

Hoyo is good at what they do though, and they've figured out that male characters sell very well when they possess at least one of two specific traits:

Endearing vulnerability/helplessness

Gay ship tease

Give a character both, like Aventurine? They might as well be printing money.

That sound you hear is Hoyo's stock prices rising.

So, from the very beginning, Hoyo is incentivized to create a character that appeals to people, a character people will want to crack their wallets open for. And they achieved this, first and foremost, by giving Aventurine traits that female players (in particular, but men too), find especially appealing: emotional and physical vulnerability.

We see Aventurine's pain. We sympathize with his grief. We identify with his struggle to make meaning of his difficult life. He's our woobie, blorbo, babygirl, whatever the hell they're calling it now.

He can't hide his suffering anymore. He's on the very edge. He's a dude in distress. He's surrounded by enemies! He misses his mama! He's been betrayed! No one understands him like you do, dear player!

The ultimate feeling evoked is: He needs to be saved.

When people talk about male power fantasies, I think they forget that women can experience them too, and "Emotionally vulnerable man that only I (or my favorite character) can fix" is actually a female power fantasy.

And from there it's really easy, right: the people who shell out cash to buy warps for their harmed-husbando feel like they've saved him; the people who are into mlm ships look for the nearest hot dude to be the savior Ratio was waiting for his time lol.

Morally and intellectually, this type of deep-down-golden-hearted, emotionally-wounded male character is very easy to digest. There is nothing to dislike about this type of character or role in the story: this character is a good guy who has just gone through so many terrible situations, whose victim status makes him endearing, and whose lack of agency means that any of the questionable or downright bad things he does are always the result of someone else forcing his hand, and never something he would have chosen himself.

His motivations are always clear and consistent: get free, heal, and live happily ever after.

Insert the Wreck-It Ralph meme: "Do people assume all your problems got solved when a big strong man showed up?" But to be fair, a big strong man did kind of solve Aventurine's problem, so--

Anyway, it's simple. It's straightforward. Morally, it's pretty cut and dry, black and white: Aventurine is our hero, which means everyone dictating the course of his miserable life is evil.

Hoyo is not remotely discouraging people from literally buying into this emotional appeal.

And trust me, I get it. I'll be the first to admit that hurt-comfort is its own entire genre in fandom because it is so appealing. People eat up Aventurine's tragic backstory like candy! The idea of watching a character go through hell at the hands of bad guys just to finally find a happy end is like the definition of everyone's favorite story.

In fact... people love Aventurine's suffering so much, they have invented whole new ways for him to suffer that aren't even in the game.

This is where we get all the headcanons that Aventurine was a sex slave, every single person he meets hates him because of his race, the Stonehearts are executioners holding knives to his throat, Jade enslaved him to the IPC with a lifelong contract, his material possessions belong to the company, the IPC is forcing him to take only the most dangerous missions where he is being required by his evil jailers to continually put his life on the line... You name it and I promise you, I can find a fanfic where Aventurine suffers from it. 😂

Bro can't even sleep in on his day off; life is so hard for this man.

Being serious: if the game is telling us that Aventurine is a victim... Why not make him the perfect victim?

Why not envision an Aventurine with no freedom, who bears no responsibility for any of the horrible situations he is in or any of the dubious things he does?

It's so natural to like that version of Aventurine, so appealing to see a totally powerless underdog use his own wits and charms to claw his way up to freedom. Or, if you're the kind who really relishes angst: It's even appealing to see Aventurine lose more. To delight in fics where he loses his wealth, where the IPC punishes him for past crimes while he's powerless to stop them... (I assure you, this is many people's cup of tea and the fanfics prove it!)

Ultimately, there's nothing wrong with liking characters who are exactly this straightforward! It's completely fine to embrace characters that are intentionally written to be morally above-board, whose primary role in the story is to generate angst by being a good person who suffers, or those characters who never show unlikable traits, bad decisions, or contradictory actions.

The problem is that that's just not who the game is telling us Aventurine is.

Hoyo may be capitalizing off people who love to envision poor Aventurine still living his life as a slave... But the game also needs to tell a complicated enough story overall to appeal to people who don't care about this specific husbando--Aventurine's role in the actual game's plot has to be interesting enough for almost everyone to appreciate it, not just Aventurine's simp squad. (Don't get mad, I'm in the simp squad with you.)

So his character doesn't stop at just being a pure-hearted victim who is still waiting to be saved.

Aventurine is not that easy to label, and I think the biggest struggle in this character's fandom right now is between people who prefer the even-more-angsty, still-a-slave Aventurine versus people who want a morally grey, self-destructive character instead.

To me personally, while I greatly understand the appeal of fanon!Aventurine and the joy of a really juicy angst fic where characters lose it all, I think that missing out on the depth that canon is suggesting would be a real loss on the fandom's part.

The character motivations that Aventurine shows in the game are complicated. They cancel each other out. They're basically self-harm! He makes almost every situation he's in worse for himself--on purpose.

He is a good person, but also a person who has done unspeakable things. He does have morals, but he's not above allowing those who don't have them to use him to their advantage.

He's both the victim and the victor. He's his own worst enemy. He's a lost little boy who's been making terrible decisions for himself since he was like eight years old, and a grown ass man who is barely managing to fake his way through an existence that destiny is not letting him quit.

This kind of character is a lot harder to embrace. He's done things that most people would find appalling--like willingly joining up with the organization that let his entire race be massacred. He's invented a whole new peacock persona to frivolously flaunt riches he doesn't even care about (Poison Dart Frog Self-Defense 101). He actively plays into racist stereotypes about his people to manipulate others through their preconceived expectations. He's made a mockery of his mother's and sister's hopes and dreams by endlessly trying to throw his own life away.

He has flaws! He bet everything he had on a ploy without doing his homework to find out if the people he was risking his life for were even still around. (Maybe he already knew, and couldn't bear to admit it, even to himself.) He's intentionally off-putting and obnoxious to everyone he meets (Poison Dart Frog Self-Defense 102). He terrifies everyone who gets close to him by (seemingly) carelessly throwing himself into the jaws of death without the slightest provocation.

He knowingly allows the IPC to exploit his power and talents for profit. Did everyone forget that his role in the Strategic Investment Department is asset liquidation?! Like, his actual day-to-day job is ruining people's lives. Canonically, Aventurine kills people when his deals go bad.

His motivations change off-screen in two lines of story text. We're told in one line that his biggest reason for joining the IPC was to make money to save the Avgin, then in the next line we find out that's impossible. And... then what? What motivations does he even have now? The whole point of his character arc from 2.0-2.1 is that he was on the edge of giving in to utter despair and nihilism because he couldn't even perceive a single reason to stay alive. He has no purpose in life before Penacony, and that didn't start with the Stonehearts at all??

People keep saying Aventurine was held in the IPC by golden handcuffs, but how do you tie down someone for whom profit is meaningless? What can you offer to a man whose only desire is to bring back something already lost forever? How do you imprison someone whose only definition of freedom is, canonically, death?

Working for the Stonehearts is obviously not healthy. But that's why Aventurine was doing it--because taking dangerous missions allowed him to put himself at risk. The job that he originally pursued hoping to save his people became a direct means to self-harm, and the IPC's only real role in that was just happily profiting off the results.

The journal entries for Aventurine's quests are there deliberately to tell the player what is on his mind, and none of it has to do with escaping from his job:

Like... Work is the least of this man's problems.

At really the risk of rambling on too long now, he's also just a massive walking contradiction:

Aventurine is among the most explicitly religious characters in the game, yet he's one of the only people in the entire game that we have ever seen actively question his people's aeon.

You might be tempted to think Aventurine's risky gambles with his life as an adult are a result of giving up after finding out about the Avgin massacre... Butttt no, Hoyo makes sure to tell us that even at knee-high in the Sigonian desert, Kakavasha was already willing to risk himself in a fight to the death against monsters because even back then he found his own life to have less value than a single memento.

He's the "chosen one" who will lead his people to prosperity... except they're all dead.

He's explicitly suicidal... andddd also a pathstrider of Preservation.

He wants to die... He doesn't want to die. He wants to make it end, yet goes to staggering lengths to continually survive. (Every plan risks his life on purpose--but every plan's win condition is also to live.) He life is the chip tossed down, but his hand is trembling beneath the table. When faced with an otherwise unsurvivable situation, Aventurine literally became a winner of the Hunger Games. He beat other innocent people to death with his own chain-bound hands just to come out alive.

He knows the IPC failed the Avgin and left them to die... and he still willingly sought out a position of power in their organization. Maybe he really is after revenge... but maybe not.

He starts his journey in the IPC with a truly noble goal in mind: to help his people using his newfound wealth and power. He's a good guy who did genuinely want to save the Avgin and repay all those who helped him. But once it became clear he was too late, once it was obvious he would have no use at all for that monetary wealth and power he risked his life to get... What did he do with it? Unlike Jade, we don't see him over here donating to orphanages. (I'm not that heartless; I'm sure he does actually do a lot of good things with his money on the side, but the point is that the game does not show us that--it shows us, over and over again, Aventurine putting on a wasteful, over-indulgent persona toward wealth. We've supposed to feel how meaningless money is to him, how meaningless everything is becoming to him.)

He outright refuses to use underhanded tactics or to cheat at gambles, which is meant to show us that's he's more morally upright than his coworkers. There's an entire exchange where he says that he'll never stoop to using manipulation the way Opal does. But... he doesn't have any issue fulfilling Opal's exact agenda. He was never remotely morally conflicted about denying the Penaconians their freedom by dragging Penacony back under IPC control.

He's willing to risk his own life, which is one thing--but he's also willing to risk other people's well-being. Topaz accuses him of constantly egging their clients on into dangerous situations; we've actively seen him shove a gun into Ratio's hands and pull the trigger with no care for how Ratio would feel about that on their very first meeting... Dragging the Astral Express crew into the entire Penacony plan in the first place was exceedingly dangerous...

To me, I just think it's vital to understand his character through the lens of these contradictions because they demonstrate the extreme polarity of Aventurine's life: from rags to riches, from powerless to empowered by multiple aeons, from willing to kill to survive to killing himself... He has quite literally lived a life of "all or nothing," and while he is the victim of many terrible situations out of his control, his arc as a character involves facing the truth of himself and the future his own actions are hurtling him toward.

Frankly, the Aventurine that canon is suggesting is a little annoying. You want to grab him by the shoulders, shake him, and say "Why are you like this?!" And he won't even have an answer for you, because he doesn't even know why he's still alive.

In the end, to me, this is so, so much more interesting. I can read an endless supply of hurt-comfort fics where Aventurine escapes the evil IPC and Ratio is there to fill the void in his life with the power of love and catcakes and be a perfectly happy clam online, but I want canon to continue to serve us this incredible mess of a man who constantly takes one step forward and two steps back.

Who is fully aware of his role as a cog in the grotesque profit-wheel of cosmic capitalism and still manages to say he never changed from the rags-wearing desert rat of the Sigonian wastes.

Who over and over again flirts with nihility but, ultimately, even if he has to wrest it from the grip of the gods themselves with bloody, chain-bound hands, chooses life.

[cursingtoji]

I'm crying these cliches are so cute!! I think Denji with kissing under the rain + wet transparent shirt (he'd totally stare) + taking care of him while sick, would be very cute!!

𝑾𝒆𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕 ✧ 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒂𝒊𝒏 ✧ 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒎 ┊the perfect combo so far?? thank so much for joining 🧡 The Clichés ™

Denji stood outside the Public Safety building where you were supposed to meet him for a mission assigned by your superiors, Denji was totally fine by your delay, it gave him time to psychologically prepare for being alone with his crush.

The forecast said it would rain but Tokyo was under a downpour since morning.

“Denji!” you came running and waving, no umbrella, nothing to cover you except your own hand above your forehead so you could see your path.

Denji waved back but he froze when you got closer and he could see how the white shirt of your uniform was glued to your skin, precisely to your boobs and the way it bounced with your seemly simple pink bra as you jogged in his direction. Did he just die? Are you an angel?

He could hear your voice and something about having your umbrella stolen when you went to a public bathroom, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off your chest, it looked to soft and he wondered what would be like laying down on them.

“…Denji?” you snapped your fingers on his face, “What’s wrong?”

Denji limited himself to just point down at your chest.

“Oh, good thing I’m wearing a bra today” you whispered like a secret and Denji felt steam was about to blow out of his ears like a cartoon, “Let’s go, there’s a convenient store on the other side of the avenue, we just need to cross that bridge. You’re okay with taking some rain, right Denji?” you laced your arm with his and he gasped feeling your plump chest against his arm.

Teasing Denji was very fun, but when you were in the middle of the uncovered bridge drenched to the skin and spotted your superior Kishibe coming from the opposite side you dropped your act.

“Uhm Denji? Maybe we should go back…” you crossed your arms to cover your chest.

Denji got confused at your sudden behaviour change and then he spotted the old man approaching under his umbrella while the two of you looked like abandoned dogs. Denji had more than just hots for you, and that meant he wanted to protect you from embarrassment, so he quickly moved to be in front of you, shielding your body.

“You kids are going to get sick” Kishibe declared looking down at the two of you.

“Her umbrella was stolen” Denji explained and you looked at your superior from above Denji’s shoulder.

“In the metro station toilet” you added.

“What about you, Denji?” Kishibe asked.

“I never had one, I usually just put a jacket on my head” the young boy confessed without any embarrassment scratching his neck.

“Gosh, here” Kishibe pulled his wallet and a thousand yen bill of it handing it to Denji, “Buy yourselves an umbrella and a warm drink” he resumed his path as you thanked him and watched as he disappeared on the corner.

“Hey, wanna buy fried chicken instead?” Denji held the sides of the bill excited, “Oh it’s getting wet” he noticed and put away in his pocket.

You were still at a lost of words for how quick the blond was to read the situation and protect your honour, so you didn’t hesitate in pulling him down by his tie and lock lips.

Denji only realized what was happening when your warm wet lips were already pressing on his cold ones. The rain keep falling around you as you nibbled on his bottom lip.

“Thank you, Denji, you’re really sweet” you whispered with the tips of your noses touching, Denji slowly opened his eyes noticing the droplets sitting on your eyelashes, “Let’s get fried chicken… and a coffee, you could use it” you took his hand holding it in hopes to warm it up a bit.

Maybe he did die and this was what heaven was like.

“We have a problem” Aki said when you answered his call. Twenty minutes later you were in his apartment knocking and asking if everyone was okay since he didn’t give you much information. “He’s your problem now, there’s medicine in the bathroom cabinet” Aki opened the door in his uniform already leaving for work as Power followed him.

“I made soup” she informed.

“That’s boiled egg water, please throw it away” Aki yelled climbing down the stairs.

“Denji?” you called softly finding him in the couch with a heavy blanket and a very red nose.

“I’m dying, help” he mumbled and you leaned to touch his forehead.

“Oh my god, you’re burning” you squatted to be on his eye level, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you walk on the rain with me that day.”

“It was worth it” he admitted with a nasal voice due to his stuffed nose.

“Come on, let’s remove those blankets before you combust” you started to pull but he held to them whining about feeling cold, “You had the fever meds yet?” he nodded, “Then how about that: you lose the blankets and I let you lay down on my chest.” Denji pretended to think, but in reality it took him less than two seconds to kick out his blankets.

“Totally worth it” he murmured having his hair played with on top of the softest pillow ever.

See also: Sexual Tension — Aki 🔞

[babextoken]

let your feelings slip, boy, but never your mask

⟡˙⋆ chapter 2

warning: inferences to sexual harassment of the reader by another male character pairing: vessel x fem!reader summary:  vessel's determination to mind his business is ruined by your presence wc: 2k head's up: series, slowish burn, enemies to lovers, coworkers, plus size reader, rude!vessel, creeper behavior from Vessel, possibly demi!vessel, inferences to sexual harassment, whump, blood, fist fight, hurt/comfort, sexual tension while cleaning wounds 𓈒⟡₊⋆∘˚⊹ Situation Enjoyers™: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga @adenobabe  @jeriiicho @milk--bones  @myaudiocommentary  @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @killed-by-thegods @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi  @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder  @evisnotok @cheomain @chaosandchaos @object-of-my-desire @dreamer-lost-in-wonderland @blvckmvgicwoman @canopies-of-gold-and-evergreen @thewayyoulay @houseofsleeptoken @jerrysghostwriter @music-lover23 @renegadebirch @blackcherrywhiskey

recommended listening:

Your expression when you apologized to Vessel haunted him. Objectively, you deserved to be called out. But why did you look like you were 10 years old, folding for mummy, or perhaps worse, your current age, trying to avoid a man’s hand? Vessel’s idle thought of “who made her like this” ends very quickly. He does not have time to wonder about a coworker, much less you. 

Vessel prided himself on work-life separation, even going so far as training himself to not think about work the second he hopped on the train home. Sure he might see a coworker out and about, but that was it. Work was work, and Vessel’s time was his own…until you showed up. You and your ability to both charm customers and then become the most petulant little thing the second they left. When you weren’t in, he causally dropped hints that you annoyed him greatly, thought something was a little off about you. But your coworkers wouldn’t engage. “She’s never been like that with me, what are you on about, Ves?” was always the response. So he did what any student of life would do: watching you. 

When the store was quiet and there were one or two other coworkers with you and Vessel, he would separate from the group. “Straighten the popular titles.” Run some reports (which ones? Uh…requests? He didn’t know. He just knew some people ran reports and damnit he could say he was doing it too). Eventually he’d find a spot to watch from…see you act like a completely different person. You were warm with the rest of the team. You asked questions. The first time he noticed this, Vessel felt his fists clenching into tight little balls of fury. And a first time begets a second. And a third. And then as many as it takes to become routine. This job allows Vessel to make his music on the side, it keeps him going. But you and your ability to overshare and yet say absolutely nothing at the same time grates on him. The idea that you think you’re so great that you can deny Vessel’s the “pleasure” of knowing you taints his every waking thought.

Everyone else figured he had some special project to work on but no, he kept roosting somewhere like a bird of prey waiting for old livestock to die. He was so sure, so poised for the next time he saw you act so outrageously against form, so…contrary to the work culture (he was grasping at straws), that he’d grab you and yell, “you liar, you two faced skank, I need this now GET OUT.”

A crash. When you looked over, you saw Vessel repositioning the cardboard standees for the newest superhero franchise, one with a Vessel’s-shoe-shaped-dent at the bottom. 

“Ya ok?” You call out lamely.

“Just great. Taking my 15.” 

Ves cared too much about his voice to start smoking but the built-in breaks were looking mighty appealing right now. As he sat against the brick wall on this particular day he felt completely exhausted. He wasn’t sleeping well. For weeks on end it was the Sisyphean nightmare of sleeplessness ->accomplish a lot of good work on the EP in the middle of the night-> realize it’s not his best effort -> attempt to sleep and start anew -> have yet another brain-breaking wet dream about you. 

For all intents and purposes Vessel didn’t want sexual feelings. Not because he was asexual, not because he was trying to be stoic and straight edge, he just didn’t want them. Sexual feelings, the motivation to act on them, lead to distraction and perhaps heartache. When people pressed he grew angry--“Ves, bring your guitar to the party, man, you’ll be fighting off pussy left right and center!” No. No no no no no. He didn’t want to. What’s so wrong with that? Getting off alone was just fine. Let me just take care of my business, thank you very much. Honestly, that’s part of the reason he took it so weirdly when you hit on him. He doesn’t need that kind of companionship and he’s finally silenced the part of him that says “hey man, you might not REQUIRE sex and love and closeness, but there’s nothing wrong with just wanting it!” All that hard work and then you happen. 

When Vessel comes back from clearing his head, he notices the guy you were flirting with is back. It’s been awhile since that night when he first came in, maybe a month or two. He comes in a lot and always wants to talk to you. But today something was off. Ves knew it before he even saw the guy, he just saw you making prolonged, intentional eye contact with him. When Ves joined you at the checkout counter, you excused yourself from the guy.

“Ves, before I forget, I need you to tell me again about that training.”

Training? What fucking training? Vessel had half a mind to lose his shit, thinking he forgot a training. Instead he’d uphold workplace standards and be COOL (a curious, open-minded, and observant listener that is. He wanted to throw up where he stood). “I…don’t remember what training you’re talking about.” He’s never felt so confused in his life, mainly because you’re being….normal with him? You grit your teeth in a nervous, queasy smile. Oh. As if someone has said “blink twice if you aren’t safe,” you start batting your lashes with intent, your hands shaking where the guy can’t see. “Oh yeah, yeah, right. That training. The training..we…have to do. I’ll check him out,” Ves points to the guy, “and you go in the back and get the uh…uhm…manual or, whatever we need.” 

You don’t need telling twice. You scurry to the back, and the guy looks less than pleased. Ves goes through the motions of asking how he was and if he found everything alright. The guy just sniffs and says something to the effect of “I had before you walked up here.” It’s unlike him, but Vessel watches the guy get in his car and leave, not moving from the glass door of the store until he sees the guy go through the intersection. You come out of the back looking a little calmer, but blank.

“Thanks,” is all you that say. In fact, it’s all you say to him for the rest of the shift unless a customer comes in, but it’s a slow night for some reason, so Vessel doesn’t get ammo to use against you. You say nothing contrarian. Nothing annoying. Just nothing. 

He actually sleeps that night. No dreams. He doesn’t even think he moved, waking up in the same position he settled in after he turned off the light. And for a while, his nights are like this. Quiet. The EP gets closer to being done. He’s proud. Work doesn’t seep into his mind when he’s not there. And when he is there, he gives you a tight smile, which you barely return, and the shift goes on. The world still spins.

One night he’s closing with you, Vessel actually feels talkative. It’s like your first shift all over again. He’s talking. He’s dominating part of the conversation…but you don’t join in. In fact, you look worse for wear. It’s as if you and Vessel were sharing custody of twin demeanors: this time Vessel had the talkative, happy-go-lucky silly billy and you had the fatigued, sullen, isolated one. And you know what? Vessel felt ok with that. ‘Hah. I’m the adjusted one!’ But when the other coworkers leave because they simply do not need 4 people closing, Vessel doesn’t feel keen to keep talking, or even to gloat. The issue of who will take out the trash comes up again. You are insistent. Almost fiendish when you tell him you’re taking the trash out tonight. 

“Fine. Knock yourself out,” he says with some mirth. But when you’re not back at an appropriate time, he worries a little…that is until he sees your favorite customer’s car in the carpark. Oh here it is. The moment we’ve all been waiting for. With an evil smirk, he walks out to the back of the store ready to bust you giving head in the alley while on the job. Vessel would be the judge, jury, and executioner tonight and he could not…

“I said you need to leave me the fuck alone. I don’t want to do this with you here or anywhere anymore.”

His stomach drops.

“Oh, I don’t think I will, pet.” That time it was the customer. The guy. His voice was rough, breathy, like he was….oh fuck no. 

Vessel busts through the cracked back door and feels every ounce of his blood boil. His bones turn to steel—not to stay put but to crush. To destroy. One might say this was a private moment, but it was Vessel’s business. “Get off her.”

The guy huffs and looks over at Vessel, his hot breath fanning out over his arm that cages you against the grimy wall. “Was just telling her you seemed like a pervy big brother type…you wanna watch?”

Vessel is not of this world. One moment he is on the stairs watching this scum bag attempt to lift your shirt, and the next he feels the pervert’s leather jacket clad shoulder in one hand…and then there’s the pain. The sharp intake as teeth cut into the tender, wet flesh of one’s mouth. The growl that emanates from Vessel is…horrifying. Especially when blood drips down his chin and shirt. You hope to never hear it again, along with the huffs and sloshing sounds of the man’s mouth lolling open as Vessel lands his own punch on him. Vessel stops and holds the man close to whisper in his ear. You can’t make out what he said, but the man looks horrified. Piss-your-pants scared. He tells you and Vessel to fuck off, staggering to his car. 

The store should have been long closed when you both get back inside. Vessel sported a split lip that desperately needed attention. He calms himself in the break room when you approach with a wet rag. You get ready to press it to his lip before stopping and chuckling softly. 

“Obviously you can take care of yourself. Sorry—“

“No.” He whispers shakily but stares blankly…almost sternly. “You’ll do it for me.” 

You gulp and obey. The cold, drenched paper towel makes him wince. Tears fill his eyes but he stares into yours like he has something to prove. The bleeding stopped but the wound looked raw and painful. Perhaps it was a good thing the boy never smiled at you because otherwise his lip might never heal. “You should probably put some…I don’t know…Vaseline on there.”

“Did I do good for you?”

“What?”

“Did. I. Do. Good? Simple question.” He sniffles and swallows back his tears. “Gotten myself all fucked up haven’t I?”

“V, what the fuck are you on about?” You suddenly feel entrapped. The captive audience for his comedown from the adrenaline.

“Just…answer the fucking question,” he seethes.

You put your hands up in surrender. “Yes. I wish you hadn’t gotten yourself hurt, but yeah. You did good.”

He takes in a deep breath that seems almost pleasurable to him. His tongue darts over the wound and a small smirk plays at his lips. “Did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“Being defended. Having…someone stand up for you. Hiding behind me while I took the brunt. Go on. Admit it. Wasn’t it nice to have someone do that for you?”

Your stomach drops. You aren’t sure why. Fear? Anxiety? Arousal? Perhaps all of them. The adrenaline still coursed through your body but that energy wasn’t going towards fleeing. Did that mean you should be here? That this was supposed to happen. “Y…yeah. Yeah. I liked…not having to deal with it myself,” you reply meekly. 

“There’s a good girl. Happy someone has battle scars for you?”

“You’re sick.”

“And I intend to show you that you are, too.” You step back instinctively at his bold assertion but you notice that seemed to hurt him. Out of nervous habit, Ves bites his lip but winces. Yet another indication that he’s capable of human reactions. “I know what you are.”

As if in a mirror darkly, you both realized you had indeed met your match.

[bitemevanitas]

hcs on how does he act like when he’s jealous?

𝑽anitas 𝑬́tant 𝑱alouse

Fandom: The Case Study of Vanitas

Pairing: Jealous!Vanitas x Reader

Theme: Headcanons

Details: This was written as Fem!Reader, but can be read as GN!Reader ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Who (or what) does Vanitas get jealous of?

✦ Men who are taller than him

• He isn’t short, but he’s also not the tallest around.

• When someone significantly taller than him is standing near you, he starts brooding.

• If a man were to tower over him, he couldn’t help but feel irritated.

• What if you suddenly decided someone else could protect you better than him?

• He scowls at the mere thought.

• Will immediately start slouching less and making sure you remember he’s still strong enough to throw you over his shoulder if needed.

✦ Men who are more romantic than him

• Vanitas is many things: chaotic, smug, dramatic—but romantic? Not always.

• He flirts, sure, but he’s not the type to shower you in flowers or serenade you under the moonlight.

• When another one even dares to entertain such ideas, Vanitas’ mood sours instantly.

• He’ll scoff, call it "cheap theatrics," and throw in some sarcastic remark.

• When someone is effortlessly poetic and charming toward you, he scoffs.

• "What, you like all that sentimental drivel? I could do that. I just don’t want to."

• (He absolutely cannot do that.)

✦ Women who can wrap you around their finger

• He thrives in being your troublemaker, your bad influence, but when someone else—particularly a cunning woman—has you laughing, flustered, or easily swayed, he clenches his jaw.

• "So that’s your type? Someone effortlessly smooth? Should I start batting my lashes at you now?"

• It’s already frustrating enough when men catch your attention, but when a charming, confident woman manages to pull you in effortlessly, he grits his teeth.

• He’ll yank you away with some flimsy excuse, all while making a snide comment about how "some people" think they can win you over so easily.

✦ The stray cats you always run to on the street

• This is the stupidest source of jealousy, and yet it still happens.

• You see a cat? You’re gone.

• Vanitas is suddenly nonexistent to you.

• "Oh, yes, sure, give all your affection to the furball. It’s not like I’m standing right here."

• You’re supposed to be giving him that kind of affection.

• The way your face lights up, the way your voice softens as you coo at them—it gnaws at his nerves.

• He doesn’t hate cats, but when they steal your attention, he suddenly finds them incredibly annoying.

In what situations does he get jealous?

✦ When someone touches you even slightly too long

• A hand on your arm, a lingering gaze?

• He’s suddenly hovering nearby, an arm draped lazily over your shoulders.

• His smile? Too wide.

• His tone? Mockingly sweet.

• "Oh? Making new friends? How nice. ..Hope they know how to run fast."

• If someone else makes you laugh a little too hard.

• If you get lost in conversation with someone else and seem completely unaware of Vanitas’ presence.

• If someone touches you in any way that he deems too familiar—he’ll instantly slide between you and the offender.

Does he show his jealousy?

✦ The Petty King™

• He is so petty.

• Not even ashamed.

• You smiled at another guy?

• Oh, suddenly he has urgent business elsewhere.

• He will look at you dead in the eye, say:

• "I hope you and your new friend have a wonderful time together," and dramatically disappear into the night.

✦ Childish Retaliation

• If he’s feeling particularly insecure, he’ll flirt blatantly with others in front of you.

• Not because he wants to, but because he wants to see your reaction.

• (If you don’t react, his mood plummets.)

✦ The Passive-Aggressive Commentary

• "Oh, he’s tall? That’s nice. I’m sure he’s wonderful at reaching things. I, however, am wonderful at saving your life on a regular basis, but I guess that doesn’t matter."

✦ Glare Mode Activated

• The sheer, murderous aura radiating from him when someone is too close to you is nearly suffocating.

• If looks could kill, half of Paris would be dead.

• Vanitas is not the type to suffer in silence when it has to do sith you.

• His jealousy manifests in biting sarcasm, dramatic sighs, and sudden mood swings.

• "Ah, so he’s funny, is he? What an incredible sense of humor. Truly, a rare find."

• "By all means, don’t let me interrupt. Continue fawning over him, it’s so entertaining."

• He might even ignore you for a while, making you chase after him instead.

• But the moment you give him your full attention again?

• He acts like nothing ever happened.

Why does he get jealous?

✦ Severe abandonment issues

• Let’s be real, Vanitas doesn’t just get jealous because he’s possessive.

• It runs much deeper than that.

• He’s spent his life being rejected, used, and discarded.

• The idea of you—someone he actually lets close—choosing someone else over him? It gnaws at his very core.

✦ Once he’s attached, he’s attached

• He hates the idea of being dependent on anyone.

• He doesn’t want to need you.

• But the moment he does?

• He needs to be the center of your attention.

• He craves your presence more than he lets on, and the idea of you being too drawn to someone else? It unsettles him deeply.

Does he scare people off behind your back?

✦ A casual threat, disguised as a joke

• If someone is getting too comfortable with you, Vanitas grins at them.

• Not a friendly grin—a "step any closer and I’ll rearrange your limbs" kind of grin.

• "Oh, you’re interested in them? How fun. Say, how do you feel about heights?"

• Fabricating rumors for fun?

• Absolutely.

• He has whispered absurd, mildly terrifying things into people’s ears just to make them back off.

• "Did you know that every person who tried to court them mysteriously disappeared? Crazy, right?"

Pettiness Scale: 1 - 10?

✦ A solid 12.

• Will fake an injury just to make you fuss over him instead of someone else.

• Will sulk in a corner if you don’t pay attention to him.

• Will give the person making him jealous a very specific, smug smile that somehow conveys "I will end you."

How to cure his jealousy?

✦ Reassure him.

• He’ll never say it outright, but beneath all his teasing and arrogance, he’s deeply afraid of being left behind.

• A simple "You know I only have eyes for you, right?" can shatter his entire brooding phase.

✦ Physical affection.

• He thrives on casual touches.

• Run your fingers through his hair, squeeze his hand, pull him into a hug—and suddenly, he’s smug again.

• "Oh? So you do love me after all. Good, good. I was beginning to worry."

✦ Call him out.

• He’s dramatic.

• Unbelievably so.

• Sometimes, the best thing to do is just look at him and say "Are you seriously jealous of a cat?"

• He will deny it.

• (He is absolutely jealous of the cat.)

✦ Play into it.

• If he’s sulking and you really want to fluster him, grab his face, kiss him senseless, and say "Feeling better now?"

• Watch him short-circuit.

• And if you really want to melt his jealousy away?

• Just look him in the eye and say, "You’re the only one I need."

Final Thoughts

Vanitas is a handful, but let’s be real—he’s your handful. His jealousy might be petty, dramatic, and sometimes downright ridiculous, but at the end of the day, it’s because he cares.

He just needs a little reassurance (and maybe fewer stray cats stealing your attention).

.

.

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