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ravengards-rogue · 3 months

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WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.

rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.

ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.

✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+

✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)

✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover

sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.

sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ;

It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur.

Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun.

Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him.

He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate.

So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy.

You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures.

(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )

When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember.

Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him.

So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain.

In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down.

He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something.

Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while.

Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately.

Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you.

(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)

Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish.

Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting.

He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit.

Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs.

“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,”

“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,”

“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,”

You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.

“One of these days, that moutha’ yours is gonna get me in real trouble.”

You giggle back at him

“What kinda trouble is that now?”

Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice.

“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.”

Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;

John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly.

Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn.

Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted.

On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it.

John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily.

Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.

Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show.

So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp.

Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms.

You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine.

(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that.

You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.)

You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did.

Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it. It was just all too easy again, to be with you.

You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family.

But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see. Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.

It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street.

Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy. John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you.

But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you.

There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision.

You might turn him into a literate man yet.

John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life.

Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself.

Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.

It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck.

“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?”

You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you.

“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,”

John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.

His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat.

“John,”

What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.”

“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,”

“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,”

“A foolish one,”

John laughs.

“I sure do love you for it,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;

Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving.

It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get. He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently.

Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.

(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.)

His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters.

Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living.

It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is) loyal to Dutch. To the gang.

He hadn’t thought much about what comes after.

And it didn’t matter until he met you

He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long.

But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time. He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about.

You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around.

You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen. If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing.

(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.)

When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit.

From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would.

When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d never find again.

That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves.

Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too.

For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.

You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you.

Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him.

“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him. You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,”

He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it’s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease. All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.

His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides. You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space.

He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words.

“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.”

Darling as you always are, you nod softly.

“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ;

Wandering.

He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on.

There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly.

There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains.

He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few.

The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it.

Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list.

Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.

You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are.

The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him.

It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some.

It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you. And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything.

But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not.

He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss.

For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars.

Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze.

You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks.

“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,”

He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,”

“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?”

“Well, I’m not fine with it.”

You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?”

“Please, what?”

You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.”

Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life. “Yeah, that’s good to hear.”

You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto.

You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head.

“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,”

His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires.

When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.

But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you.

Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed.

“Kiss?”

Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”

Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #javier escuella x reader #charles smith x reader #rdr2 x reader #rogues love letters #red dead redemption 2 x reader #THIS IS THE LAST TIME. THE LAST FUCKING TIME !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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sanatomis · 2 months

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⋆.ೃ࿔* ── 𝐃𝐈𝐘-𝐃𝐀𝐃!

it’s career day, and megumi has to bring his dad to school so he can tell the class about his job. the problem? he only has a 20-year-old sorcerer-guardian who has the brain capacity of a walnut.

content. canon divergence (suguru’s alive and studying to be a kindergarten teacher), possible ooc characters, female!reader.

notes. guys i’m a sucker for satoru who really, really tries and isn’t just a goofy man-child ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ also ! thank you all for your patience, it took me a while to finish this piece bc of uni, so i'm vv happy it's finally done <3

taglist. | masterlist.

“I don’t have a dad.”

As cruel as it may be, a part of Megumi hopes that the sentence makes his teacher greatly uncomfortable. Demanding for a father to attend a Career Day at school simply isn’t fair to children without one—or, well, to the child without one. It’s not his fault his father hauled ass and left, so why is she making this so difficult for him?

“Oh,” she mumbles. It seems his arrow hit the target, as her eyebrows pull together in a frown and she shifts her weight between her feet. “Well, you, uh, have a male guardian, don’t you?”

Megumi grimaces. Instantly, he thinks back to last week. Satoru Gojo, self-proclaimed strongest, had hit his head on a kitchen cabinet. With a dramatic pout and an overexaggerated wobble to his lips, he clung to you for hours. Some affection will make it all better!

Of course, when Megumi criticised his skills surrounding his infinity technique—because, really, how couldn’t it block a simple cabinet—the sorcerer opted to ignore him. He suspects there was some foul play at hand.

“Barely,” he mutters, as the memory resurfaces.

His teacher lets out a startled hum. “I’m sorry?”

“Nothing,” Megumi says quickly. He watches as she starts typing on her computer, and the realisation that she’s probably currently taking a look at his file isn’t a particularly welcome one. “What about my other guardian? Can I bring her, instead?”

“This event is geared towards fathers,” she explains. It’s obvious she forgot her reading glasses today, Megumi thinks, as she needs to narrow her eyes to read the screen in front of her. “I have one Satoru Gojo noted down as your male guardian. Surely, he will be able to attend.”

Megumi pauses. He blinks up at her expressionlessly, and fights off the urge to push his teacher down a well. You often preach about being kind to others, and that wouldn’t be very kind.

“Can’t I take my oth—”

“I’m afraid not,” she interrupts him before he even gets the sentence out. It irks him. Megumi isn’t fond of speaking to begin with, so when he does, he’d prefer not to be cut off halfway through. “An exception will not be made. Please, make sure to bring Gojo-san to school.”

Megumi briefly, and for the very first time ever, mourns the fact that you and Satoru weren’t married. A small part of him calls the man a coward for not asking you to. If he’d simply taken the step, then Megumi would be able to pass you off as Gojo-san. Unfortunately, he can’t, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that there’s no way around this problem.

“Fine,” he grumbles. It takes all of his remaining willpower to not stomp out of the classroom. Once again, he thinks of you. It’d be extremely bad manners. He can’t find it in himself to wish his teacher a nice day this time, though, and so she’ll have to make due with a slightly less polite Megumi for today.

There’s nothing he can do about it. Satoru will have to come to the school.

Megumi suddenly despises the idea of Career Day.

“I need you to come to my school next week.”

Immediately, all chatter around the dining table stops. For once, Megumi finds himself annoyed at the sudden appearance of silence. Before he said it, he knew his words would most likely have such an effect—he just didn’t expect it to be so instant.

He tries his best to feign nonchalance, as if the topic that’s coming up didn’t make him feel stressed-out beyond belief. The confused, startled glances you and Satoru share don’t do much to help him, either. Perhaps it’s because Megumi is looking straight at him; him instead of you. Yeah, Satoru, he isn’t a fan of it, either.

“Me?” The man asks then, and Megumi has to resist the urge to say, ‘no, I meant the snail in the backyard—yes, you,’ in the most sarcastic voice he can muster up. Satoru once again steals a look at you, ever so oblivious to Megumi's mental remarks. “Don’t you mean—”

“I don’t,” Megumi cuts him off solemnly. His lips are pursed shut, and he pokes the slices of pork belly in his bowl with his chopsticks. One didn’t need to be of particularly high intelligence to notice the boy’s displeasure. “I have to bring a male figure for Career Day.”

It’s slow, the morphing of Satoru’s face, but it happens gradually and doesn’t stop until he’s positively beaming. Megumi doesn’t like it one bit. Nothing good happens when he looks like that, and he’s quite sure that all that will spew out of his mouth in a few seconds will be nothing except for pure nonsense.

“Well, luckily, I will have the day off, then!” Satoru chimes, with a smile so wide it causes two dimples to appear on his cheeks. You copy his smile, and gently go to poke the little dent in his skin—Satoru lets you, as he always does. Megumi would think of it as cute if he weren’t so annoyed. “I will be there.”

It seems he was right. Satoru’s words are pure nonsense.

“I didn’t tell you when,” he comments dryly.

The sorcerer blinks. His smile is still on his face, but it’s fading, and the dimples do so with it. Your hand hovers halfway in the air, stuck with nothing to poke, and you slowly bring it back down to your side. It seems neither of you had taken time to think about that small fact—Megumi blames Satoru for dragging you down with him; him and those indentations in his cheek that you always seem to coo over.

“Oh,” Satoru mumbles. A crease between his brows forms as his brain hurries to catch up with the newfound information. A few seconds pass, and then the previous bravado returns. “Well, it doesn’t matter! I can take the day off. When do you need me? Tell me, and I’ll be there.”

Megumi very much doubts he can take days off all willy-nilly like that, especially after he pushed his workload onto someone else to attend his science fair last time, but then again, what does he know? If Satoru didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, then Megumi wasn’t about to break his own head doing so, either.

“Next Friday,” he mumbles. From the tone of his voice, it’s quite clear that he’d rather be saying anything else. “We have to leave at eight a.m., please, be on time.”

“Sure thing!” Satoru chimes, and with that, Megumi thinks the dreaded conversation has finally come to an end.

All in all—it could’ve gone worse. At least Satoru didn’t prolong it unnecessarily. Nor did he add a bunch of relentless teasing. He glances at the sorcerer. Satoru is happily munching on the dinner you’d prepared, both his cheeks stuffed full with entirely too much rice. It’s unbecoming, and a reflection of his poor manners, Megumi thinks, and he doesn’t understand how you look at the man with such hearts in your eyes.

Though, your more than adequate cooking seems to have saved him from one of Satoru’s onslaughts. He’s grateful. Even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy the sight in front of him.

“Hey, ‘toru?” You ask, breaking the silence with a slight hesitation to your voice. It nearly sounds nervous, and both Megumi and Tsumiki look up in alarm. Satoru hums, still chewing away. “What are you going to tell the class?”

Satoru stops eating. His chewing comes to a halt, and his chopsticks freeze in the air. A slice of pork drops from between them, and falls back into his bowl—It’s not hard to see the cogs turning in his head. “Uhm, I. . .” He swallows the food still in his mouth, and clears his throat.

Right. It’s Career Day—but Satoru can’t tell a bunch of seven to eight-year-olds that he hunts and kills grimy, ugly, and freakishly scary curses for a living, now, can he? Megumi doesn’t think that would go over well with the other parents. The boy sighs. It’s just one thing after another. He grimly believes the world might just be out to get him.

“I. . .Oh! I can tell them I’m a teacher,” his guardian scrambles for a solution, and Megumi can’t help but think it’s a little lack-lustre. Who would believe that guy is a teacher, anyway? Then again. . .Megumi doesn’t know a better fix for their current problem, either. He was so focused on the fact that it was Satoru that had to come to the school, he all but forgot about the fact that the dear thorn-in-his-side didn’t possess a normal job. “Suguru has told me a thing or two about his internship. I can take inspiration from there.”

Ah, yes. The famed Suguru Geto. Megumi has met him before. He hasn’t actually spoken to him, however. The man often visits, and has twin girls clinging to him when he does, and while Tsumiki seems to really like him—and them—Megumi doesn’t have an interest in seeking out some form of interaction, yet. Whenever he comes over, Megumi opts to hide in his room. Suguru never tries to disturb him, nor does he try to coax him into coming out. He’s very grateful for it.

So, despite never speaking to him, Megumi knows about Suguru. Well, he knows enough. He knows Suguru went to school with the two of you, and he knows something really, very bad (nearly) happened that caused the man to take a step back from the world you all live in. What exactly happened (or what didn’t happen), Megumi doesn’t know for sure. You and Satoru almost never speak about it, and when you do, it’s in hushed voices—and you always stop immediately when he enters the room.

But that’s okay. He doesn’t need to know. Suguru doesn’t force himself upon Megumi, and so he will extend him the same courtesy. “I thought Geto-san wasn’t a teacher, yet?” Tsumiki speaks up from beside him, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Mimi and Nana said he’s still learning. How can he be teaching, already?”

“He’s not a teacher, yet, munchkin, well spotted,” Satoru answers with a proud grin. The nickname annoys Megumi—the feeling of irritation has been conditioned into his very being after Satoru chose it as the designated nickname for both of them. “An internship helps him build experience in the field. It means he is still learning, but he will do so while teaching.”

Tsumiki nods in understanding, her mouth opens and her lips curl into a small ‘ah’ as the information settles in. “So, you will pretend to be a teacher, then? At Megumi’s school?”

Satoru bites on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Seemingly—as Megumi is quite convinced he doesn’t ever think before he speaks. “I think so, yes,” he explains, and unknowingly retorates Megumi’s train of thoughts. How annoying. Satoru looks towards you for approval; it’s something he does very often. “It’s probably the safest route, no?”

“It’s our best option,” you say, and bring a thumb up to the corner of Satoru’s mouth. Gently, you wipe away a grain of rice stuck to his skin. It’s effortless, and nearly automated. Megumi wonders how many times you’ve had to do that. “Pretending to be a teacher shouldn’t be too difficult a task. Right, mochi?”

“Right,” Satoru echoes. His eyes track your every move, and the slight, pink colouring of his cheeks doesn’t seem to embarrass him even a little bit. Megumi thinks it should. Have some decorum. “I can do it, no problem.”

“Alright then,” you say, and smile. First at Satoru, and then at Megumi. You look at the boy for a few seconds; you’re about to ask him if he’s okay with it. He knows you are, because you always do. “Is that okay for you, Megumi?” It’s like clockwork, almost.

Megumi feels the need to answer with something snarky. Something akin to the sound of ‘What choice do I have?’ but he doesn’t—because you’re being kind, and you don’t deserve such a response. So, instead he turns towards Satoru.

“. . .Just don’t mess it up.”

Satoru delivers a whole spiel about how ‘he’d never do that’ and that he’s ‘more than capable’ of telling a little white lie, but Megumi dilutes it to background noise rather quickly. He continues sputtering his nonsense when Megumi and Tsumiki stand up to clear the table, and still hasn’t stopped even when you and him start loading the dishwasher together—Megumi chooses to seek reprieve in his room while he’s distracted.

It isn’t until many hours later, when Megumi leaves the sanctuary of his room to swipe a quick snack from the kitchen, that he first hears Satoru speak about something other than his great, and very much sufficient, ‘capabilities’. Your voices are muffled, and Megumi has to focus to make out your words. His soft, inaudible padding down the illuminated hallways comes to a halt. As if that would make his ears function better.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Satoru?”

The boy frowns. With such gentleness in your voice, it’s hard to identify the worry lingering beneath the surface. Megumi moves a bit closer. He stops one step shy of bumping into the wooden surface, and peeks through the groove. The door is ajar—it’s something that allows him to watch how your eyes follow Satoru’s large frame as he paces around the room. It’s strange. Seeing him so. . .frazzled.

Satoru nods. “I can do this, I know I can,” he says, and quits his pacing to look at you. Megumi can’t see his face, but he can see yours. He might as well not have, though, as he can’t make out the emotion that fills your eyes. It’s not one he himself has in his repertoire, that he knows for sure. “He never asks me for anything, princess. I have to do this right.”

Ah, this isn’t a conversation Megumi is meant to hear. He should probably seize his eavesdropping, he thinks, and winces a little when he properly analyses Satoru’s words. They’re truthful. Megumi doesn’t go to him when he needs something. His first thought is to go to you—and his second, Tsumiki. And if he’s being honest anyway, his third thought very likely isn’t Satoru, either; He’d try to solve it on his own if it came down to it. Megumi frowns again. He doesn’t like how that realisation makes him feel.

A careful shuffle of footsteps breaks him free from his thoughts. Megumi looks up, and catches how you place a hand on Satoru’s cheek. “I’m sure you’ll do great, baby,” you mumble. There’s a small, soft smile on your lips, one that quickly makes way for the peck Satoru places upon them.

“Thank you,” Satoru whispers. One of his hands reaches for yours, and Megumi suddenly feels as if he’s intruding on something when the man brings them up to his lips to press a tender kiss to them. Okay, no, definitely intruding—ew.

The boy scrunches his nose up in disgust, and hurriedly darts back towards his room. Suddenly, he has lost his appetite for a late-evening snack. Megumi lets out a deep sigh once he’s all tucked into his sheets again. Perhaps giving Satoru a shot wouldn’t be that big of a problem. Just one, though.

. . .Yeah, just one should be enough.

It’s the final, conclusive thought Megumi has before dozing off to sleep. Blissfully unaware of the conversation you and Satoru share—now behind a very closed door.

You stifle a giggle. The disappearance of Megumi’s presence outside your bedroom was quick and rampant as soon as Satoru started to kiss your hands. Something the sorcerer did very deliberately. It’s as if the boy suddenly forgot about the very special, very effective pair of eyes his guardian possesses. And with a cursed energy output such as Megumi’s, it would be hard not to recognise his presence.

“You did that on purpose,” you comment. “How cruel of you, mochi.”

Satoru hums, and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Maybe, the little brat shouldn’t eavesdrop, then,” he defends himself. There isn’t an inkling of guilt to be seen on his pretty face.

. . .Though, both of you still take some extra care to shut the door next time.

Megumi faithfully believes that, as of today, he has used-up all of his luck for the next five, no, ten years. It can only go downhill from here. For some inexplicable, mind-boggling reason—Satoru is actually pulling this off. That’s not all; he’s not merely winging it, he’s genuinely doing well. The boy can’t quite believe his eyes.

When he’d walked to the front with such an overexaggerated pep in his step, and an overabundance of bravado rolling off of him in waves—Megumi couldn’t help but watch on with a grim look, and a healthy dose of negative thoughts. It only amplified the nerves he’d collected so far during the walk to school. Somehow, watching Satoru give your flashcards a frantic do-over did very little to ease his bubbling anxiety.

There were many of them, flashcards that is. All possible questions his peers or his teacher could ever think of are written on those little pieces of cardboard. Courtesy of you, and your boyfriend. Megumi’s able to recall all those nights the two of you spend at the kitchen table—practising. He thought it was silly at the time.

But, as it turns out, it works.

Satoru is fun. To other people; Megumi doesn’t share the sentiment. Against all odds, he’s dynamic, and speaks with conviction. His flamboyant hand gestures have others think of them as amusing—captivating, even. Satoru is talking, and they’re all hanging onto his every word. No matter the fact that they’re all cleverly disguised lies.

Megumi can’t wrap his head around it. He doesn’t need to, however. If anything, he’s relieved that his peers think of his guardian as cool. While he certainly does not share the opinion, he isn’t too dense to admit that such a belief will save him a lot of embarrassment in the future. So, for this one, single day, he will let Satoru Gojo be cool. His snarky comments can resume tomorrow.

“Ah, it seems you have a deep love for your profession, Gojo-san,” his teacher says. She interrupts Satoru’s rant, and catches his attention as well as Megumi’s. Her voice is light and airy, and carries nothing that should cause him to fear the worst. Still, the boy feels on edge. “Though, I don’t remember the grade you are teaching. Could you tell us, again?”

Ah, and there it goes. The very first card in the elaborately built castle of lies.

Satoru pauses. A second passes, and then two, and three, and so on. He doesn’t speak for a good thirty, and Megumi can nearly see his mind leaf through his beloved flashcards—flashcards that are now neatly tucked into his pockets and entirely out of reach. That’s good. Because the absolute last thing Satoru should do now, is resort back to the flashcards.

Megumi shakes his head no as a signal.

“Ah,” Satoru says. “I teach kindergarten.”

Satoru didn’t catch the hint. Megumi wishes the ground would swallow him up. It would have been the correct answer—it is the answer that’s written on the flashcards—if Satoru hadn’t decided to go off route. Getting too caught up in the story he’d been free-writing, and allowing himself to get carried away by the looks of awe is resulting in his downfall, which, consecutively, will end with Megumi’s downfall, as well.

“Huh? But! What about the science experiment that exploded?” One of the children in his class whines. “I didn’t get to do that in kindergarten!”

“And the backflip you taught your students!”

“What about the first prize in the talent show? I thought your students were famous!”

The little bit of colour that normally resides in Satoru’s face steadily disappears, and he clenches his fist at his side. Ah, it’s great to know he’s at least aware of his mistake. That won’t help either of them at the moment, though. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, and a feeling of distress overtakes him. It shows on his face. He doesn’t exactly go through the trouble of trying to hide it—there are bigger problems right now.

How utterly humiliating to be caught lying.

Satoru’s eyes find him. They’re just as troubled as his own. It worsens his anxiety.

“Oh, uhm, you see. . .” Satoru stammers, and Megumi’s stomach churns when the children around them continue to ask more and more questions. The wince his guardian lets out does little to soothe him. Megumi sighs, and looks at the ground. “Ah, I see. It seems you guys saw right through me.”

Megumi slides down in his seat. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, the ground would absorb him. It’s currently looking like a preferable fate.

“. . .I’m actually a detective.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

“And. . .And for a detective, it’s very important to listen to what people say, because they could be lying!”

It’s a sad, pathetic excuse for a save. Megumi briefly ponders the distance between his seat and the door. Perhaps he could make a run for it. The subway station is very close by—getting on and travelling to an entirely new city to start a new life doesn’t seem like such a bad option. He sighs. No, that’s not possible. You and Tsumiki would be very worried. What else is there to do, though?

“You all picked up on my lie, which tells me every single one of you could make a great detective in the future.”

Megumi thinks Satoru might have some underlying mental problems. Though, they can’t possibly be as severe as the problems his classmates have—for they all believe the nonsense he’s giving them. Bright eyes, filled with hope and admiration, stare up at the man at the front of the class; impressed hums and entertained smiles get passed between the parents standing at the edge of the room. And Satoru, well, he seems entirely too proud of the fact that he made a bunch of children think they’re destined for a career in law enforcement. But, be that as it may, it works.

The children stir up unrest—the good kind this time, the kind that vocalises their excitement—and all rush to ask the detective a question. But, before they can even open their mouths, Satoru claps his hands together. It seems he has decided enough is enough, and it’s one of those very rare moments where Megumi agrees with him. The boy needs this to be over already.

“Alright, that’s it for today,” Satoru says, and feigns disappointment. He pretends to be affected by the sad groans of the children—keyword being pretend, as to the trained eye it’s quite clear that he wishes to leave. “I’m not allowed to tell you more.”

Ah, see, now that’s a good card.

“Wait, but, what about. . .”

“Ah, sorry, that’s confidential. Detective stuff, y’know?”

Confidential. Megumi thinks that might just be his new favourite word. The lingering feeling of anxiety slowly starts to subside with every step Satoru takes towards the back of the room—to the back, and away from the spotlight. His eyes follow the man’s large frame, but Satoru never chooses to look at him in return. His line of sight is firmly focused on the floor. It confuses Megumi, but he chalks it up to a mere whim.

All things considered (and minus the near cardiac arrest he went through), today went pretty well, after all. Much to his surprise.

Perhaps Megumi doesn’t hate Career Day. A strong dislike is more like it.

Megumi can’t count the times he wished for Satoru to be quiet. The exact number is much like the digits of Pi—huge, and absolutely never-ending. He can, however, count the times he didn’t wish for him to be quiet. As of today, that stands at a very solid one.

The birds around them chirp, and the bustle of other people is heard all around them—but they’re the only sounds gracing his ears. There is none of Satoru’s incessant chatter, nor is there even a glimmer of gloating about a job well-done. It’s eerily silent, and Megumi isn’t sure what to make of it. This isn’t quite how he imagined the walk home to go. Far from it, if he’s being honest.

“What’s up with you?”

It’s possibly the first time Megumi decides to break the silence, ever. The boy frowns, and fiddles with the straps of his backpack. There isn’t a middle-ground with Satoru, he has found out. Either he speaks entirely too much, or unnervingly little. There’s a tiny pebble in his path, and Megumi feels the need to kick it forward—so he does.

“I kind of messed up there, huh?”

The kick doesn’t have nearly enough force to it. Megumi watches as the little rock skips forward. Once, twice, and then it comes to a standstill again. “Yeah, kind of,” he agrees.

“I’m sorry,” Satoru rushes out. It’s said so fast, as if it physically pains him to say it. Perhaps it does. It’s sincere, however. There isn’t even a hint of a joke to be found. Something must be bothering him. “It didn’t go how I wanted it to go, and I don’t know why I went astray, and forgot about the cards. It—well, it was pretty stupid.”

Megumi doesn’t exactly feel the need to deny it.

“So, I get it, okay?” He continues, seeing the boy’s silence as an empty space for more conversation—more rambling. Since that’s what it is; rambles, plain and simple. Megumi doesn’t see the need for such a fuss. “I shouldn’t have strayed from the plan, and. . .”

“It’s fine.”

Satoru blinks at him. “What?”

“I said it’s fine,” Megumi repeats. Because it really is fine. Admittedly, it wasn’t smart of Satoru to all but discard your carefully planned presentation, but it ended well enough regardless. No harm, no foul. “Thank you for coming.”

That small, short sentence is enough to stop Satoru in his tracks. Megumi doesn’t, however. The man is very tall, he’s sure to catch up in a jiffy; he doesn’t need him to wait. There’s another small silence, though this one feels a lot more comfortable than the last. Satoru takes his time to process, and Megumi lets him.

“W—What?” The sorcerer stammers in shock. There is no need for Megumi to turn around and see—he can hear the smile curling onto his lips. “Did you just. . .”

“I won’t say it again,” Megumi grumbles definitively, and picks up his pace. The very tips of his ears heat up, and the apples of his cheeks turn red. The feeling of embarrassment. This wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned it to appear when the day started.

Satoru attempts to run after him, to catch up. “Megumi!” He calls out, the very prominent, very familiar whiney lilt now back in his voice. Megumi didn’t miss it. “Wait for me, I didn’t hear you! Could you repeat that?”

“Yes, you did!” Megumi says, and throws him an annoyed glance from over his shoulder. He tightens his hold on the straps of his backpack. “Stop lying.”

“Nuh uh!”

“What are you? Six?”

Satoru’s toothy grin is infuriating. But—it’s familiar. And Megumi discovers he’s much more at ease when that grin is on display, than when the man in question is moping around. It’s a lot less alarming.

“And a half,” Satoru adds.

The scowl that’s on Megumi’s face appears almost instantly when he goes to ruffle his hair. For a man whose technique largely surrounds being untouchable, he has a surprising lack of awareness concerning this thing called personal space.

“Ugh,” Megumi groans, and pushes him off. It doesn’t work. Satoru gravitates towards him again—almost as if he’s a magnet. He doesn’t attempt to move a second time. In moments like these, it’s best to let Satoru get it all out of his system. “You’re so stupid.”

It’s true. He does think Satoru is stupid, but he can’t deny it—Satoru tried his very best today, and in the days prior. Which makes him one of the very small, barely existent group of people who have done so for him.

It seems one shot was enough, after all.

taglist: @luv-gin @sad-darksoul @parttimep3t @nanuer @bubbletae7 @chilichopsticks @gabirii @nyxlai @rattywatty @chaoticevilbakugo @ploylulla @sugasbrownsuga @littleagxs @m3ow1 @booksarekindaneat @frankenstein852 @bananasquash @jasm-1ne @chicken-fifi @yanelis-world @satory @satoryaa @sasfransisco @faetoraa @softiehee

#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: fushiguro megumi #ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x platonic!reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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kagooleo · 1 month

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johto’s champion and chronicler for the deity of the ilex shrine, it’s lyra!🌿

this one took me a while due to trying out different techniques (studying a Lot of art nouveau) and making a couple changes to her outfit (the details help), but I’d like to think she’s learned a lot in her journey and wanted to reflect her experience more in her champion fit

her specialty would be in fairy types and her meganium’s divergent evolution is grass/fairy 🧚🪷

and a bonus w/ the johto gang after the photoshoot!

#kagarts #trainer lyra #meganium #pokemon hgss #get ready for a bigass tag wall again HYAH #her team picks are meganium (grass/fairy + shiny!) azumarill togekiss alola ninetales gardevoir and clefable (mega evolves for fairy/steel)#terrains and high sp atk + statuses galore + her dino can cause a stronger confusion (like toxic w badly poisoned but its w/ Bad headaches)#i'll probably make changes as i go design wise for meganium but colors were inspo from sampaguita flowers #the flower's associated with true friendship and utilized in medicines or given as good gestures in various traditions and celebrations #and also bc she's 🇵🇭 babey!!!!!!!! i'm slapping all my favs w the pinoy beam and not even the dinos are safe >:]#since her dino is shiny a lot of the colors are just a few color diffs where the little orbs are + warmer tones. gotta make a ref sometime #not sure if I should tag the others bc the focus is on her. but the quartet always pulls thru for each other #i like thinking silver gets comfortable enough to be the friend that's “s'cuse you my Friend asked for No pickles”#silver in line picking up her food like “yeah yeah i know her and btw that’s CHAMPION lyra to you. YES she ordered a strawberry shake”#both of their meganiums are Best friends and silver likely uses his dino when you rematch him (and his would beee grass/dragon)#calling this piece Done though oh my god this semester has been nuts. don't wanna take any longer on a single piece or i'm eating tree bark #tumblr's gonna kill the quality on it but idgaf im Done. i need to tidy up my sheezy now

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bimboficationblues · 7 months

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how is "nationalism of the oppressed" mythological

In a dual sense - 1) like all nationalisms, it relies on central myths, and 2) the idea of an innately revolutionary "nationalism of the oppressed" is itself mythical, not a useful analytical or political tool but basically a way of handwaving difficult tactical questions.

All nationalism is in some sense myth-making - it posits an underlying, intangible unity among a group of people with highly diverse and divergent interests and traits. This is part of the reason why nationalists so often talk in the abstract language of "national spirit" - abstraction is kind of the point. This intangible unity doesn't *have* to be ethnicity, it's frequently (for example) the highly nebulous concept of "culture." But the inevitable slide towards ethnicity - and I do think it is inevitable - is unsurprising.

If you identify the unifying force of a people, the thing that makes it a "nation," with something like language/religion/culture, those things are fairly fluid both in space (taking a variety of different forms across different places) and time (changing over time for any number of reasons). This is especially the case because those traits are basically "open," at least theoretically: other people can move in, learn a language, convert to a local religion, and/or learn the techniques and style of local cultural production (and in the process change the character of the culture). So the supposed unity of "culture" is very obviously made up. (It's also worth noting that, insofar as nationalism is coextensive with statecraft, we often see efforts to preserve or create a "national culture" or "national unity" that leaves out or represses certain groups and practices; figuring out what constitutes "the nation" is a highly arbitrary process.)

Ethnicity is also fake - it is a "myth of common descent" - but that quality counterintuitively makes it a more stable foundation for a nationalist political project, because it is 1) derived from something in the past, making it harder to contest or observe, and 2) an immutable trait within the myth's context. You can't identify or convert or learn your way into being a part of the ethnos, you either are or you aren't. This makes for a much more stable boundary line around who is included or prioritized within the polity and who isn't.

As for why "nationalism of the oppressed" is mythological: it is not a meaningful historical category. When people invoke it they are collapsing a bunch of different projects and movements, some of which are conservative and some of which are revolutionary. I also reject the idea that nationalism's goodness is contingent on whether it is practice by an oppressed or oppressor group and nothing else - lest we forget that Zionism was once considered a kind of "nationalism of the oppressed."

For the socialist or the revolutionary, nationalism should be considered a kind of tactic; it is not a good in itself. Any revolutionary or liberatory movement is going to have to make decisions about what they want the movement to look like - its positions, rhetoric, propaganda, goals, etc. Nationalism is a historically popular means for doing things like rallying people to your cause, establishing basic principles for statecraft, cultivating a new political and social culture, etc. This is basically Frantz Fanon's argument in Wretched of the Earth - consistent with his arguments in his previous book, Fanon rejects the notion of a prepolitical national unity. He does not want to wade around in the primordial soup for a "true history" for colonized countries to return to or emulate. But nor does he reject nationalism as a strategy for combating colonialism on the field or in the body. Rather, he wants a class-driven national culture that is emergent from within the process of anti-colonial resistance and that ultimately gives way to an internationalist, universalist humanism once its purposes have been achieved. It's an extremely qualified kind of argument. I don't totally agree with it, but it's an argument that I can wrap my head around and endorse in the broad strokes, because above all it is talking about nationalism as a means towards something.

The kind of people who bastardize Fanon and try and recuperate him into their insipid microwaved politics have this entirely fictional idea of nationalism as an innately revolutionary end, that if you put nationalism in the hands of the right people it will automatically gravitate towards liberation and will not introduce the same kind of problems that the nationalism of colonial powers or capitalist countries has. This is just demonstrably not true (*gestures vaguely at cross-pollination between black nationalisms and black conservatisms, the historical relationship between nationalism and liberal statecraft, the success of right-wing religious or ethnic nationalist movements like Hindutva or Ba’athism in post-colonial countries, etc.*), and is basically just weird, idealist nonsense about how being oppressed makes you morally virtuous.

It also has the effect of obfuscating class politics - ironic, since the people that most frequently utter this line are ML(M)s. There are quite a few "nationalisms of the oppressed" that presume the working-class of a country or a group has more in common with its local bourgeoisie or professional-class counterparts (frequently the spearheads of nationalist movements, if we wanna talk about "class character") rather than the working classes and oppressed groups of other countries.

What the "nationalism of the oppressed" myth does is effectively evade hard strategic questions. Instead of asking "how will this help the cause? what problems might it introduce? does this conflict with long-term goals and are the short-term victories going to be worth it?" it just assumes from the outset that none of those questions are worth asking. It assumes that nationalism is an automatically better foundation for a movement than humanism, or cosmopolitanism, or internationalism.

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tsukimefuku · 4 months

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Kindness and sunflowers

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a fic I'll eventually write (eventually). To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :)

Disclaimer: they’re NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.

Tags: f!reader, soft/implied Higuruma x reader, drinking, fluff, hurt, and comfort.

WC: 1.4k

"Hey, I think he's not doing very well." You said to the other sorcerers, while you were all sitting at the bar. Higuruma had his face plastered on the counter, and one of his hands covered a beer mug. He was mumbling unintelligibly.

This was his first time out of Jujutsu High's headquarters ever since they detained him. After saving your ass when you were on a mission, Higuruma — a curse user that was being hunted by Jujutsu High — was granted mercy under some conditions. If he proved himself as a worthy jujutsu sorcerer in their service, his suspended execution would be extinguished. You asked Gojo, as a favor from your friend, to try saving the guy (after all, he saved you first). Gojo agreed, but warned you'd be responsible for accompanying him in this "parole" period. Deal, you answered, and here you all were a month later.

The guy was smart (and a smart mouth), even with his kind of nihilistic demeanor sometimes. Working with him was very different from working with Nanami the months prior. Higuruma was an absolute beast in the field, and took many more risks than your previous mission partner. On one occasion, you had to take the poisonous hit from a curse to protect him, simply because he made no effort to dodge. You knew full well you could recover using your own RCT, but man, it was a nasty recovery period. He apologized at the time for his irresponsibility, and his empty sardonic facade seemed to get a little chipped away since then. At least for you.

"He seems fine to me." Nanami sipped on his own drink nonchalantly, as he raised one eyebrow while looking at the man. His contempt was hidden under the perfect monotone he had to his voice — Nanami was still furious at Higuruma due to the poisoning debacle that left you bedridden for an entire week.

You looked at him, somewhat irritated.

"Really? Does he, Nanami?" You asked rhetorically, pointing dramatically to face-plastered-on-the-counter Higuruma.

He sighed, putting his drink glass back on the counter. "I apologize, that was uncalled-for." Nanami said. "Yes, he should be taken somewhere else to sober up and sleep properly."

"Hey, lawyer man." Shoko poked Higuruma's arm, and he barely moved. "Yeah, he's out."

"This is it, I'm getting him home." You sighed. "I mean, now he's allowed to go out the headquarters, he might go home, right?"

Gojo shrugged, laughing, as he took many pictures of passed out Higuruma on his phone from different angles. "I didn't ask. They just said he could leave headquarters."

"You didn't ask?" You said, stunned.

He put his phone away in his pocket, clearly amused. "Well, when this happened to one of my students, he wasn't bound to be in headquarters all the time. So I think it's safe to say the man is free to go, as long as he comes back."

You facepalmed. Getting money from your wallet, you gave your and Higuruma's part to Gojo, the only person sober in the whole entourage. "Here, this should cover for us. I'm calling a cab."

He smiled as he said good luck.

***

After fumbling through Higuruma's wallet and questioning him relentlessly, piecing together everything the drunk man could tell, you finally got to drag him to his apartment, where he used to live when he was still a lawyer. There was just one thing you hadn't accounted for — neither of you had the key. You were cursing yourself and him under your breath as you conjured up a tiny grenade with your innate technique, just strong enough to bust open his door without causing collateral damage. He was leaning against the wall, sitting on the ground, and seemed to be snoring. May the neighbors not hear this. It was late enough to be almost early.

The controlled explosion was loud enough to startle him awake, but didn't seem to attract any attention from the other apartments. You threw Higuruma's arm over your shoulders and lifted him up, while you opened the door and carried him inside. Miraculously, when you flipped the lights on, it actually worked. You put him on the couch as you used one of the chairs around the place to hold the door closed.

"You're kind, did you know that?" Higuruma said, while he was a tad bit more sober now than when you both left the bar. He threw himself over the couch, extending his arms on the cushions and leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. "The world is not a great place for kind people."

"You don't say." You replied, smiling, while you looked around the apartment. Somehow, it was exactly what you expected his place to look like. A little messy, with lots of books lying around the house, and even if the place had no big decor or anything like that, it still felt warm. You saw a sunflower withered by the window, and you noticed he looked at it at the same time, grunting in complaint.

Higuruma leaned forward to remove his shoes, but was having a hard time pulling his shoestrings. You sighed as you said, "here, let me help you." You got on your knees and undid both of his shoes, taking them off.

Higuruma took you by surprise, as he directed his hands to hold your face delicately and lift your gaze. He looked at you, your faces inches apart, as you could still smell the beer from him. His eyes were soft, something you hadn't seen yet. You felt your heart skip a beat as he was holding you like that. "Thank you."

You gulped and blinked a few times, as you removed his hands from your face and got up. "It's just shoes." You turned to walk away into the kitchen and see if you could grab him a glass of water, but he held your hand, still seated on the couch, looking down.

"No. I mean... Thank you." Higuruma said softly. "Thank you for defending me." He sighed deeply. "It's usually the other way around."

"Oh." You turned to look at him. A soft smile took over your face. "You saved me that day. I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't at least try to return the favor."

He pulled you and had you landing beside him on the sofa. It startled you, as you felt your face warm and blushing. He was still holding your hand, making circles with his thumb over your hand's back, and spoke, nearly whispering, "You're too kind." He closed his eyes, and for your surprise, he leaned over and rested his face on your shoulder in a cat-like demeanor. Your body quivered as you felt his slow breath pressed against your skin, and you both stayed completely still for a while.

"Higuruma?" You asked, hearing in response a soft snore. Oh, he's out. Sliding him very carefully out of your shoulder and onto the couch, you got up. Time to go.

After taking a last look at the withered sunflower that was beside his window you sighed, looking at your wristwatch and feeling you could still wait a few hours. There was something you to do first.

***

Higuruma's head made him a thousand promises of regret as he tried to remember how exactly he got home. The sun was high outside, and it was probably noon already. After getting completely hammered at the bar, he had only a few flashbacks. Getting poked, an insistent camera flash on his face, everyone's voices, his sunflower dead by the window.

You.

He sat up on the couch hastily, feeling instantly dizzy as he put his hands on his head. "Where is she?" He looked around, and the apartment seemed empty. I hope I didn't make a complete fool out of myself yesterday, Higuruma thought to himself, as he got up, careful not to get the drunken vertigo.

Higuruma remembered the sunflower again, and grunted, displeased. He had bought it in an attempt to decorate his apartment, at least a little, and make it feel more like a home. The former lawyer found the idea of him taking care of a sunflower kind of funny and surely ironic. After everything that had happened, he was away from his apartment for nearly two months by this point. "Good thing I never had any food in here." He said to himself, walking towards the window.

He stopped as he saw a brand-new sunflower in a vase, right where the other one previously was. Higuruma smiled, amused with himself, and traced his messy hair with his fingers, wondering how he would thank you for that.

"Yeah. Too kind."

#jujutsu kaisen higuruma #higuruma x reader #jjk higuruma #jjk hiromi #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jjk x you

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aloesarchives · 6 months

Text

A Love that Haunts Beyond the Grave (JJK One-shot)

Warnings: Fem reader, Death, Mention of Blood, Violence, Grief, Reader is highkey still in mourning, Megumi being confused 24/7, Angst with no happy ending at all, Shibuya Arc

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Word Count: 2.3k words

Summary: What happens when the person that is attacking your son is his father and the love of your life?

Pairing: Toji x Fem/Mom!Reader(Romantic), Megumi x Mom!Reader(Platonic/Parental)

Pronouns: She/Her (Reader is referred to as mom by Megumi)

AU: Slight Canon Divergence Timeline (Reader is a sorcerer and minor teacher at Jujutsu High. The reader is Megumi’s biological mom. Tsumiki is Reader and Toji’s biological daughter. One of the Reader’s Last Names is Fushiguro but also their last name, like (Y/N) (L/N) Fushiguro.)

(A/N: Sorry that this is shorter than my other JJK pieces. I am trying to do more writings that aren’t super long or drag on. Also, because my ADHD prescription has been backordered until the 20th, my updates will be very inconsistent. I apologize for the inconvenience and drop in quality of my upcoming works!)

[Semi Proofread and edited on 12/13/23 at 8:02pm!]

As always, Please Enjoy!

The curses just kept coming and coming, everything was in absolute chaos. Though you can pull your own, the amount of curse energy manifesting was something you haven’t felt since your younger years. What was happening in Shibuya was unlike any other mission or event you've been a part of. The closest that could come to this is when Suguru decided to invade and wage an attack on the very school he attended.

After getting separated from your son and his group, you desperately made it your mission to reunite and be there with him. You know your son is a very strong boy and can handle his own. With the guidance and training of Satoru, you could be sure he can be a sorcerer who stands up against those who oppose him. But this was different. Stronger curses, stronger and terrifying enemies you never had heard of, curse techniques and domain expansions beyond your understanding. This wasn’t anything a normal grade sorcerer would be up against, let alone be prepared for. With the news of Gojo Satoru being sealed reached your ears, you knew you were one of the few strong sorcerers left to be aiding in this dangerous conflict. Thus the desperation to find your son and keep him safe became unruly.

You zipped and flashed through the once lively city in search of any essence of your son. Scaling buildings, diving through empty windows of establishments frozen in time, racing on the concrete sidewalks with the only noise is your feet slamming against the pavement with the faint growls of grotesque curses echoing in the background. To your luck, or possibly your own fear, there were barely any curses in the streets to ambush you. While aimlessly running, your body suddenly immobilized itself at the sound of concrete breaking. You never had a super heightened sense, only through years of experiences and training. However, your body forced you to stay still as if it wanted you to hear what was happening. It would soon be in your favor as what followed was a small explosion with two people coming out of it. You recognized one of the silhouettes to be a young boy with blue spikey hair.

“Megumi?!”

You found your son but not in the way that you wanted. Like any good parent, you rushed to where you think Megumi landed. As you get closer, you hear glass shattering. Things crashing and being thrown around. Through a side street, you briefly saw Megumi being launched by a powerful force. You were, however, confused because you didn’t feel nor sense any curse energy. What the hell is Megumi fighting that’s bruly enough it doesn’t rely on curse energy? Making haste, you tried to figure out Megumi’s location but with him being thrown around, it was difficult to make a precise point of his location.

You kept following where Megumi was going despite not knowing the entity that was manhandling your son. T the crashes and the chaos grow louder, You cut through any small side streets and alleyways to get closer. Sweat was beading down, cascading down your face, and your limbs ached from the amount of energy you exerted onto them. But it didn’t matter, none of it mattered when your son was endangered and possibly killed because you were too late. Oh, how you begged your body to keep on going just to save your son. After taking all the twists and turns, you took a left turn and saw Megumi. He was out of breath but it seemed he was trying to hold himself against the juggernaut he was fighting. Sprinting in full action, you ran down the alley and reached the street where he was cornered. Even if you were out of breath, your body mustered enough air to call for your son’s name.

“MEGUMI!!!”

“Mom?!”

You reached your son and used your body as a shield between him and whoever he was fighting. You looked back for a bit, to see if he was severely injured. Besides the cut under his left eye and the drops of sweat on his forehead and cheeks, he looked somewhat okay. You honestly didn’t care if you died protecting your son. If Megumi lived, you would be satisfied. You felt your body become light as you took a stance against Megumi’s opponent. You didn’t feel Megumi grip the back of your shirt and pleading out your name. You didn’t understand what he meant until the figure on the other side propelled himself forward and tried to impale you on his weapon. You anticipated an object thrusted in you only to open your eyes to see the figure look at you with surprise. Though he jumped back to the other end of the street, you caught the small horizontal scar on the edge of the man’s lips. It was like life played a cruel joke on you as Deja vu graced your body in the worst way possible.

“You…(Y/N)?”

“T-Toji…?”

Megumi’s brain was frazzled but he still was able to pick up you saying something. And by the look of Megumi’s opponent, he stood there frozen too. Megumi looks back and forth trying to figure out how to know who he is fighting. Was this an enemy from your younger days as an active sorcerer that matched you and your abilities? Or was this someone that scarred you from an event that caused you to stand like a statue? He couldn’t tell but by your reaction of wide eyes and slight agape mouth, this guy wasn’t someone to simply drop your guard. Megumi was trying to process the situation while you and what seemed to be your dead husband stared the other down.

How was this possible? Why was this possible? You were informed of the activities and whereabouts of your estranged husband twelve years ago. Of how one night out of the blue, Toji just left with no trace of returning whatsoever. Leaving you, Tsumiki, and Megumi behind one day and never bothering to return to the three of you ever again. You were told by your own junior and student, Satoru Gojo, that he killed your husband in an intense battle where he blew a hole in him. Telling you his last words were to look after his wife and children as you cried over the fate of your love. You thought you never got to see your Toji alive again, the last time you saw him was in the morgue where Satoru and Principal Yagi showed you the corpse of your husband to confirm his identity.

Your denial was strong, stronger than your resolution to be rational. You saw your husband dead, pale, cold, and mortal as you saw his left arm and chunks of his torso were missing. Your husband was gone from this mortal plane. Yet, here he was. Your husband was standing in front of you like he was never dead, to begin with. Your body felt cold, shaking from the adrenaline that was produced, your breath lodged in your throat, and your heartbeats were all that you heard. A wave of confusion, astonishment, disbelief, sorrow, and anguish flashed over you. As you stood there, Megumi became even more disoriented. You were known for being calm and in control in battles and missions as he heard from his teacher. On the other hand, this was something he had never seen before. You weren’t standing in fear. No, Megumi couldn’t tell one feeling from you but multiple feelings washed over you like a wave crashing against the sea wall. Megumi couldn’t tell a single thing from you. You were his own mother, and yet he couldn’t understand what you were going through.

It was like you'd seen a ghost, and he didn't know he would be right.

“Mom… Snap out of it... This man is a perfected form of Maki-san… He’s too dangerous for us… If we don’t take him down, we’re done for… We need to fight together to win against him… Mom, please…”

To the untrained ear, it sounded like Megumi was commanding you. But the reality is, he was desperately pleading to you. Although you heard your son, his words fell on deaf ears. If this somehow was the Toji you know, you know he wouldn’t kill you. He didn’t recognize his son but he definitely recognized you, which meant he wasn’t going for the kill just yet. If he didn’t recognize you, he would’ve killed Megumi and you within seconds. But deep down, you knew your Toji was somewhere inside of whatever he was possessing, you think. As naive and in denial as you are, you took the risk and held out the fight just a bit longer. In hopes, the soul of your deceased husband could remember you. As the man that you believed was your husband stands the opposite of you, he just stares at the two of you. You fiercely yet calmly protect your son while Megumi's strong demeanor clashes with the sweat bullets on his forehead.

“You…boy… What's your name?” Toji bluntly asks Megumi.

Megumi’s guard drops a bit by the bizarre question the stranger asked, unbeknownst to him that he was talking to his father. He wasn’t sure about answering the question but he was intrigued by the nature of the stranger’s decision to ask.

“(L/N) Fushiguro…” Megumi hesitantly muttered.

“It’s not Zen’in…? I’m glad…”

And with that, you watched as Toji stabbed himself in the head with his weapon. You regained your breath as you gasped at the action. Before Toji’s body hit the pavement with a splattered thud, you could have heard him mouth something to you.

‘’m sorry, (Y/N)...’

While your son’s mouth was open because of the absurdity of the situation, you could feel your own tears welling up. Megumi runs over to look at the corpse, he is shocked that it reverted back to the original host before Toji’s soul took over.

“What the hell was that about… Mom…?”

Megumi looks over to see you crying. Your mind wiped itself off of any self-control as your knees collapsed to the ground. You were heaving deep breaths while small sobs escaped each time you let a breath out. Concern takes over Megumi as he runs over to you, asking what’s wrong. He would have asked who that man was and what is your relationship with him but right now isn’t the best moment for your current state. As you start to calm down, Megumi is right there hugging you for comfort. You couldn’t believe yourself. He was there, he was right fucking there in front of your very eyes! Standing there with his pompous and confident attitude. You thought you were over with this, having to come to terms that your love was dead and never return to you in this time. That you had already mourned the loss of your husband all those twelve years ago. But it seems like you never truly moved on from it.

When Megumi was younger, he would constantly ask about his father. After the news of his death, you never told him nor Tsumiki the real fate of their father. Tsumiki was an observant and smart girl, she knew the topic of her father was a sensitive one given your reactions. That’s why she stopped asking about him when she was young. It didn’t take long for Megumi to follow suit with his older sister. Slowly stopped asking about his father and grew a slight resentment towards him because he let you raise your two children alone while never giving a reason why. The days he remembered as a young boy of your crestfallen expression, how your smile never reached your eyes. The only time you did this was when you were spending time with him and Tsumiki. He never remembered his father or what he looked like. To Megumi, he was always out of the picture. It was just you, him, his older sister, and Gojo-sensei. That was his family. But he still couldn’t wrap his head around one thing. He remembered he asked how many people did you fall in love with before you met his father. Your answer always intrigued him because you told him that your first and only love was his and Tsumiki’s father.

He can never understand your love for his father after everything he put you through. But you never gave Megumi a definitive answer. All you said was, “When the time comes for me to be ready, I will eventually tell you, Megumi-sweetie”. As you start to gather yourself, Megumi felt his rationale wasn’t working as he was trying to piece this together to make sense of it all. As Megumi helps you up, you wipe your tears away and even out your breathing. You thought you were ready to tell Megumi the truth, the truth about his father and everything that led up to this point. But in the confrontation you just had with your deceased beloved, the confidence you had vanished and your readiness was replaced with uncertainty. As cowardice it was to admit, you knew the truth would come out sooner or later. But right now isn’t a good time to tell your son this. Right now, everything is falling apart and the best course of action is to regroup with the other. Perhaps when this is all over, you could tell your son the truth. He does deserve it, after all.

“Mom, are you okay? I don’t understand or know what’s going on… I don’t even know where that man even came from…”

“Megumi, honey. I know you are confused and have many questions for me. Unfortunately, I cannot answer them right now. What matters right now is we find the others and regroup with them. I’ll be fine, my dear. Now, we gotta go and find the rest of them in what’s left of Shibuya.”

You offered a smile for reassurance for your son. But your son knows you better, your smile didn’t reach your eyes. While he made that observation, he didn’t comment on it. He only nodded and followed your lead. With that, you and your son quickly trekked the empty Shibuya streets to find the others. However, what you and your son will soon find out is that the Battle in Shibuya will be known as a calamity in Jujutsu history and ultimately end in tragedy.

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Hope you enjoyed it! Have a wonderful day and don't forget to drink your favorite drink!

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raylocklear39 · 3 months

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Fostering Innovation through Divergent Thinking

In this fast-paced, ever-evolving world, where technology and global issues reshape our lives daily, the ability to think creatively is not just a plus; it's essential for survival and success. Central to this creative capability is divergent thinking, the mental process that propels individuals to generate multiple solutions to complex situations. This contrasts sharply with convergent thinking, which narrows down to one correct solution, highlighting a broad spectrum of innovative possibilities instead. Origins of Divergent Thinking Divergent thinking shines brightest in the young, manifested through their raw curiosity and boundless imagination, prompting them to pose unique questions and conceive distinctive solutions. Brian Houchins of renowned innovators like Albert Einstein, who exhibited this trait early on by questioning mundane realities with profound curiosity, illustrate the natural inclination of humans to think differently. Yet, as people age, societal norms, educational frameworks, and the pressure to conform often suppress this natural propensity, dulling the vibrant spark of creativity. Beyond Traditional Intelligence Traditional measures of intelligence, focusing on analytical abilities and rote memory, fail to capture the entire essence of human intellect. Divergent thinking goes beyond these confines, fostering connections among unrelated ideas, reshaping problems, and inventing novel solutions. Psychologist Ellen Winner delineates the contrast between standard intelligence, which operates within fixed boundaries, and creativity, which thrives on disruption and innovation. This highlights the necessity for environments that stimulate questioning and view failure as a pathway to discovery rather than a dead end. Nurturing a Mindset for Divergent Thinking The decline in divergent thinking is not a foregone conclusion but a reversible trend. Individuals can rekindle their creative flare through dedicated practices and supportive settings: Welcoming Uncertainty and Mistakes A foundational step in fostering divergent thinking involves embracing the unpredictable nature and inherent chaos of creative endeavors. Personal development guru Brian Tracy emphasizes the importance of acknowledging mistakes as part of the learning process. This acceptance can free individuals from the paralyzing fear of failure, which often inhibits creative risk-taking.

Stimulating Curiosity and Investigative Spirit Creating environments that prize inquisitiveness over rote answers can significantly boost divergent thinking. Educational institutions, workplaces, and communities that champion open-ended questions and encourage intellectual exploration can cultivate a more innovative and flexible mindset among individuals. Broadening Horizons through Diverse Experiences Experiencing different cultures, academic fields, and perspectives can greatly enhance one's divergent thinking capabilities. Venturing beyond familiar territories helps expand mental frameworks and fosters unexpected connections between disparate ideas. Adopting Mindfulness and Reflective Practices Mindfulness and reflective practices, such as meditation, journaling, or artistic endeavors, support a state of open-minded awareness conducive to divergent thinking. These practices assist individuals in digesting their experiences, recognizing underlying patterns, and forming fresh insights. Utilizing Digital Platforms for Collaborative Innovation The advent of digital technology has opened new avenues for collective creative expression. Social media and online collaborative platforms allow for the exchange of ideas and the cultivation of communities dedicated to innovative thinking. By tapping into these resources, individuals can draw inspiration from a global pool of diversity and expertise. Conclusion As our world grows more intricate and interconnected, the demand for inventive solutions intensifies. Divergent thinking transcends being a mere natural talent to become a vital, cultivable skill. By fostering a culture that values curiosity, embraces diversity, and promotes an open exchange of ideas, we can unlock vast potential for creative innovation. Cultivating our collective divergent thinking abilities prepares us to navigate and shape a future filled with unique challenges and opportunities.

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newtonhickman92 · 3 months

Text

Fostering Innovation through Divergent Thinking

In this fast-paced, ever-evolving world, where technology and global issues reshape our lives daily, the ability to think creatively is not just a plus; it's essential for survival and success. Central to this creative capability is divergent thinking, the mental process that propels individuals to generate multiple solutions to complex situations. This contrasts sharply with convergent thinking, which narrows down to one correct solution, highlighting a broad spectrum of innovative possibilities instead. Origins of Divergent Thinking Divergent thinking shines brightest in the young, manifested through their raw curiosity and boundless imagination, prompting them to pose unique questions and conceive distinctive solutions. Stories of renowned innovators like Albert Einstein, who exhibited this trait early on by questioning mundane realities with profound curiosity, illustrate the natural inclination of humans to think differently. Yet, as people age, societal norms, educational frameworks, and the pressure to conform often suppress this natural propensity, dulling the vibrant spark of creativity. Beyond Traditional Intelligence Traditional measures of intelligence, focusing on analytical abilities and rote memory, fail to capture the entire essence of human intellect. Divergent thinking goes beyond these confines, fostering connections among unrelated ideas, reshaping problems, and inventing novel solutions. Psychologist Ellen Winner delineates the contrast between standard intelligence, which operates within fixed boundaries, and creativity, which thrives on disruption and innovation. This highlights the necessity for environments that stimulate questioning and view failure as a pathway to discovery rather than a dead end. Nurturing a Mindset for Divergent Thinking The decline in divergent thinking is not a foregone conclusion but a reversible trend. Individuals can rekindle their creative flare through dedicated practices and supportive settings: Welcoming Uncertainty and Mistakes

A foundational step in fostering divergent thinking involves embracing the unpredictable nature and inherent chaos of creative endeavors. Personal development guru Brian Tracy emphasizes the importance of acknowledging mistakes as part of the learning process. This acceptance can free individuals from the paralyzing fear of failure, which often inhibits creative risk-taking. Stimulating Curiosity and Investigative Spirit Creating environments that prize inquisitiveness over rote answers can significantly boost divergent thinking. Educational institutions, workplaces, and communities that champion open-ended questions and encourage intellectual exploration can cultivate a more innovative and flexible mindset among individuals. Broadening Horizons through Diverse Experiences Experiencing different cultures, academic fields, and perspectives can greatly enhance one's divergent thinking capabilities. Venturing beyond familiar territories helps expand mental frameworks and fosters unexpected connections between disparate ideas. Adopting Mindfulness and Reflective Practices Mindfulness and reflective practices, such as meditation, journaling, or artistic endeavors, support a state of open-minded awareness conducive to divergent thinking. These practices assist individuals in digesting their experiences, recognizing underlying patterns, and forming fresh insights. Utilizing Digital Platforms for Collaborative Innovation The advent of digital technology has opened new avenues for collective creative expression. Social media and online collaborative platforms allow for the exchange of ideas and the cultivation of communities dedicated to innovative thinking. By tapping into these resources, individuals can draw inspiration from a global pool of diversity and expertise. Brian Houchins As our world grows more intricate and interconnected, the demand for inventive solutions intensifies. Divergent thinking transcends being a mere natural talent to become a vital, cultivable skill. By fostering a culture that values curiosity, embraces diversity, and promotes an open exchange of ideas, we can unlock vast potential for creative innovation. Cultivating our collective divergent thinking abilities prepares us to navigate and shape a future filled with unique challenges and opportunities.

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imagineanime2022 · 6 months

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Cursed Siblings

Ryomen Sukuna X Sibling!Reader

Word Count: 1524

Requested: @imperatrizpirata

Request: hello everything is fine? I love your post, can I request jujutsu kaisen again? with the female reader being a curse and ryomen sukuna's older sister? the reader also saves jumpei from mahito (but the reader wants to use jumpei to be his new vessel). Thank you in advance…

Warning: Cannon divergence, still cannon deaths

A/N: the moment that I saw this request I was super excited to write it, I hope that it lives up to what you were thinking about and let me know if you want me to right a part 2 because I would totally be interested in doing that.

You were sick of the human bodies that you had taken, you had been around since the Heian Era, everyone knew your brother Ryomen Sukuna, he held their attention and therefore their rage when they came to take back their freedom and kill the biggest threat. The jujutsu sorcerers of that era knew very little of you and quickly forgot about you when your brother’s memory faded too.

You watched the world change around you, you changed with it, having to take a number of different host bodies, all genders, body types and ethnicity. It was getting boring though being the way that you were, stagnant in a moving world, you were established and had been for a long while as the danger in the forest, humans built a story around you, summoning you with a ritual allowed them to ask you for 1 wish in return for something from them and for the most part that was right however not many people were smart enough add the clause of actually enjoying their wish before you take your price and you were always in need of a new body.

The modern world was no different, in fact humans were more vain and your job had become more boring than it had been in a long time… Well until you felt it, your brother’s power surged across the city, someone had become his vessel, so you waited but he never came looking for you.

“You're the curse that they call wish granter?” One of the curses asked, he had light blue hair stitches that covered his face. “You curses should definitely know me by a different name.” Your muttered cheek rested against your fist as you looked down at them. “(Y/N) sibling to Sukuna.” You looked over at the body the voice had come from, it was dead, you knew that much, the curse was in the head of the body. “What do you want?” You asked. “This is Sukuna’s sibling, the one you were talking about, they don’t seem so dangerous.” The first one whined and you narrowed your eyes, a simple movement from your hand, he was pinned to the floor with a force no one could see but everyone could feel. “The lack of patience runs in the family. Do not test me, speak quickly, if I lose focus he dies painfully.” You warned them. “I am Kenjaku and we intend to bring your brother back to his former glory.” He said as he stepped forward. “You insult him by even thinking he would need your help.” You muttered as you looked over them. “A curse born from the fear of volcanoes, a curse born of nature's fear of man, a curse born of human fear of each other, a curse born of the fear of water based natural disasters and their puppet master.” You appeared before each of them as you listed them settling in a place before Kenjaku. “I assure you we are more than that.” Kenjaku promised. “What are you doing here?” You asked. “Sukuna is known to be unpredictable-” “You think he would be more likely to join you?” You asked. “They don’t call him a king for nothing, he will join no one.” “He’s currently trapped within a particularly strong teenager, a vessel I made to contain his power, under the watchful six eyed sorcerer.” The curse under your technique explained and you smirked. “And you're convinced that it will stay that way without your help?” You asked. “I know it will be with Gojo Satoru watching.” Kenjaku said and you shook your head. “Naive.” You muttered before lifting the cursed technique “leave before I kill you myself.”

You were out again, you hadn’t been bothered by those curses again but equally you hadn’t felt your brother’s power either, you hadn’t expected to when the curse womb made itself known but there he was. “Must you terrorise all life?” You asked leaning against the tree as you watched him fight the poor teenager. “I’m giving him the chance to save his friend.” Sukuna smirked as he looked at you, still easily dodging him. “You look well.” “I’m bored, you took your time coming back.” You sighed as he smirked. “You miss me?” He asked. “Missed the chaos, not you.” You answered “but you won’t be around for much longer, this one's clawing back.” “Hm.” Sukuna grunted. “Use the time to make a pact, a vessel made to contain your power is probably more brawn than brains right?” You asked. “You always were too smart for your own good.” Sukuna muttered and you shrugged. “Wait for me, I’ll bring the fun soon.” He promised. “I should hope so I haven’t waited this long hoping from body to body for you to fail me.” You said kicking yourself off of the tree trunk. “Get to work I’ll only wait for so much longer.”

You had decided to look for a new vessel or curse user to bind yourself to in preparation for your brother returning, you knew that you needed someone a little more vulnerable then the average, someone that you can ‘help’ and then manipulate, your brother loved ruling with it, inspiring it. You much preferred manipulation into loyalty if a subject thought that they owed you something they were far more likely to choose you when they were asked, that was what led you to Junpei in the first place. You started small bumping into him on the street apologising to him, holding a door for him or grumbling at people who caused him some kind of inconvenience, you didn’t need to be a big part of his life not yet, he just needed to know you. Your plan was ruined when Mahito latched onto him far faster than you planned to do and talked him into attacking his school but you managed to use that to your advantage.

“Help… Me.” He pleaded as he looked at the kid that was your brother’s vessel, you could hear the boy begging as Mahito laughed and you assumed that Sukuna was laughing too. “Alright that’s enough of that.” You muttered using your cursed energy to slam Mahito against the wall on the other side of the hall as you walked towards the transfigured human. “Hey you remember me right?” “Mhm.” He hummed almost like it was painful to do so, you reached out a hand touching his cheek and using your reversed curse technique to bring him back to his original form. “Thank you.” Junpei looked over at Mahito on the other side of the hall. “I could protect you from everything, if you wanted, I’ve seen you around, you're a sweet boy and you don’t deserve what has happened to you.” You explained. “Can you save my mum?” He asked. “She’s already passed?” You asked. “Yes.” He answered. “I can not reverse death.” You answered with a soft sigh. “I have no one left.” His eyes watered as he looked at you. “Do you want a friend that can never leave you, one that depends on you the same way that you depend on them?” You asked. “Y-you?” He asked. “Me.” You nodded, putting your hand out “state your terms and I will state mine then we confirm the deal by connecting our hands.” “I want you to protect me from any harm, stay by my side and be my friend, one that comes when I call.” He stated and you smiled. “I want the freedom to use my power how I see fit, to work with my brother when he asks and the ability to take control when I say the word activate.” You explained wiggling your fingers as you waited for him to accept. “Junpei don’t!” Yuji yelled. “Don’t worry Yuji, I’ll be okay, they’ll keep me safe.” He smiled through tears as he took your hand finalising the deal, the body you were in dropped to the floor as you took up the place of Junpei's bonded spirit. The pulse of energy seemed to call sorcerers in the area because by the time Junpei and Yuji had gotten downstairs the six eyes user and another sorcerer were waiting. “Yuji what happened?” The six eyes user asked but his eyes moved to where you were hanging over Junpei’s shoulder. “You can see me, can't you six eyes?” You asked. “Who are you?” He asked. “You know that already, think harder.” You teased. “You thought I was bad in this form.” Sukuna’s voice emitted from somewhere on Yuji’s body “no one ever talked about my older sibling but they should have, they were the one that taught me what I know and always reminded me that there was so much that they hadn’t taught me.” “You flatter me little brother.” You waved him off as you rested your chin on Junpei’s shoulder. “You have no need to worry about me yet…” “Uhh this is going to be even harder to explain to the higher ups, they’re going to think I’m doing this on purpose.” He groaned. “Time to tell them that the cursed siblings are back.”

*Part 2*

Request Here!!

#jujustu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujustu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujustu kaisen #ryomen sukuna imagine #ryomen sukuna oneshot #ryomen #ryomen sukuna #imagine #oneshot #one shot #reader insert #x reader #junpei yoshino #junpei yoshino imagine #junpei yoshino oneshot

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wangxianficfinder · 2 months

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Fic Finder

Apr 7th

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1. Would have been Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian.

After the Sunshoot campaign and for some reason Wei Wuxian is in Cloud Recess and Lan Qiren discovers that they don’t have a core. But the lan clan had a technique to fix a lost core for others that had been attacked by others that could melt their core. @nikkiwhitecraft

I was the requester for #1.

I am sure that part of the story that Wei Wuxian and Lan Q had to travel, and that was when it was discovered that Wei Wuxian had no core, and Lan Q was annoyed he never said anything and the Lan Clan had a technique to restore a core that was lost/melted as the core melting clan was known.

Thats all I remeber

NOT FOUND Righteous at a Cost by thunderwear (G, 21k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, no one dies, LQR finds out about WWX’s core, WWX and LQR are friends??, In My Fic?, its more likely than you think, LWJ in the bg like whats happening?, Fluff, WWX goes to Gusu, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal) Might be this? LQR discovers WWX lost his core, brings him back to CR & finds a way to restore it

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2. Hey! Im looking for a fic where the jins got the tiger tally, and that they wanted to 'flood the world with vermillion light'. I remember that it was post-the first siege of the burial mounds, and WY was maybe dead? After which the other sects had to fight the Jins, and there was also something about the people wishing that WY was alive. Please help me find it! Thank you so much!

FOUND! I'm pretty sure this is the deleted "When the World Comes Crumbling Down, you Will Call my Name" by pft_a_Frog22. The archive link was https://archiveofourown.org/works/35867848.

the deleted fic for #2 can be found at the wayback machine here

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3. Hi! I’m searching for a fiction on AO3 where Wei Wuxian is a Rogue cultivator, he founds Lan Wangji floating in a river/lake and saves him. Wangji don’t remember anything due to the trauma he has suffered and his core is damaged altogether. He had a severe injury on his back but when he recovers he starts to travel with Wei Wuxian, not knowing his brother is searching for him. Because of his poor health issues he breakdown with a fever in the middle of a hunt, far from everything, during this time Lan Wangji loses consciousness, Wei Ying is visited by a strange fox spirit, really creepy whom he made a pact with to save Lan Wangji life's. In the history, Wei Ying has an uncle that reach both of them to advise something, Lan Wangji discorver to be a really powerfull fox spirit, i think they call him Huxia or something like this, Wei Ying "dies" by the venom of a fierce corpse (most like become one of them) and is ressurected by the Jade Emperor himself, the Demon subdue palace is actually a palace and Wangji's mother was the previous Huxia.

I’m going crazy cuz I remember ALL the history, but not the name of the fiction.

I appreciate the help with all my little heart. ❤️ @myukisora

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4. Hi, could you please help me find a wangxian fic? I apologize for the inconvenience, especially because i don’t remember much of the plot except select few parts of it and i dont remember if it was a thread on twitter or on ao3.

The scenes i do remember are as followed: Prior to this scene, wangxian might have had an argument or were avoiding each other because i dont think they had spoken to each other in a while. The scene i remember is WWX going to JYL’s place where everyone is gathered for a get together, wwx dotes over JL, going on about how he’s the favorite uncle. When he enters the living room, he sees LWJ on the couch, and sitting next to him is JZX half brother MXY talking to him. He thinks they are sitting a little too close and he gets a bit jealous but doesn’t say anything. I’m not sure if I remember it right, but i think people or mainly nhs kept saying how MXY resembles WWX, worsening the situation. Wangxian and their whole eye contact happens and everyone in the room is tense because of their interaction or lack their of. WWX suddenly goes to the bathroom, leaning into the sink…waiting and LWJ follows him in. They end up reconciling.

Thats all I remember, I know its not much, and i have been struggling as well because of it going through my bookmarks on ao3 and twitter. I’m hoping someone remembers this part as well and can mention the fic. Thank you!

Hi, the fic you mentioned is not the one :/ i am so sorry for the inconvenience. I can try adding more context. It’s the fic about WWX entering JYL’s party at her place and finding LWJ sitting on a couch with MXY. The scene is towards the very end so MXY’s presence is more of a cameo, he wasn’t present for the fic. WX might have a fwb situation that went wrong or it might be a lwj fucks fic. Lwj follows wwx to the br, its tense as wwx stares at him through the mirror but they both make up

NOT FOUND Talk Hard by DeviyudeThoolika (E, 161k, wangxian, LXC/JYL, JZX/WQ, JC/MM, Modern, College/University, Roommates/Housemates, rare pairs galore, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Separations, Getting Back Together, BAMF WWX, Drunk LWJ, Protective WWX, Good Parent YZY, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Cultivation Sect Politics, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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5. Hi,

I’m trying to find a fanfic where instead of Jin Zixuan dying to Wen Ning at the pass it was Wei wuxian who pushed him out of the way and died instead? I’ve been trying for ages and still can find it. Thank you!

neither of these are exactly what you described, but it might be

NOT FOUND! A Butterfly Flaps, A Sword Stabs by RadAceFriend (T, 37k, JZX/JYL, JZX & WWX, JZX & LWJ, JZX & JGY, JZX & JL, Major Characted Death, JZX Lives, WWX does not, background wangxian, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Sect Leader JZX, POV JZX, Canon Divergence, the horrifying experience of killing someone you didn't like much, and finding out that you're one of the only people you know upset about it, Wen Remnants Live, LSZ is a Wen, WangXian Get a Happy Ending)

NOT FOUND! in this place where we don’t have a prayer by Cerusee, Mikkeneko (T, 42k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, WWX dies at Qiongqi path, Demonic Cultivation)

FOUND! finding you always, all ways by BlueFrogs (T, 31k, WangXian, ChengQing, Reincarnation, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Romance, Memory Loss, technically there is character death, but he comes back lol, Age Difference, due to reincarnation)

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6. Hi, hope you are having a great day! Could you, please, help find a fic, which, I think, had a wangxian arranged marriage due to growing Wen threat, but honestly cannot remember the exact premise. But there was a scene where wrh manages to get wq married to lwj as a second wife, and wwx felt like he failed the Jiang-Lan alliance. And there was a big confrontation between wq and wwx, where she tells him the reason for the marriage was to save her family. And lwj might have been ill or cursed and wearing a mask (not sure).

FOUND? The deleted "A Price to Pay" by wangxianist.

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7. Looking for help finding the name of this fic on ao3 I’m have trouble hunting it back down. Burial mounds settlement days canon divergence.

Essentially the premise is that the people living in Yiling often see Wei Ying taking care of and teaching A-Yuan by the river and a woman one day who was also there to wash her clothes asked him to look after her son while she was busy. This snowballed into Wei Ying basically running a little informal school out of Yiling where he teaches and just looks after any child that is brought there, including orphans and prostitute’s children which is kinda illegal. Lan Zhan knows and regularly visits. If the children show aptitude for cultivation they usually get sent to the Lan or (later in the story) the Jiang. The rest of the Wens kinda accidentally become a part of the Yiling community so much so that they all move out of the burial mounds and into the town proper. Because they’ve all left the mounds and disconnected pretty hard from the cultivation community they don’t even realize that the Jin’s sent people to attack the mounds. They found no one and declared to the world that they had slayed the rest of the wen dogs alongside Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng only finds out his brother is alive because he’s been informed that a small school in the Jiang territory hasn’t been paying taxes and when he goes to investigate finds Wei Ying safe and sound. @coffeehousefanfics

FOUND? Just as the Snow Melts by draechaeli (T, 66k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, SL/XXC, Everybody Lives AU, Canon Divergence)

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8. Hello, could you please help me find a fic where Lan Zhan finds a number to call Wei Ying which Help? to people at night and calls himself patriarch yilin afterwards They (wei Ying and lan Zhan) meet in the university library

FOUND? Maybe You’re the Reason by Clearpearls (E, 67k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Phone Sex, slight D/s, Secret Identity, Praise Kink, Phone Sex Operator WWX, he’s part-time though, slight internalized sexual repression, Fluff, Light Angst, Dirty Talk Orgasm Delay/Denial, Slow Burn, Sub LWJ, Bottom LWJ, Vibrators, Aftercare, Introspection)

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9. There's an au where Wangxian are like murder husbands and it has very dark themes. It's a series but I remember one of the fics in it had a scene where a woman tries to get their attention so the other cuts off her body parts or something like that? Would you be able to help me find it?

FOUND? So Full Of Love (Wouldn't Know Where to Start) by witchupbitch (M, 63k, wangxian, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Possessive LWJ, Protective LWJ, Blood and Violence, Killing, Idiots in Love, Humor, Mafia AU, Modern, Flirting, shameless WWX, Confident WWX, Explicit Language, Swearing, Mutual Sexual Tension, dark LWJ, Dark WWX, They're both twisted, Exhibitionism, Sex, Possessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings)

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10. Hey!!! Love your work!

Do you know of a fic where jiang cheng's younger self sort of takes over his future self for some while before going back and this repeats for some time? I remember a young jiang cheng talking to older wwx. Older wwx doesn't believe that it's really the younger jc so he asks him to ask about why wwx dislikes dogs (i think). Young jc asks young wwx and it's because www had a pet dog named 'doggie' who had turned on him during the winter. Sorry that's all I can remember

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11. Hi, I dunno if my ask got lost in the mail but i was looking for a fic that had a line "lan wangji was a musician, he know how to make his hands do different things" in reference to one hand jackin wwx off and the other up his ass. if this sounds familiar lemme know please

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12. Hi! I really am looking for this story in AO3 and still can't find it. It was about Wei Wuxian who got married to Wen Chao but Lan Zhan couldn't take it so he plans to take Wei Wuxian back by claiming Wei Wuxian each time he got (even in the wedding night of WWX and WC) and destroying the company of the Wens. As they (LWJ & WWX) continued the deed, WWX ended up pregnant and LWJ is more than determined to take WWX back. I do hope you can help me find this story. Thank you in advance!😘

FOUND? 姻緣 | this marriage was always predestined by saccharinings (E, 43k, wangxian, Cheating, Infidelity, not between wangxian, WWX is married and LWJ persuades him to cheat on his husband with him, Dark LWJ, A/B/O, Feminizing Language, Exhibitionism, Size Difference, WagnXian Have a Breeding Kink, Stomach Bulge, Possessive LWJ, Manipulation, WWX Wears Lingerie, Rape/Non-con Elements, for one part, Hair-pulling Kink, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Mirror Sex, Vibrators, Phone Sex, Rimming, Edgeplay, slight choking kink, Light Bondage, Inappropriate Use of Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, LJY's Big Fat Crush on Milfxian, Pregnant WWX, WangXian Endgame, Spanish Translation)

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13. Hello! I've been trying to find a fic I lost on AO3 for a few days now so hopefully you can help 💚💚

It was canon-verse but an AU where lwj and wwx hadn't met and wwx was still the Yiling Patriarch. Someone has an idea to give wwx a "bride" and wwx picks lwj and he goes to live at the burial grounds with wwx and the wens. At some point lwj gets stabbed and almost dies and wwx reveals he picked lwj because he assumed lwj would be in on some kind of plan to spy on/hurt wwx and the wens but lwj wasnt a part of that at all. It had a happy ending but i cant remember exactly what it was. Pls help 🥺 i want it in my bookmarks soooo bad

FOUND? 💖🔒 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it's gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn't begin until chapter 19!, bottom LWJ in chapter 20 and 27)

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14. For the next fox finder

Pls help me find this fic where wwx and lwj are night hunting and wwx gets hurt badly lwj makes a deal with a spirit/god but in exchange to save wwx he will lose his love/ emotions (he only acts on what’s needed not on the things he like or is want)

Wwx ofc suffers because of this but is able to re awake lwj love after 3 years while he’s playing wangxian (( he has already lost hope lwj would recover his emotions))

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15. hi! im looking for a post canon fic where jc sends a letter to cloud recesses saying that gusu lan owes him a debt since wwx married into the lan. lwj responds very angrily. it wasnt jc friendly and at the end of the fic, wwx finds a bitter letter from jc who dies alone. wwx and lwj live longer and happier lives. id love it if you could find it, thank you!

FOUND! The Price of a Golden Core by AshayaTReldai (M, 9k, wangxian, LXC & WWX, WWX & JC, Major Character Death, Angst, Tension, Aggression, JC pays the price for his choices, demanding letters, JC is a Brat, Supportive Lan Brothers, WWX deserves the best, Life Debt, Sad Ending, Sad Ending for JC)

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16. Hi! So, I’m looking for an AO3 fic, Lán Zhan/Wei Ying, that I read what feels like years ago and I can’t find it again. I remember it is a bit of a dark lan zhan or dark cloud recess fic, with Wei Ying being brought to this ‘hunt’ type thing with a group of people. I believe all the people brought are given Lán Zhans scent, so that he may track them. I also believe that it’s not expected that the participants will survive, and they’re being offered a reward if they do. Please help me find it! @diabolic17

FOUND? 🔒 Five Fifteen by 3neetee (M, 11k, wangxian, rape/non-con, modern, ABO, alpha LWJ, omega WWX, mating runs, graphic depictions of violence, dom/sub undertones, light bondage, rape/non-con elements, dark LWJ, betrayal)

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17. Hey mods! 💜

I’m pretty sure I found this fic on here but now I can’t seem to find it. I’m not sure if it was on a itmf or fic finder. But it’s the one where wwx takes a curse from some ghost in order for her to move on. It’s a curse where he can’t see or feel anyone that feels “strongly” about him. He assumes the juniors all either hate or fear him and I forgot what he assumed lwj. They say to break the curse he has to accept the others’ feelings. So he tried to accept the fact that jin ling hated him although jin ling did not mean what he said and was confused at how wwx reacted. I think lan jinyi was the one who figured out wwx couldn’t see them because he launched at him as if he was going to attack him and wwx didn’t flinch. In the end he starts seeing and feeling impressions of them until he can see them in full again. Please help? I’ve been through my history and bookmarks and all open tabs of ao3. No such luck.

Thanks for all that you do! @jikcf

FOUND! See Me, Feel Me (Listening to You) by Ghost_Honey (T, 29k, WangXian, POV WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, WWX’s Abyssmal Self-Esteem, Emotional Healing, Angst, The Juniors love their Senior Wei, Curses, WWX is an Unreliable Narrator, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling)

~*~

18. Hi! I’m searching for a fic that I’m pretty sure was a threadfic on twitter... It was foxian and dragonji, and LWJ came across WWX while he was in heat in a cave and they mated. WWX went back to Lotus Pier not knowing who he’d been with only to find himself pregnant. He has hybrid babies and LWJ eventually tracks him down and he turns out to be a prince or something? WWX goes to visit Cloud Recesses, still unsure about LWJ. There was also a scene when one of the babies gets snatched by an eagle or some other bird and LWJ saves them? I think that’s as far as I got, as it was a WIP at the time and I lost track of it. Thank you!

FOUND? Twitter thread by cerbykerby (wangxian, cw: dubcon, mpreg, memory loss)

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19. Hello! Hope you're well! I've been looking for a fic like crazy and have not been able to find it, so hopefully you know it? It's a fic where instead of nie mingjue dying, nie huisang dies as a result of jgy and nmj attacks the cloud recesses because he blames Lan xichen in part due to him defending jgy. Please help me find this if you can. Thank you in advance!!! 🫶🙏🏼 @cherryblossom8

FOUND! Digging Graves by nirejseki (Not rated, 13k, NHS & NMJ, WWX & XY, wangxian, Revenge, Broken Moral System, Non-Graphic Violence, the masterless sabers)

~*~

20. Pls there was this one fic in ao3 , I was so looking forward to it but I lost it 😭😭😭I don’t know much about it but the summary was smth like Wwx getting pregnant and being in an island?? Shizui grows up and smth please 😭

FOUND? The Winner Takes It All by YilingSani (M, 46k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Parent WWX, Old Friends, One Night Stands, No Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Forgiveness, Second Chances, Inspired by Mamma Mia! (Movies) Teen Pregnancy, Mpreg, mention of miscarriage, Birth Trauma, amniotic fluid embolism)

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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tossawary · 2 months

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Thinking about the actual living arrangements between Wu Yanzi and Shen Jiu is interesting, because I would think that Wu Yanzi should be more than a little concerned that his new apprentice might decide to turn that bloody sword on him sooner or later.

Putting this below a cut because I'm talking about child abuse here.

You can come up with all sorts of angsty, abusive behavior for Wu Yanzi on the premise that he's afraid of what Shen Jiu might do, simpler examples being things like "he might have made Shen Jiu sleep outside if he was ever taking a room at an inn" and "he might have regularly taken all of Shen Jiu's belongings away because he couldn't 'trust' his disciple with them". More extreme, antagonizing examples being things like "he might have tied Shen Jiu up at night like a dog" or "he might have planted some kind of talismans that prevented Shen Jiu from coming near him or from leaving a small space". He might have even been "matter of fact" about it. Not obviously taking pleasure in a "necessary measure".

I don't think Wu Yanzi treated Shen Jiu like complete shit all the time, I think it probably would have depended on his moods, as it does with many abusers. I just think it's interesting to think about why exactly young Shen Jiu was "terrified to death" of this person. There has to have been a line of "worth putting up with this to learn some cultivation techniques" keeping Shen Jiu from deciding to just risk it and try to kill Wu Yanzi (the line ends up being Yue Qi at the Conference).

It's possible that Wu Yanzi treated Shen Jiu kind of okay most of the time, actually, trusting in his young apprentice's fear without relying on any kind of physical abuse. At the beginning, Wu Yanzi is something of a cultivator and Shen Jiu is not. By forcing Shen Jiu to participate in his foul crimes, he makes it harder for Shen Jiu to leave him, because now Wu Yanzi can threaten to TELL PEOPLE what Shen Jiu has done. And seeing Wu Yanzi kill people in horrific ways such as the Cursed Black Light talismans functions as a very effective threat by itself. "Behave or I'll kill you," is probably all the rope that Wu Yanzi would need to tie Shen Jiu up at night, honestly, stopping his apprentice from killing him in his sleep. Verbal threats and abuse are more than enough, especially when said by an actual murderer.

I think it's interesting to think about the different ways that abuse manifests, and how the different styles of abuse from Qiu Jianluo and Wu Yanzi might have affected Shen Jiu. We don't see a lot of Shen Jiu's life with Wu Yanzi, so we don't know whether or not his behavior was playfully cruel or tersely paranoid or coldly detached. It's easier to draw links between Shen Jiu's abusive treatment of Luo Binghe and Qiu Jianluo's abuse of Shen Jiu.

Anyway, I was thinking about this because I was thinking about more Canon Divergence AUs for Qijiu. Like, what if, after killing Qiu Jianluo, Shen Jiu gets a taste of what his life will be like under Wu Yanzi and throws caution to the wind to murder this guy? He desperately wants to learn cultivation, yes, but he doesn't want another master. Maybe there's some bounty on Wu Yanzi's head and Shen Jiu decides to take it, and hopefully leverage the kill as his legitimate entrance into the cultivation world?

I'm wondering how easy it would be to somehow get Shen Jiu to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect when Yue Qi has been trapped in the Ling Xi caves. I don't think that Shen Jiu would be happy about Yue Qi's imprisonment at all. That could end up being a very dramatic rescue.

#tossawary svsss #fic ideas #wu yanzi #shen jiu #yue qingyuan

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paroslineage · 3 months

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Unnerving Silence

Tengen Uzui x Fem!Reader

TW : Blood, Reader Death, Canon Divergence.

This is my own original idea and the characters of KNY do not belong to me but Koyoharu Gotouge. Do not steal :/

Genre : Complete Angst.

You had fought with Tengen and several others against Muzan. You had won, but at a cost....?

You had taken an injury to your stomach while protecting one of the others, yet had still managed to fight, which had only torn the injury wider.

Now, after the fight, you had curled up around yourself, tense and strained, trying to stop the bleeding as you lay, coughing blood among the burning wreckage of the battle.

Suddenly, you felt strong arms wrap around you, like you’re being pressed to someone’s chest.

“Hey, you’re too flashy to die.” Tengen’s sharp voice said, trying to get you to look up at him.

"h-heh" You chuckled weakly and spat blood on the earth next to you.

“Hey, look up at me, you’re worrying me.” He said, his face shifting into a concerned frown.

You looked up at him weakly the light in your e/c eyes diminishing by every second.

“Y-You’re bleeding too much!” He says, sounding worried, before his much larger battle hardened hands shift and cover your wound.

“You were supposed to be flashy and resilient, you weren’t supposed to get hurt! What’d I tell you?” He says, trying to sound as stern as he can, but the worry in his voice is prominent.

"I'm sorry... Tengen sama" You said slurring

“No sorry’s , just focus on your breathing, that’s an order.” Tengen says, his fuchsia coloured eyes flashing darkly , his breathing sharp.

He seems to be having trouble staying in control, and his fleek flamboyant eyebrows are starting to twitch.

"I'm weak..not as flashy as you are .."

“Shut up. You’re just as flashy as me, even if you don’t think it, you know that! So don’t call yourself weak.” He says, sounding stern again as he tries to reassure you.

“Just stay here, stay with me, keep your eyes open..” He says, starting to sound calmer again.

you try to move and end up crying out in pain instead

He grits his teeth, trying to keep you calm, before his expression softens although distressed again. “Hey, try not to move. Try to be nice to my ears, alright? I don’t want to hear you in pain.” He says, his voice turning more gentle and soft again, as if he’s speaking to a child.

"S-shut up..." You snapped weakly and playfully at the flamboyant man holding you carefully as porcelain.

“Hey, you don’t need to talk if it pains you so much. Okay?” chuckles forcefully , his hands tightening around you.

“Just focus on your breathing..”

"I can't...my lungs burst.. in the process of using my breathing technique." You grit out painfully.

His eyes go wide, before he takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes.

“Deep breath in... Hold it... Now breathe out..” He says and starts to take slow breaths, the worry and concern in his voice is replaced by a more concentrated tone.

He holds your hands to his chest, pressing them to your wound. “Now do exactly what I do, alright? Just focus on your breathing.” He says.

"That's what I said...I can't do it...it Hurts" you whimper in extreme agony.

His eyes go wide, before he takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes.

your breath hitches and start going numb.

"......Tengen sama.." Your feeble voice calls out.

His eyes slowly narrow, as if he’s trying to fight something. “Keep breathing, that’s an order.” He says, his voice slightly stern again.

“Do you hear me?” He asks.

"everything is blurry ...what is happening" You slurr out.

He closes his eyes, as if trying to focus. “Listen to me. Don’t lose sight of me. Don’t let your eyes flutter closed. You hear me?” He asks, his voice sharp.

"....." You offer him silence.

His eyes start to twitch again, his voice sounding frustrated.

“You hear me?! Don’t leave me, just stay here with me, okay?” He asks, his voice softening again. “Don’t leave me, I can’t do this without you..” He adds quietly.

"it hurts so bad ...." Your voice whimpers.

“I know, I know..” He says in a low voice, his voice shaking slightly, as if he’s about to cry.

“Just keep breathing, we’ve gotten this far together, we gotta finish this together. Okay?” He asks.

“I know it hurts.. But I’m right here, I’m with you. Just… Just keep breathing, I won’t let you die..” He whispers, his voice getting shakier with each passing moment.

"....." You offer him silence.

“I won’t let you die.. Just keep breathing, I’m here with you. We’ve come so far, we can’t give up now.” He says, his eyes filling with tears. “Just.. Just please, please breath..”

"....." silence.

“You can’t die.. I won’t let you die.. Please.. Please listen to me, just keep breathing with me..” He whispers, his voice becoming barely audible.“Breathe, breathe, breathe with me..” He whispers, his eyes clenched tight, as he starts to shake his head.

“I won’t let you die.. I won’t let you.. I.. Please..” He whispers, tears rolling down his cheeks, starting to shake with each deep breath he takes.

“I don’t want to lose you..” He says, his voice sounding heartbroken and upset now. “I don’t want to be alone again.. You’ll survive this right?” He asks desperately.

His breathing starts to slowly quicken, the tears are rolling down his cheeks faster and thicker now.

"Tengen ...sama..." a pitiful whimper.

Your body gives out on the dust of the earth below.

“Y/N..” His voice sounds sharp again, his hands tightening around you. “Wake up! You won’t leave me now, you hear me?! You better not leave me! Don’t you dare leave me alone!” He says, sounding desperate now.

“You’re gonna wake up! You won’t die, you gotta wake up!” He says, his voice starting to break. His hands start to shake again, as his body slowly starts to panic as well.

“I never should’ve let you out there! I should’ve kept you safe with me!” He whispers, his voice faltering now, his grip around you starting to slightly weaken.

“Hey, please wake up!” He says, sounding desperate and upset, as his hands tighten around you again.

He stares down at you, his eyes closed tight, as if he wants you to wake up again. “Please, don’t leave me..” He whispers, as his voice breaks again. “You need to stay alive, I’m nothing without you, I won’t know what to do.”

"Tengen sama please let me go....I'll die any moment".

His eyes narrow again, and his hands once more grip your wound, stopping the blood flow there. “You’re not gonna die, I’m not going to let you!” He says, his voice sounding strong and stern again, as he continues. “You hear me?! I won’t let you die, so stop talking like that, you’re not giving up on me so easily! You’re not dying on me!” He says angrily, as his voice starts to falter again.

He starts to pat your head, seeming more upset that you’d accept your death so easily.

“Hey, listen to me!” He says, his voice sounding stern, but also slightly pained, now. “You aren’t going to die, you hear me!? You’re stronger than this, you’re flashy, you’re strong!” He says, his voice breaking again.

“You don’t get to die, I won’t let you die, don’t leave me here.”

He starts to run his hands over your head, trying to comfort you the only way he knows how.

“Please, please stay with me… just focus on your breathing, I won’t leave you here.. You just have to keep breathing..” He says, once more, now sounding more desperate again.

“Please don’t go, just don’t… You can’t leave me..” He says, starting to choke on his words, as tears start to roll down his cheeks once more.

“I want you here with me..” He says, his voice sounding more desperate and distraught with each sentence he speaks.

“You can’t die on me, I couldn’t bear that..” He says, his hands gripping you tighter again, as he tries to fight back the tears that have started flowing down his cheeks again. “Please.” He whispers, his voice falter again.

“I need you, you’re my second half… And I can’t live by myself.. I couldn’t..” He says, his voice sounding strained and choked, as he grips your hands.

“Please don’t make me give up..” He whispers, his voice growing weaker again, as if he’s about to break down.

"....Tengen...I love you......I love you ...darling".

His eyes snap to you, his grip around you finally softening again.

His hands start to lightly trail over your hair, as he whispers, “What did you say?” He asks, his voice sounding confused. It’s the most sincere you’ve heard him sound yet.

"I love you ...darling mine so much".

His face grows a soft flush now, as he slowly starts to smile. “You do?” He asks, his voice sounding soft and gentle again, now. “You actually love me..?”

"..I'm sorry I couldn't say it any sooner".

He pulls you closer to him, hugging you tightly.

“You could’ve told me sooner, you know that, right? You’re the only one I could ever love as well, so don’t try and apologize for that..” He says, sounding happy now, as he holds you close to his chest.

"I love you too,my flamboyant diamond" Tengen tenderly kisses your forehead.

"....I'm sorry" ...were your last words when you finally passed away in the muscular arms of the Sound Hashira,Tengen Uzui.

Your body starts to go limp against his chest, which causes him to panic again.

“Y/N, don’t do that, wake up! You aren’t gonna leave me, you hear me?! You have to stay with me!” He says, sounding increasingly desperate, as he pats your head and shakes you again.

“Please, Y/N, come on, you’re gonna make me start crying if you don’t come back.. I won’t let you die..” He whispers, his voice breaking.

His hands wrap his arms around you, and he presses close against you, tears finally rolling down his cheeks.

“Please wake up, you don’t have the permission to die without me!” He says, his voice sounding more desperate now. He’s starting to sound more like a scared child than anything else, as he holds you tight.

“I’ll cry and scream and bawl like a child, but I don’t wanna be alone, please, please don’t leave me alone..” He whispers.

“Just wake up, please, I can’t do this on my own.. I’ll be so sad without you.. I’ll forever be sad and alone. I’ll never smile again.” He says, his voice cracking again.

“Just do me a favor, and live for me, Paro..” He whispers, sounding more desperate and sad. “I won’t leave you after taking you away, promise…”

“Please.. Don’t go.. Don’t leave me. not now not ever my darling.”

He finally goes quiet, as he sits there, holding the one person he cares most about close to him.

He gently sits there in the silence, as he holds your limp body close, not wanting to let go.

Tengen Uzui , the Flamboyant Sound Hashira was now broken shell of a man as he cradled you to his chest his expression solemn and in grief as his now dull fuchsia coloured eyes looked down at your peaceful bloodied face.

Tengen Uzui could only take in the the Unnerving Silence before him.

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actuallysaiyan · 4 months

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I Think You're Holding The Heart Of Mine(Part Six)

warnings: canon divergent, mentions of Kento's past, mentions of cheating, mentions of pregnancy/abortion, smoking word count: 1.8k pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: someone from Kento's past comes looking for him, but only makes the rumours even worse than before. Set in Nanami's POV! taglist: @beneathstarryskies

Masterlist

Nanami’s POV

Being together with you on the train ride home reminded me of our younger days. When we were teens going on missions for the school, learning our cursed techniques together. We found out early on that a lot of your abilities worked perfectly with my Ratio technique. It was almost like we were a match made in heaven. Just being able to joke around with you and share a laugh made me feel so much lighter.

That’s why receiving that text really threw me for a loop.

I hadn’t heard from Tara in so long. Really, I had begun to think what happened between her and I had been just a fun little dream. But when I saw that she texted me, I felt my stomach lurch. The memories of my short, but steamy relationship with her came flooding back. And it hurt to think about because finally you and I seemed to be going somewhere in our own budding romance. Something I’ve wanted for so long too, and I’m not in a rush to mess it up for us.

That’s also why I made the excuse of going to check on Itadori-kun when we got back. I didn’t want you to see just how upset this was making me. Cause I know you, and I know you’d just want to ask me if you could do anything to make me feel better. You’re just that kind of sweetheart. So I had to reply to Tara in secret.

I figured just replying to her and just trying to make some conversation would make her go away. But she just kept prying. I wondered if maybe she was lonely. When we broke things off, she tried to convince me that she’d be alright, but I knew she wasn’t. I knew it was killing her inside, but I couldn’t keep up with that facade.

Eventually, I called her to try and keep her calm. She seems so hysterical on the phone, trying to get me to come see her. And that’s when you and Kugisaki-chan came out of my own office and spotted me. I was pacing and trying to calm down Tara. She always had a penchant for being dramatic. Then you and Kugisaki leave the building and my heart sinks. If any of this information ends up coming to you, you’re going to think I was playing you for a fool.

Things only got worse from there. I enter my office after I finish my phone call with Tara. Your perfume lingers in the air and it tugs on my heartstrings. I should have continued to kiss you the other night. I shouldn’t have cared about the elderly innkeeper interrupting us. But I wanted to save you from the embarrassment. Because in my mind, you deserve nothing but the best.

I read over your filed report and I smile when I see just how well you’ve done. You were always someone who could write out the best reports. You put in the right amount of detail, but never enough to bore anyone. It reads so good too; lots of action.

I begin to daydream, thinking about how our night went. The onsen had the perfect temperature. Your body looked so good in that fluffy towel. And your lips, oh your lips…I have never tasted anything sweeter. You’re the epitome of beauty in my eyes. Oftentimes I’ve kicked myself mentally for never telling you just how much I admire and adore you.

Itadori-kun comes to find me, his eyes sparkling when he realizes I’ve returned home. We discuss a few things and I’m thankful that he doesn’t pry at all. He’s a good kid and I know he feels lost in this new world of Jujutsu sorcery, but I’m going to make sure he does well and adjusts in this world.

“I learned a lot with Gojo-sensei,” Itadori says, and I smile.

“I’m glad that he can be a good teacher for you.”

We speak a bit more about unlocking his cursed technique. I want him to find something naturally. He doesn’t need any pressure on him. Then my stomach lurches again when I see Tara texting me again. I know I should just tell her to leave me alone, but I feel almost responsible for her. You’d probably be so angry if you knew that I was texting my ex.

This is when I decide to lead Itadori out of my office and for us to go training outside. I know it’ll help me get my mind off of everything. Yet when we reach the main building, I see a head of red locks that I couldn’t mistake for anyone else. Itadori stops dead in his tracks alongside me, and he’s asking if I’m okay. I’m sure I look like I saw a ghost.

“Honey,” Tara says as she spots me. “Your wife is here!”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

We lean against the wall, smoking a cigarette. The cats out of the bag. I’m sure that Itadori-kun went to tell Kugisaki and she in turn told Gojo. I wish Tara had never greeted herself like that. I wish I could have just taken the time to explain the misunderstanding to Itadori. But I just froze up instead.

“Thanks for hearing me out,” Tara says as she blows out some smoke.

I grunt, “You didn’t give me much of a chance.”

She finally turns to me with tears in her eyes. She’s in a tight spot and she considered me the only person she could actually come to. Her current partner was cheating on her and she found out she’s pregnant. I shouldn’t condone her smoking while being with child, except for the fact that she would be getting an abortion.

“I’m sorry for the little joke back there,” She finally admits. “I’m just so nervous, Ken.”

When she says my name like that, a world of memories comes flooding to my mind. The way she would always draw out these fun feelings from me. Tara was the woman that I had once thought I’d end up with forever. But in reality, she was a bandage for the deep wound in my heart from leaving you behind. I had deeply regretted leaving you when I left the sorcerer world.

“I know, Tara. You have every right to be nervous. But I can be here for you if you need a friend.”

She smiles sadly, and I watch as fat tears begin to slide down her cheeks. I had only seen her crying a few times. Tara was the kind of girl that boasted that she never cried. She was a tough cookie. And I am suddenly reminded as to why I was attracted to her in the first place.

“It’s so tough to be alone in this situation. He doesn’t even know that I’m…I’m…”

But she can’t even finish her sentence. She begins sobbing; the end of her cigarette falling to the ground. I gently take her into my arms, rubbing her back soothingly. I whisper the sweetest things in her ear, hoping to make sure she’s going to be alright.

“I shouldn’t have let you go,” she finally admits.

My heart sinks when she says this. I can’t return those feelings. It hurts to even think about me and her having such a past together. It was only supposed to be a fling, but it evolved into something even deeper. At one point, I had been convinced that I was truly in love with her. And when I had looked into the jewelry store, searching for an engagement ring for her, that’s when I realized what I was doing.

It wasn’t long after that when Gojo approached me with a mission in Hokkaido. He tried to claim that it was the higher ups that wanted me to go, but he had ulterior motives. That’s the same mission he asked me to look after Itadori, and the rest came together easily.

“Tara,” I finally say as I wipe away her tears. “We can’t keep living this lie. I can’t keep lying to myself.”

She pouts, “It’s because of her, isn’t it?”

And while I had been able to lie to her the first time about why we broke up, I can’t hide it anymore. Not when I know for sure that I’m so deeply in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since we were teenagers, but now…it’s so deep. Deeper than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.

“Yes,”

She sniffles and turns away for a moment. I can tell she’s not happy with my answer. I don’t think she’s ever enjoyed feeling second best to you, but I couldn’t help it. I never could truly get you out of my mind. I could never ever get you out of my heart.

“She’s a lucky girl,” Tara says, a sad smile on her face. “Have you told her that you love her?”

I shake my head, “No, I haven’t.”

She lightly slaps my chest and scolds me for not telling you my true feelings. But if anyone catches wind of this, I’m sure that you might think differently. For all I know, you probably think I’m a cheating asshole. Everyone has probably told you that Tara is my wife when she isn’t.

“You need to hold her in your arms, kiss her deeply and tell her you’ll never let her go,”

I can hear the crack in Tara’s voice. It’s tugging at my heartstrings. Despite the fact that I don’t love her like that, Tara has always been in my heart too. She’s the one woman who pushed me to be comfortable with things that scare me. She was the one who showed me that being wild and free can be so much fun. She took me under her wing in a way, and now I think I need to return the favor.

“Tara, I will be with you while you get the procedure done,”

She smiles again, “You are a true gentleman, Nanami.”

I sigh as I light up another cigarette. This is going to be a headache to reverse all these rumors. You’re probably never going to want to talk to me again. You’ll want to leave the sorcerer world again, and I wouldn’t even blame you. I know that you didn’t have the easiest time when you left as well, but I know that my life has been so much better now that we’ve been reunited.

“I’ll call you, okay? Please, I just need a friend right now. And you’re all I’ve got.”

I nod once more, “Of course. But please promise me one thing,”

She tilts her head to the side, “What is it?”

“Do not introduce yourself as my wife ever again.”

A laugh from her red lips, “Fine, but you have to admit it was a funny joke.”

It’s not funny because I think I may have lost the love of my life over this joke…

#bacon.writes #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento fluff #nanami imagines #jjk nanami x reader #jjk nanami x you

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