#wisteria sorts

[wisteria-lodge]

SORTING DISNEY VILLAINS (1937-1989)

For  *spooky season.* I suspect this will be easier than sorting the heroes, who tend to be reactive while villains are very clear about what they want and what exactly they’re going to do to get it. Let’s see if this ends up being the case. 

I go into a lot more detail about this character analysis system here, and talk about the move away from the HP terminology here. But here are the basics: 

PRIMARY (ie MOTIVE)

BADGER ~ Loyal to the group.

SNAKE ~ Loyal to yourself and your Important People.

LION ~ Subconscious Idealist. Ideals are linked to feelings and instincts.

BIRD ~ Conscious Idealist. Ideals are linked to built systems and external facts.

SECONDARY (ie METHOD)

BADGER ~ Connect with the group. Make allies, work steadily and well. Be whatever the situation calls for. If you find a locked door, knock.

SNAKE ~ Connect with the environment. Notice things. Tell people what they want to hear. If you find a locked door, get in through the window.

BIRD ~ Collect skills, knowledge, tools, personas, useful friends. If you find a locked door, track down the key or learn to pick the lock.

LION ~ Be honest, be direct, speak your truth. Either the obstacle is going down or you are. If you find a locked door, kick it in.

THE EVIL QUEEN (1937) - BURNT BADGER / BIRD

So. I know that in Snow White the Queen's Thing is Vanity, but.  The ‘Vain Villainess’ trope is about the fear of becoming less powerful in a world that only values you for your looks.... which doesn’t actually seem to be her issue? The Queen seems pretty darn unchallenged in her universe. That’s almost part of the problem - there’s an addiction/obsession/paranoia flavor to the way she’s constantly checking in with the Mirror.

I don’t think the Queen is actually obsessed with Snow White’s beauty. I think she’s obsessed with her innocence, her “heart” (that’s literally what she asks the Huntsman to bring her, Snow’s heart in a box.) Snow White isn’t just the “fairest” as in the prettiest, but the fairest as in the most fair-minded, the most honorable. The presence of Snow, with her optimism, kindness, and trust is an existential threat, proof that the Queen is going about things all wrong. Her power definitely has a edge of sadism: She forces Snow to wear rags (none of the other princesses wear *rags.*) And I’ll be haunted by this image of the Queen’s dungeons forever.

So even though my first instinct was to go Hedonist Snake primary for the Evil Queen, that’s not right. She’s not focused on enjoying herself. She doesn’t seem conscious enough of her own desires to be a Bird, and Exploded Lion is possible… but I’m going with Burnt Badger. An obsession with being “Fairest of them all” seems to suggest a group-focused, External-facing primary, and I absolutely see how the extremely UnBurnt Badger Snow White would really get under a Burnt Badger’s skin. 

Obviously a Bird secondary. The Evil Queen is Mad Scientist coded, even has a literal evil laboratory. The “Old Crone” plan features a transformation, a costume, and is very much an Actor Bird persona.  

THE WICKED STEPMOTHER (1950) - SNAKE / BADGER

While she does seem to get some sort of sadistic pleasure out of controlling Cinderella, the Wicked Stepmother’s main motivation is her daughters. Her daughters kind of suck, but that doesn’t actually matter. The Stepmother is going to make sure they get that happy ending, with all the targeted loyalty of a Snake Primary. There’s a Badger secondary in there too, which you can see in the way she’s… subtle. The Stepmother takes away Cinderella‘s privilege bit by bit… but never actually goes after her directly. She manipulates her daughters into doing her dirty work (like the way they tear up Cinderella’s dress) so she can always maintain plausible deniability. She’s prim, she’s proper, she’s Lady Tremaine. Dark Courtier Badger, all the way. 

THE QUEEN OF HEARTS (1951) - LION / LION

This Queen’s thing is that she’s childish. She wants what she wants NOW. Doesn’t matter if it makes sense, doesn’t matter if it’s impossible. The Queen of Hearts functions as both a lesson to Alice (authority figures don’t always know what they’re talking about) and as a warning (this could be you if you don’t navigate the transition to adulthood properly.) I see a very young Glory Hound Lion primary in the way she forces everyone else to cheat so she gets the emotional reward of winning the croquet game. I also want to attribute the Queen of Hearts’ extremely short fuse to her Lion primary - she acts on what she’s feeling the *second* she starts feeling it, and never questions this. Also she's a Lion secondary. There’s no plan. She lives in Wonderland. She’s living moment to moment.

CAPTAIN HOOK (1953) - BADGER / SNAKE

Unlike the Queen of Hearts, Captain Hook does not seem to be *of* the magical land he lives in. He is this outside force trying to impose order on Neverland, leading the only rigid organization there and constantly tying up/imprisoning the main characters. Hook is also the only one th threatened by the concept of time (the ticking crocodile.) *Peter* will never grow old. But somehow Captain Hook will? Or feels like he will? Tradition also says that the actor playing Wendy’s controlling father should play Hook as well, so there's definitely something about toxic order or toxic control going on (the Disney film uses the same voice actor in both roles.) So in the world of Peter Pan, Hook/Father becomes representative of adulthood/society/the Man. That makes him an Authoritarian Badger primary, defined by his organizations.

For his secondary - Hook’s not much of a planner. He’s most effective while he is talking an angry Tinker Bell into helping him, and in that scene he’s charming. He flatters her, pivots according to what he thinks she wants to hear, and while Courtier Badger secondary is possible, I think this feels more like Snake. (I also think you have to be some kind of Improvisational secondary in order to hold your own against Peter.) It makes sense - Hook has to be appealing and seductive as well as threatening, because that's kind of what adulthood is.

MALEFICENT (1959) - BIRD / LION

Maleficent’s feels socially slighted in a very *abstract* way. She doesn’t seem to have an emotional response to either the other fairies OR the King and Queen OR Aurora. Her curse doesn’t have anything to do with with her social standing, or her power, or her role in the kingdom. We actually don’t know what Maleficent’s deal is. Maybe by not inviting her to the christening the kingdom has broken some important Rule of hers. Or maybe she’s just torturing people because she’s bored, and this is a fun Project. (That is her plan with Phillip after all, and this image will ALSO always haunt me.)

But either way, she’s a Bird primary. The only question is if she’s more of a System-Building Bird, or a Project Bird. 

Unusually for such a cold villain, I think I want to give her a Lion secondary. She’s patient, and her plans take place over long time-frames, but the plans themselves are direct - “When your daughter turns sixteen, I will kill her.” Done. Also, when Maleficent is threatened, she turns into a giant dragon who certainly does not plan, and her goons (while useless) are very loyal. So another point for Inspirational secondary.

CRUELLA DE VIL (1961) - LION / LION

Cruella wants a coat made out of Dalmatian puppies. That’s  it. So I'm putting her in the same category as Hannibal Lecter, someone doing this for the *art,*  the ~*~aesthetic~*~ of the thing. But unlike Hannibal, nothing about Cruella is cold or considered. I don’t think she’d be able to tell you why she wants that Dalmatian coat apart from “It’s fabulous, darling.” So instead of going Bird primary (the typical Weird Villain sorting) I’m saying she's a Lion. Cruella seems to have an aesthetic-based morality: "fabulous" and "non-fabulous," instead of "good" and "bad." She’s a Fay Lion primary, like Jack Sparrow.

Her secondary is harder. She definitely has goons, but they’re useless, and don’t seem to like her much. She doesn’t plot or face-change. She clearly likes Anita and doesn’t like Roger, and never bothers to mask this. Cruella first tries to buy the puppies - then sort of seems surprised when this doesn’t work? Honestly, the main impression I get from her is that she’s… not trying very hard. She only really starts to care right at the very end, when she’s driving with wild hair and crazy eyes, as her roadster falls apart around her. I’m going with Lion secondary to reflect that tendency she has to operate at either 1% or 100%.

MADAME MIM (1963) - LION / SNAKE

Madame Mim has a sort of a professional rivalry going on with Merlin, and dislikes that Wart calls him “the greatest wizard in the land.” So of course she challenges him to a wizard duel. She wants to be the best, she wants to win… and that’s all there is to it. So we have another Glory Hound Lion primary. 

It’s very clear that Madame Mim loves transformation. She switches between her different faces as many times as she possibly can over the course of a single conversation. Notably, she has a sexy version of herself that she uses to charm people into doing what she wants… and there’s no reason she couldn’t wear that all the time. But she doesn’t want to. Mim gets a lot of joy out of her fluid Snake secondary, and when she’s not solving a problem she just wants to chill out in Neutral. 

PRINCE JOHN (1973) - EXPLODED SNAKE / BIRD

Prince John’s motivation has a couple of  layers. Obviously, he’s a *little* bit too excited about taxing on the citizens of Nottingham… but that’s because he’s overcompensating. His main visual design element is a crown that doesn’t fit. He’s not King John, he's Prince John, only in charge until his other (better) brother Richard comes home from the Crusades. That’s why he’s so easily flattered - he’s incredibly insecure. But his conflict isn't with Richard, exactly. It’s really... mommy issues. Everything John does is to please Mummy (an off screen-character.) Very Exploded Snake primary. 

Secondary is hard because John is incompetent. He mostly solves problems by pointing the Sheriff of Nottingham at them. It’s a running joke that he doesn’t actually listen to his advisor Sir Hiss, who generally has the right idea but isn't a suck-up. I guess John does lay kind of sophisticated traps for Robin Hood?  They don’t work, but the intent at least is Bird. So I guess I would have to go with that - a pretty incompetent Bird secondary. 

PROFESSOR RATIGAN (1986) - BURNT SNAKE / BIRD

Unlike Madame Mim and Merlin, whatever Basil of Baker Street and Ratigan have going on does not feel like a professional rivalry. Technically Ratigan is plotting a coup… but he spends approximately 85% of his on-screen time entirely focused on Basil. They are at least ex-friends who now hate each other (and it’s really easy to read them as straight-up bitter exes.) Even his hatred of being called a “rat” seems to be linked to Basil - that's an insult Basil uses, implying that Ratigan is motivated by hedonism and ego, and not by the purity of the puzzle the way that Bird Primary Basil is. Really, he’s criticizing Ratigan for having a Snake primary motivation. 

Ratigan is very obviously a very loud Bird secondary. He loves lists, he loves Rube-Goldberg devices. He’s based off Professor Moriarty, it's Snake Bird all the way down.

URSULA THE SEA WITCH (1989) - SNAKE / BIRD

So Ursula wants to take over, be the new monarch of the sea… which is usually a Glory Hound Lion motivation. But there's the implication the she's doing this to specifically screw over Triton... which would make her more of a Snake. Ursula also has a *very* hedonistic approach to life, something you often see in Snake primaries with small circles. It's just her and her “babies," the eels Flotsam and Jetsam. He eels also seem very emotionally important to her, as far as villain minions go. This could be another example of Snake primary loyalty.

I don't know, I just think a Lion primary Ursula would be angrier, more of a Scar. She’s doing her own thing, an makes use of an opportunity that falls into her lap. This is structurally a story about King Triton (who has the big emotional arc and the most character change) so it makes sense that she is specifically a Triton villain, and Ariel was just unlucky enough to get in the way.

I'm actually going to say Bird secondary for Ursula. I agree that she gives off Snake secondary *vibes,* and absolutely might model or perform it for fun. But the way she wins over Ariel is by spouting facts very fast and very confidently, then getting her to sign a bad contract. It’s a Corrupt Lawyer beat more than anything. Vanessa, Ursula's alternate form, is more an Actor Bird transformation (Wicked Queen style) and less a Snake secondary playing around (Madame Mim style.) Vanessa is Ursula's version of Ariel - she even speaks with Ariel's voice - and that's a Bird secondary approach. When Ursula‘s plans start falling apart, she doesn't pivot. She starts looking very Lion secondary - exactly like Bird secondary Ariel does when she’s overwhelmed.

Tl;dr 

Double Lion -  Queen of Hearts, Cruella De Vil

Lion Snake - Madame Mim

Snake Bird - Prince John, Professor Ratigan, Ursula

Snake Badger - Wicked Stepmother

Badger Snake - Captain Hook

Badger Bird - Evil Queen

Bird Lion - Maleficent

#disney #sortinghatchats #shc #queen of hearts #cruella de vil #madame mim #disney’s robin hood #prince john #professor ratigan #ursula the sea witch #wicked stepmother #lady tremaine #captain hook #evil queen #snow white evil queen #maleficent #wisteria sorts

[kittykatinabag]

The Saint's Magic Power is Omnipotent is pure hopeless romantic delusional fantasy to me and I wouldn't want it any other way.

#its horimiya meets fantasy isekai but all the characters are adults #yet somehow in 24 episodes there is no kissing just pure romantic crushes and barely veiled courting #then i come down off the high and realize that i probably will never find someone who will be that romantic with me #because thats just not how relationships work at least in my previous experiences #the most romantic thing someone has ever done for me is get me flowers and chocolates for valentines #except the chocolates werent my preferred variety and i only sort of like roses #if he had given me milk chocolate instead of dark and orchids or wisteria or magnolia i would have been more impressed #but even that's just kind of stereotypical valentines gift so its not giving 'i cant stop thinking about you' vibes #idk i just want someone to be as obsessed about me and i am with them #it seems to always be me liking the other person much more than they like me #late night ramblings

[gray-morality]

Wisteria

Wind brushing through cascading flowers; Fingers on skin. Eyes closed, Our lips meeting. Bliss.

#ffxiv #Fakhri Man'tik #wisteria #love #passion #devotion #bliss #sensuality #also my half-assed attempt at a poem of sort

[accursedrainbow]

Wisteria pointing at a large tick crawling on Neo: hey are u gonna eat that??

#my girl loves bugs for their aesthetic and also flavor and crunch #i like to think that sort of animal behavior is Frowned Upon in most societies by the time she's born but she was abandoned in a forest #at a young age and basically raised herself she do not CARE if others think she's weird she thinks THEY are weird for trying to conform #to human standards of 'polite society' she is not into it she will always be a bug eater tree climber hissing wild animal #*head in hands* I love my tree rat sm I think about her constantly she is so awesome and cool and epic #rat rambles #wisteria

[azurescaled-archived]

#anyhow i notice that izumi attracts bastards #unlike izumi #Wisteria wasn't a deity #because he didn't need or ask for tribute from humans #he was content to be left alone #that being said people still worshipped him even if he never answered any prayers #he's unique #also doesn't help that if he *were* a deity of some sort #he would've been over a domain of death #contrasting izumi's domain of life

[the-dragonlich]

Me doing rough sketches of my three main: How do I make Wisteria look more like someone who would stab you at the drop of a hat

#anyone can stab someone at the drop of the hat but Wisteria’s eyes are to kind to gentle #the original idea for these 3 were a sort of more viscous Saturday morning esque villains and they’re all still not all the great #and arguably worse in some ways than their original ideas #but I do still want a nice balance between friendly but a bastard #Warren and Knell got that down pretty well because it’s not that hard to strike that with a hare and a crow #but Wisteria looks a bit to soft #ramblings

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 38

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I've been awake since 2am.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

After breakfast, you get ready to go into town with Frigga and Hela upon their vaunted ladies’ trip. An air of uncertainty persists around what exactly that means. Flowers, shopping, and what else?

You try not to let the mystery overshadow the Odinsons’ hospitality. You’d hate to come across ungrateful after all they’d done. Odin and Frigga hadn’t asked for anything in return all while receiving you with an open hand. Just like with all things, you go along to get along.

The drive has you in a sort of trance as you watch the landscape pass. The lush greens and speckles of violet and pink across the fields, thickening to looming forest of coniferous pines and towering oaks. Finally, the wilds thin into even ground and open into a township with a painted wooden sign.

The buildings are old but well-kept. Not like the large city with its pitted brick and steaming sewers. Every street here is like those that surround Laufeyson’s own estate. Curated and pristine. Just like the Odinsons themselves.

You pull in at a large gated lot. The iron barrier is overgrown with flowers and as you enter, you gape around at the expanse of petals and stems. You’ve never been anywhere so spectacular.

You trail behind Frigga as she browses the selection. You shy away from Hela but she’s hardly concerned with you as she admires a bunch of dark roses. You peer around as an assistant approaches at Frigga’s signal.

“What do you think, dear?” Frigga calls to you, “we want white for the event. Lilies, baby’s breath, gardenia?”

You blink and give some thought, “what about daisies?”

She smiles, “daisies, so simple but pretty.” She turns to the assistant, “do you have many?”

“We should have a few boxes ready for delivery,” she answers.

“Wonderful, we will have some daisies. Oh, and we could have some wisteria hanging. Mm, and miss, white tulips? You have those too?”

The assistant scribbles on her pad, “we can do those as well.”

“Hydrangea,” Hela insists as she approaches, standing behind you, “for the posts.”

“Yes, certainly, hydrangea,” Frigga repeats with a sharp point to the assistant. “Oh and lastly, I spoke with Val about the moonflowers, tell me they’re ready.”

“Yes, Mrs. Odinson, we have those set aside already.”

“Good, good,” Frigga remarks, “well, we’ll look around a bit more and let you know if anything else is required.”

“Yes, Mrs. Odinson,” the assistant nods and prompts strolls away.

“You wouldn’t like a splash of red, mother? Maybe some black?” Hela muses, “this Walpurgisnacht will be blinding.”

“Oh, tosh,” Frigga dismisses, “we have a theme. Which reminds me, darling,” she turns to you, “do you have a white dress packed?”

“White?” You blink, “um, no, I didn’t…”

“Not to worry, it’s why we came to town,” she tweets.

“Oof, mother,” Hela cringes. 

“Well, I know you certainly don’t have suitable attire,” Frigga reproaches.

“Actually, I’ve a marvelous white jumpsuit selected for just the event,” Hela challenges, “I can listen, I just often choose not to.”

Frigga gives a pinch look before she returns her attention to you, “well then, our task will be easier. I think chiffon might be nice…”

“You know, mother, I do feel as if I’m being replaced,” Hela snickers. You send her a guilty look but her smile holds no malice. She winks and arches a brow. “And yet I do think this little creature will look delectable in white.”

“Mm, yes,” Frigga side-eyes her daughter, “you do have a way with words, don’t you?”

“Oh, pardon me, I should be more like my brothers, would you prefer Thor,” Hela mocks and reaches for your hand, taking it as she caresses it emphatically, “oh lady, you are beautiful, I should wonder if what you hide under your skirt is equally as stunning–”

“Hel,” Frigga exclaims, mortified as she snatches her grasp away from you.

“Ah, alright, Loki,” Hela clears her throat and stiffens her posture, adjusting a non-existent tie, “yes, you are rather adequate. Hm, very acceptable.”

“Don’t,” Frigga commands, “you didn’t have to come if you’re only going to make a joke of it.”

“Oh, mother, that’s simply what it is, a joke,” Hela bats her lashes, “loosen up. Is that not what this day is for? To enjoy ourselves?”

Frigga sighs and shakes her head as she turns away. Your mouth slants as you watch after her nervously. Hela clucks and flicks her fingers dismissively, “once she has a taste of wine, she’ll let go.”

✨

You stand in the fitting room, staring dreadfully at the two hangers. One chosen by Frigga, the other by Hela. They are both beautiful but you’re not certain either of them suit you. You feel the long chiffon as you mull over the choice.

“Well, darling, let us see,” Frigga calls through the curtain.

You wince and recoil. You pull down the longer of the two, the flowy chiffon that caught Frigga’s eye. The one-shoulder cut cinches to draped skirt which drowns you. You look at yourself in the mirror and frown. The fabric seems to drown you.

You turn with a swish and pull back the curtain, stepping through awkwardly as you tug the skirt out of the way of your feet. Hela makes a noise somewhere between a snort and a gasp. Frigga fawns and daintily touches her cheeks.

“Oh, gods, that is gorgeous, isn’t it?” She comes forward and pinches a fold in the skirt.

“She looks like she’s caught in a snowstorm,” Hela muses, “please, she won’t be able to do much in all that.”

“I suppose,” Frigga backs up and folds her arms, “but I like the style, perhaps we might find something similar with less length.”

“Try mine,” Hela demands.

You look between them, not daring to argue with either. They seem to do enough of that. You spin and sweep behind the curtain once more. You shed the chiffon layers and pull on the satin sheath. There isn’t much to it. Thin straps and not much length, a slit up your thigh. It’s more lingerie than a dress.

You peek out shyly before you make yourself come out. Frigga’s face flushes and her lips part. Hela smirks and tilts her head as she bites her lip.

“Oh, fabulous,” Hela remarks.

“She cannot wear that,” Frigga throws a hand up.

“Why not, she has nice legs.”

“That isn’t… appropriate.”

“Well, mother, she can’t dress like an old matron either.”

“It was a perfectly nice dress–”

“For 1912,” Hela shoots back.

You shrink before them and let their back and forth fade into the background. You glance over the rack of white garments and zone out. You just want this to be over. You’re tired of being pulled back and forth like a game of tug-of-war.

Your name draws you back and you focus on the women watching you. You wince and teeter on your feet, “sorry, I was distracted.”

“I was saying,” Hela intones, “we should let you choose.”

“Me?” You blanch.

“Well, it is your dress,” Frigga utters reluctantly.

“Oh, but I… don’t know much about… clothes.”

“Never too late to learn,” Hela insists, “go on, have your pick. Surprise us.”

You glance back at the rack and wiggle your fingers. You slowly approach as the two other women retreat, still muttering to each other. You push through the hangers; too heavy, too stiff, too sheer.

You think you like this one. A simple sheath lining with a mesh overlay, little crepe flowers sewn into the out later. The straps are slender but the bodice is straight cut. It’s wonderful and dreamy. You take the hanger and quickly scurry back behind the curtain.

You switch out the short dress for your pick. You look at your reflection and nearly stagger. You love it. It’s adorable. You go to the curtain and brace yourself. What if they don’t like it? You exhale and ready yourself for disappointment.

You step through and the women face you. Neither say a word as they look at you. They consider you, eyeing you head to toe. Oh no! It’s hideous, isn’t it? You have no taste.

“I love it,” Hela chirps, “what about you, mother? Isn’t it gorgeous on her?”

“I… it’s so… you,” Frigga squeals, “yes, it’s perfect. And the little flowers. Ugh, amazing.”

“Really?” You stand on your toes nervously.

“You must have it,” Hela insists, “next, shoes… the pairing must be perfect.”

“Shoes…” you murmur. Does it ever end?

✨

Your day doesn’t end after the boutique. The tumultuous night slumps in your shoulders and droops in your eyelids as the hours stretch on. Your next stop is a sleek white building with sparkling glass doors. As you enter, the sterile lobby has you minimizing yourself in fear of staining the pure white tile or breaking the crystal counter.

Frigga and Hela strut towards the woman who stands behind the glass table and greet her breezily. She welcomes them by name as you trail behind like a mouse. You don’t belong here. Not a place like this. You might be with them but you’re not one of them.

Once more, you sink into a daze, trying to distance yourself from the present. From those feelings of unbelonging. Those old wounds from the schoolyard when you stood by the fence and kicked rocks, not daring to provoke anyone with an errant gaze.

“Dear,” Frigga jars you as she gently touches your arm, “did you have ID?”

“ID?” You say dumbly, not processing her request at first.

“They serve alcohol so it’s required to check-in,” she explains.

“Oh, um, yeah,” you clumsily grab your purse and unzip the top. You dig out your ID card and hand it over. Frigga has a brief glance at it before handing it over. The twitch beneath her eye worries you; has it expired?

You wait as Hela taps her short nails on the counter top. Finally, the woman behind the counter approves you for entry. You still don’t really get what this place is. There’s no signs aside from the marquee in swoopy cursive; Hvergelmir.

Another woman appears and takes you through an angular doorway. You’re guided to a private room with robes on hooks, cushioned benches and small cubbies. You watch Hela and Frigga as they remove their heels and set them on the low rack. You do the same, doing everything they do at a delay.

They tuck their bags into the cubbies and undress without shame, keeping only their underwear on as they wrap themselves in the silken robes. You face the corner as you strip and pull on a robe yourself.

It isn’t until you move on to the next room that you realise what this place is. A spa. You’ve never been to one but it’s exactly like you’ve seen on television. You recline as a woman smears your face with a mask and places cucumbers over your eyes. It’s relaxing even if it feels a bit strange.

After laying there for what seems like forever, a woman comes in to offer stemmed glasses of sparkling wine. You remove the sliced veggies from your eyes and accept one in kind with the other women.

“I think I might get a wrap,” Hela declares, “I need the cleanse.”

“Mm, I think I might do the steam room,” Frigga drawls before she sips from her glass. You take a tiny sip, reminding yourself of your last indulgence and the disaster that followed. Hela downs half the glass in a single gulp.

“What about you?” Hela looks at you pointedly. “Would you like to join me for the seaweed wrap?”

“Um, what is that?” You ask.

“Oh, darling,” Frigga sits up and grabs a leather folio, “have a look. You can choose whatever you like.”

You accept the little booklet and open it up to the laminated inside. You read through each item and the description below. The steam room sounds uncomfortable, you’re not a fan of sweating, and the seaweed thing sounds slimy…

“Mud bath?” You read allowed.

“Good choice,” Hela praises, “I might join you after my wrap.”

“Oh, okay,” you close the book and put it on the small round table close to you.

Frigga picks up the small golden bell and rings it. The same woman appears and Frigga lists off the treatments for each of you. She’s led away first, then someone comes to fetch Hela, and finally, you’re taken away by another woman with a high ponytail.

The woman helps you cover your hair with a towel and hands you back your wine glass. She leads you into a room with long rectangular tubs filled with reddish brown muck. She points you to one at the end and you put your glass on the little ledge that juts out from the side.

She helps you remove your robe, “you can keep your underwear on if you like. We can provide a fresh pair after, but you may want to remove your bra.”

You nod and dip your head down to unhook your bra. She reaches to take it and you hesitantly hand it over. She hangs your robe from a hook on the wall and leaves you there. Alright, so you just get in?

You step over the high wall of the tub and lower yourself into the warm mud. It doesn’t feel too bad. You slide around slightly before you’re able to find your bearings and reclining against the slanted back. Is this relaxing? 

You close your eyes but not for long. You end up staring at the lines between the ceiling tiles. You stir the mud with your fingers. You feel childish, like you're making mud pies.

You stop as you hear voices. You peek over for just a moment as someone else enters. A tall woman with a swirl of black hair escaping the towel on her head strides in, her tall figure draped in one of the ivory robes. The attendant takes her to the tub across from yours.

You try not to watch as she opens her robe, revealing her sleek body shamelessly. She eases into the tub with a sigh and the attendant leaves. You keep your eyes up as tension fills the space.

“The mud is nice today,” she says, startling you.

You nod and look at her as she stretches her arms around the walls of the tub. Her chest is barely concealed by the muck.

“You don’t come here often. I’ve not seen you around.”

You shake your head, “first time.”

“Ah,” her blue eyes gleam, “special occasion?”

“Erm, not really, I… Walpurgisnacht,” you pronounce the word delicately.

“That’s not for a few days,” she intones.

“You know it?”

“Yes, of course, everyone around here does. And this year, with Frigga hosting, it will be a spectacle.”

“You know Frigga?” You wonder.

She laughs, “of course I do. Who doesn’t?” Her tone is dry and her expression haughty, “how do you know her?”

“Um, I… work for her son,” you utter flatly.

“Thor?”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you correct her.

“How amusing,” she smirks, “what’s your name?”

You answer, your chest binding up tightly. You feel like you shouldn’t be talking to her. Something about the way she grins.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she purrs, “I’m Sif. You might tell my ex-husband I send my regards.”

You swallow dryly and stare at her. Your heart is pounding and your ears ringing. Sif? In the flesh? She’s absolutely gorgeous. You can see why she haunts the Odinsons. She’s perfect. 

Now you know why you will never live up to Laufeyson’s expectations. Why he’s so hard to please. Compared to her, well, you can never compare to her. She is immaculate.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #au #maid au #thor #avengers #mcu #marvel

[barrenclan]

“Issue #22: A Favor for a Favor”

Here it finally is! You can sort of think of this issue as the mid-season finale, if the whole of PATFW was a one-season show. I have been waiting to do this one for a very long time, and I wanted to make sure it was exactly how I pictured it. There are a ton of reveals and plot progressions in this issue, so keep it all in mind as we move forward!

Also, with this issue, PATFW is officially halfway over. Can you believe that? It feels like just yesterday that I started this project. 

So much to talk about, but I won’t clog up this description. I’ll at least say that Ranger and Hacksaw are some of my absolute favorite characters from this story, and I love them dearly. For clarification’s sake, Ranger is a coyote and Hacksaw is a peregrine falcon. You can now view their tags for posts I’ve made about them in the past, along with Saturn.

Dustfeather was previously completely buried, as you can see in Issue 17, but winds combined with Saturn’s burrowing exposed her body to the open, where any remaining choice meat was picked off by crows (and Saturn). 

In the last panel, the flowers surrounding Deepdark are wisteria, oleander, and black lilies. All of them are poisonous to animals. 

Previous < > Next

#issue #issue 22 #patfw #pinepaw and the forgotten world #pinepaw #saturn #cootstorm #blacknose #mallowstar #meadowkit #honeykit #egretkit #bluebellkit #dustfeather #rainhaze #ranger #hacksaw #deepdark #prowl #spike #fang #webcomic #comic #barrenclan #warriors #warriors oc #warrior cats

[nobody3xe]

Tainted

Malleus D.☆

Before you read:gn!reader, reader is the mc, yandere malleus, overblot malleus, mentions of: blood/hemophobia, vomiting/emetophobia, death/Thanatophobia, overall slight-gore.

main navi.

Vocabulary:

diadem: a crown/tiara worn at the forehead

pedicle: the growth from which a horn sprouts

Mon cheri -> my dear/sweetheart(used as gender neutral)

Mon Amour -> my love(used as gender neutral)

Reference(s):

•The Oxalis or Oxalis corniculata flower is also called ‘sleeping beauty’

•The original fairytale ,‘Sleeping Beauty’ was written in France, during year 1528.

Words and characters: 857, 4723 respectively

Spoilers for chapter 7, part 36-37

Malleus watched as his unique magic, ‘fae of Maleficent’, spread throughout the campus. Everyone’s body fell on the ground, limp as if they were no longer alive. Well, everyone except you.

His maniacal laughter reflected off the walls that were covered in thorns from top to bottom, not long before black tainted his vision. After just a few seconds, standing there was no longer the prince of Briar Valley, but a monster covered with head to toe in blacks.

Blot splotches floated around him. Thorns, not unlike the ones created earlier, wrapped around his arms. A royal purple corset covered in wisteria thorns and belt adorned his waist, following a torn cape extending till the neck. A green fire rose from his right eye just like the others. Black marks that resembled a dragons were unfurled across his eyelids, one of them turning into a tear spilling from his left eye.

A simplistic and gothic diadem was placed on his forehead. Hair slicked back to reveal what seemed like the pedicle of his horns. The horns themselves were no longer pitch black, but were highlighted with green, the same shade that composed his flame. Yet the most noticeable and terrifying change was definitely in his tail. It no longer resembled a lizard or a dragon but a fork. It had three severely sharp ends, and was bigger than normal.

He closed his eyes as if he was relishing that moment. As if this situation was exactly what he dreamt about on daily, as if this was the freedom he was yearning for. Funny how he had never experienced freedom yet he somehow yearned for it, alas that’s a topic for another day.

As he opened his eyes, then immediately went towards your structure, frozen in fear. Your eyes displayed nothing but pure terror that increased as he took his time walking- well, floating up to you. You who were covered in thorns from head to toe. Their grip was powerful enough to make your strength seem like nothing but a mere, fragile Oxalis. They dug in your skin just enough for you to feel the pain but not enough to pierce through the skin. Only muffled screams were heard as he made his way.

The bile rose from your stomach, it felt as if it had reached your throat, begging for you to spill it all out. Your heartbeat was all over the place and your limbs were shaking terribly. The adrenaline flowing through your veins made everything more intense, for the better or worse.

Caught in your own thoughts you didn’t realize that he had walked up to you, till he had gently lifted your jaw so your eyes were focused on him and only him. He lifted his hand slightly as you closed your eyes expecting a hit of sorts. Much to your surprise, he placed his hand on your cheek, wiping your tears.

“My my, dear, you are trembling.” He said as he placed his idle hand on his chin as if he was pondering about something. On cue, the thorns around you disappeared with a flick of his wrist. Not expecting this, you threatened to fall face flat but luck was on your side today. Malleus caught your trembling, fragile form in his arms.

“Do not fret. This is nothing to be afraid of Mon Amour. If you surrender to slumber, thousands of years will fly by an instant.”

He gently lifted your chin so that you would be able to look up at him. And not long after, he slowly tilted your head.

Something about his actions at that moment felt so wrong, so scandalous, so corrupting.

“You will no longer remain pure, as you shall be tainted by I.”

He kissed you, his dark lipstick now stained your lips, the iron like taste of what you assumed to either be blot or his blood enveloped your senses. You did not want this, you should be panicking or-or trying to stop him or something! But your body just felt…numb. Numb throughout, no heat, no cold, no pain, no pleasure, no. Not even your blood flowing through your veins, or what was left of them. His grip on you was so hard, you could see crimson blood dripping down the hand he held your chin with. Yet, you didn’t feel it. The only thing you could feel or hear was your own heartbeat.

Until, the sound ever-so slowly and gradually stoped. You felt your eyes grow heavy simultaneously before you completely passed out. Malleus noticed this, opting to tenderly lay your head down on his chest. Now that you were asleep, he no longer had to worry about you prying away and running from him. Even though the chances of that happening were negligible, he still wanted to be a hundred percent sure.

“You will become the protagonists of your own story.” He said as he looked up at everyone in the room, before turning his gaze back to you. His fork-like tail then snaked up one of your legs as he whispered in your ear.

“Especially you, Mon cheri.”

© nObody3xe do not plagiarize, repost or translate without permission.

#twisted wonderland #twst #malleus #malleus draconia #yandere #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus #yandere twst #yan twst #yandere twisted wonderland #male yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus x reader #twisted wonderland malleus x reader #nObody3xe write’s -> #overblot malleus #malleus overblot

[forgeofthenine]

I was just thinking about requesting head canons about the bachelor's with a reader who speaks another language (and honestly, my personal headcanon is that elvish sound like gaeilge/Irish) and the Zevlor headcanon that was just posted convinced me to send it. So here it is. What do the boys think of a partner that speaks another, non common, language?

Hi Wisteria! I'm always happy to see another request from you :)

Personally I love hearing fantasy languages, Tolkien's elvish and it's portrayal in LOTR come to mind. That was definitely something on my mind while writing this, and even if I didn't specify I definitely wrote this with the idea of the reader speaking some form of elvish or celestial in mind. For anyone wondering, the Zevlor headcanon mentioned in the ask would be the 'accidental turn ons for the bachelors' <3

The bachelors with a partner that speaks another language

Dammon

So, I feel like all the tieflings have at least a basic understanding of infernal, Dammon included

He loves calling you by pet names and endearments in infernal

The day you do the same but in a non-common language is the day this man simply passes away from happiness

He completely paused the first time he hears it, before teasingly asking what else you're hiding from him

Dammon loves hearing you speaking another language casually, just like how he speaks bits and pieces of infernal

Over time he starts to pick up on translations of the things you say and will sometimes respond in infernal as a joke

Other people get very confused when they see you two speaking completely different languages to each other, especially if he explains neither of you actually know the other language

Dammon does it specifically to confuse people, sometimes he also says it's a special language for you two

He loves listening to you and could happily do it for hours

Zevlor

Not going to beat around the bush, Zevlor is extremely turned on every time he hears you speak another language

It just fuels something in him, he doesn't even really know the specifics, just that he finds it incredibly attractive

You can tell his full undivided attention is on you every time you're speaking something other than common

If you really want to tease him, lean in behind him and murmur something in his ear

His breath audibly hitches and his whole body does a system reboot right in front of you

Zevlor will absolutely encourage you to speak in another language around him, and picks up on translations quite easily

You'll even hear him saying the occasional word in the language too, the little smile he gives you afterwards is just too sweet

Over time he calms down a bit more, but hearing you never quite loses it's spark

It's always something Zevlor is going to be drawn to

Rolan

Rolan drops something the first time he hears you speaking a different language, it's probably a book that finds itself on the floor

I feel like he'd be pretty fluent in infernal, this man is incredibly smart and is always learning

He's shocked and intrigued when you speak a second language though

As much as he doesn't want to admit it at first, he'd love for you to teach him how to speak the language

In return he'd happily teach you infernal, and Rolans actually a very good teacher

In the end I can see him having some sort of schedule so you can both learn the new language

He insists on learning through exposure too, so common ends up becoming a rarely spoken language between you both

Cal and Lia have a ball of a time teasing you both, in return Rolan will talk to you only in a language they don't understand while around them

He really loves getting to hear you talk in another language, and hearing you teach it is even better

#bri answers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader

[wisteria-lodge]

SORTING DISNEY LADIES (1995-1998)

Part 1 - Disney Ladies 1937-1985

Part 2 - Disney Ladies 1988-1993

I’m going in chronological order, and doing both A Squad and B Squad, because I’m interested in tracking how the ideal “disney girl” has changed in the past 85 years (right now I’m only looking at the human-shaped heroines of Disney animated theatrical releases) A more detailed break-down of the system I’m using is right here, but the basics are these: 

PRIMARY (ie MOTIVE) 

BADGER ~ Loyal to the group.

SNAKE ~ Loyal to yourself and your Important People.

LION ~ Subconscious Idealist. Ideals are linked to feelings and instincts. 

BIRD ~ Conscious Idealist. Ideals are linked to built systems and external facts. 

SECONDARY (ie METHOD) 

BADGER ~ Connect with the group. Make allies, work steadily and well. Be whatever the situation calls for. If you find a locked door, knock.

SNAKE ~ Connect with the environment. Notice things. Tell people what they want to hear. If you find a locked door, get in through the window.

BIRD ~ Collect skills, tools, knowledge, personas, useful friends. If you find a locked door, track down the key or learn to pick the lock.

LION ~ Be honest, be direct, speak your truth. Either the obstacle is going down or you are. If you find a locked door, kick it in.

POCAHONTAS (1995)

(& John Smith)

Pocahontas is an incredibly loud Lion Primary. Marrying Kocoum is the good choice, the responsible choice, the right choice - she knows this - but she just can’t do it. It feels wrong. She “goes wherever the wind takes her,” accompanied by the swirling leaves that are a kind of physical manifestation of her primary, since they match up so perfectly with the compass. (Classic Lion primary metaphor - see also Jack Sparrow.) When Pocahontas doesn’t know what to do she dreams of the confusing “spinning arrow,” but when she does... that arrow points straight in one direction and she just goes. She “listens with her heart”  to the degree that it gives her superpowers.

It’s tempting to say she’s a Lion secondary too. She enjoys whitewater rafting and BASE jumping, which I guess are activities stereotypically associated with Lion secondaries. Also, the climax of the movie does involve her physically flinging herself across John Smith’s body. BUT her big song (“Colors of the Wind”) is just so, so, SO Bird secondary. John Smith isn’t getting it, and so Pocahontas’ response is - let me explain my worldview, show you, you clearly don’t have all the information. She’s a problem-solving Bird. Pocahontas’ first instinct when the English arrive is to investigate from the shadows, with two animal sidekicks that represent Curiosity and Caution. (Which is perfect, because is that not what a Bird secondary is? Observe, assess, plan.) Pocahontas is also convinced that there must be some perfect way of explaining her situation to the rest of her tribe that will make them get it. In her eyes, the problem is again that they don’t have all the information. This is almost a Bird secondary compulsion.

As for John Smith, well. His arc is about shifting his definition of “Person” to include everyone he categorized as “savages” early in the film. That’s very Badger primary character development, and John Smith is very Badger primary. He loves being part of a group, he loves his men, and the fact that he doesn’t really belong anywhere bothers him. The implication is that he keeps going to all these “New Worlds” trying to find one where he fits. It’s a cool bit of costume design that he’s the only one in Spanish armor - like maybe he did a similar trip with the Spanish conquistadors a few years ago. And it’s gutsy that his ‘I want’ song (“Mine”) is literally a duet with the villain. Like, sure John Smith and Governor Ratcliffe don’t like each other, but they start off with pretty similar politics.

I like that at the end John isn’t accepted into the Powhatan tribe or something. He finds personal peace by redefining his own community, and gaining a broader perspective on the world. HE is absolutely a Lion secondary though: really straightforward, cannot lie, and always solves problems by throwing himself physically at them. Pocahontas only does that the once, after her Bird secondary strategy - trying to reason people around to her point of view - didn’t work.

ESMERALDA (1996)

(& Quasimodo, Claude Frollo, Phoebus)

At first Esmeralda seems like she might also be a Lion primary. She’s the revolutionary, she stands up on platforms and yells things like “Justice!” Even through all the adaptational changes, the Victor Hugo soul of the story is still very much there, and he loves a Lion primary. But… that’s not really where Esmeralda is coming from. She cut Quasimodo’s bonds very specifically to try and change the vibe of the room - “Letting the crowd torture that poor boy? I thought if one person could stand up to him…” And that’s a Badger primary motive. Esmeralda has deep roots in her outsider community, and being separate from them (trapped in the cathedral) is very, very bad for her. 

But then she brings Notre Dame itself into her community. Esmeralda goes up to the statue of Mary, the cathedral's patron, and says, “Still I see your face and wonder / if you were once an outcast too.” Once she does that, the ‘outcast’ bellringer of Notre Dame and even the building itself start fighting for her. It’s important that Esmeralda’s ‘I want’ song has nothing up to do with her at all. “God Help the Outcasts” is about helping her community - the outcasts. We get lines like “I ask for nothing, I can get by / for I know so many less lucky than I” which are all about Badger primary need-basing. Esmeralda consistently goes to whoever needs her help the most, doesn’t matter if she knows them or not. And her way of helping Quasi is to give him a map of the city that brings him straight to her Community. 

It’s nice to pair this very understanding, inclusive Badger primary with basically a Jack Sparrow secondary. Esmeralda likes disguises. She likes improvising weapons. She improvises her escapes, and comes up with stuff as she goes along. She also has a lot of faces that are all equally her. She is the sexy pole dancer. She is also the grounded, spiritual earth mother, and when her primary requires it, she’s the revolutionary too.

If you put the weird tonal mismatch that is the gargoyles to one side, this film has a really elegant little structure. There are three men who are in love with Esmeralda: Quasimodo, Claude Frollo and Phoebus. And it’s subtly done, but Quasi and Frollo both dehumanize her - Frollo by only seeing her sexy side and deciding she’s a demon temptress, and Quasi by only seeing her more motherly side and deciding she’s an angel. I always thought it was interesting that “Heaven’s Light” and “Hellfire” - Quasi and Frollo’s songs about Esmeralda - are back to back, with similar titles, even the same track on the soundtrack. They’re almost a duet, and I think it’s a way of showing that there are two ways to make someone inhuman. (In a movie that is SO interested in the idea of what makes someone inhuman.) And then Phoebus just sees Esmeralda as… this cool chick, with a great sense of humor and some sweet moves, who he’d like to get to know better. Of course she goes with him. 

Frollo, Phoebus and Quasi are ALL Lion secondaries (no wonder they butt heads.) It’s harder to tell with Quasi, because his secondary is so ridiculously Burnt, and only wakes up once his Snake primary finds something to latch onto that isn’t Frollo… which takes him most of the movie. Phoebus has a very straightforward Paragon Lion primary that seems to match up with Esmeralda’s Badger, and Frollo, oh man. Frollo has the most twisted Bird primary imaginable. He has a belief system that is impossible to live up to, so - instead of maybe questioning that - he blames Esmeralda? Or he blames God? for making Esmeralda too tempting for him to resist? and so therefore it’s not his fault? He’s a Bird Primary who consistently fails at following his system, and deep down he knows it. That’s why he’s so scared of the actual Notre Dame cathedral, why it keeps hurting him, and why it ultimately kills him. He cannot look those statues in the face, he cannot look at the system he tells himself he follows better than anyone else.

(Inspector Javert of Les Mis is also a Bird Lion villain. Big Victor Hugo trope.)

MEGARA “MEG” (1997)

(& Hades)

Meg is the example I would use to illustrate a Burnt Snake primary. She sold her soul (gave up everything) for her boyfriend, he left her, and now she doesn’t think it’s safe to love like that again. “Look I learned my lesson, okay? I’ve sworn off man handling.” Meg won’t let herself trust anyone: “He comes in with this big handsome farm boy act, but I can see though that in a Peloponnesian minute.” It’s because she doesn’t trust herself: “If there’s a prize for rotten judgement / I guess I’ve already won that.” 

Her only connection in the world is Hades, this weird and kind of compelling combination of bitchy best friend and shady producer who’s trapped her in a bad five-record deal. They are both similar flavors of Snake secondary, which is how they they can be antagonistic… but still kinda get each other, and work well together. They both enjoy sitting in a kind of blunt Neutral, but get things done by being charmers - creatively telling the truth, and switching approaches quickly in order to to figure out what resonates best with the person they're talking to.

We see Meg use Hercules’ fan girls as a smokescreen to sneak into his villa, and then talk him into playing hooky and having a night on the town. After which, she falls into his arms with her line about “weak ankles” as a way to get him to get him talking about potential weaknesses. But of course, she catches feelings and her big song “I Won’t Say I’m In Love,” is a nice little portrait of a Snake primary unBurning. Meg goes from not trusting herself at all, to deciding that… maybe it could be different this time. 

And this is where Hades misreads Meg, which is ultimately his downfall. He assumes that Meg is a Lion primary like he is. Because Hades is (a bit of a narcissist) and a huge Glory Hound Lion. He hates that he got the shitty assignment, hates that things are “a little dark, a little gloomy, and as always, hey - full of dead people." He wants to be the top dog, he wants to be Zeus. So he offers Meg freedom. That's what a Lion primary like him would want more than anything, were he in her position. But Meg’s not a Lion. She’s a Snake. So we get exchanges like this:

HADES. Hear that? It’s the sound of your freedom, fluttering away. MEG. I don’t care. I won’t do anything to hurt him.

And Hades just does not see that coming. 

FA MULAN (1998) 

 (& Fa Zhou, Mushu, Li Shang, Shan Yu)

So my question is... why does Mulan run away and join the army? Get the obvious answer out of the way - it's not “to uphold the family honor."

FA ZHOU. It is an honor to protect my country and my family. MULAN.  So you’ll die for honor?

Fa Zhou is definitely a Badger primary, and Mulan… isn’t. She doesn’t get it. He’s not speaking her language. But she clearly loves her dad, and the next explanation we get is that she did it all to protect him. However, at her lowest and most vulnerable she says - “Maybe I didn’t go for my father. Maybe I went to prove that I could do things right.” That’s an interesting shift. Now the issue isn’t with why she acts, it’s with how she acts. Which means Mulan’s internal conflict isn't coming from her primary, it's coming from her secondary.

This is where we start getting into gender and gender performance. There is a lot of Badger secondary in this movie, and it’s all framed as female (Mulan's mom and grandmother are both Badger secondaries, for example.) There’s also a lot of Lion secondary, which is framed as male. (Fa Zhou, Li Shang, and Shan Yu are all Lions.) And Mulan… tries both options, and fails both times. She gets into a huge amount of trouble trying to be the quiet, caretaking bride at the matchmaker’s, and just as much trouble trying to be the brash, fight-starting Ping at the camp. 

Then we have Mushu, who is Mulan's Lion secondary coach… despite not being a Lion secondary himself. He wants to be - disgraced failure Mushu is introduced trying to breathe fire and shake awake the bigger, tougher Great Stone Dragon. He’s trying to seem like an intense Lion when he is happiest and most effective doing a more Badger secondary thing. He comforts Mulan, makes her breakfast, carefully forges letters, wins her allies and generally gets… maternal (“my little baby is all grown up and saving China.”) This is a smart movie, and in a very light, comedic way… it’s saying that Mulan is not the only one self-sabotaging because of gender presentation roles.

So Mulan tries to be a Badger, which doesn’t work. She tries to be a Lion, which doesn’t work. And eventually, of course, realizes that she was a clever, inventive Bird secondary all along. We are introduced to her while she's making little gadgets to do her chores, and when she taps into that she becomes powerful. She is able to figure out a way to use the handicap weights to climb the post and reach the arrow, and defeat Shan Yu’s army by starting an avalanche. She even finds time to plan during the heavily improvised final battle in the palace. Mulan coordinates a two-pronged attack, luring Shan Yu up onto the roof, where she knows Mushu is already in place with a rocket.

As for why she does things… Mulan has an intrinsic inner truth, and just wants to project that truth out into the world. She’s a Lion primary who wants to “be myself” be “true to [her] heart,” and not hide. “When will my reflection show who I am inside?” Lion primaries will get hit especially hard with that kind of identity angst. 

And to round out the sorting for this film (which really holds up) - Mushu is probably a Lion primary like Mulan, which is why he gets where she’s coming from. He starts off as a bit of an immature “stage mom” Glory Hound Lion, but gets better. Shang is definitely a Loyalist, probably a young Badger primary. (I think Mulan just likes Badger Lions, her dad is one too.) Shang is very group-orientated, wants to be “the leader of China’s finest troops - no, the greatest troops of all time!” He's also, to be honest, kind of Establishment. Shang has a much harder time getting his head around Girl!Ping then Mulan’s more Snakey buddies, and ultimately needs an authority figure to tell him to cut it out. And Shan Yu, the film’s comment on toxic masculinity, seems like an Exploded Lion primary. He gives his motivation in the first scene- “[the Emperor] invited me. By building his wall he challenged my strength.” Which means that - with the single exception of Hades... all the guys in this wave have been masculine-coded Lion secondaries, and the heroines aren't girly Badgers, but the cool "third option" - Birds or Snakes.

Tl;dr

Pocahontas ~ Lion / Bird (occasional Lion model) 

John Smith ~ Badger / Lion 

Esmeralda ~ Badger / Snake

Quasimodo ~ Snake / Burnt Lion

Phoebus ~ Paragon Lion / Lion 

Claude Frollo ~ Burnt Bird / Lion 

Megara ~ Burnt Snake / Snake

Hades ~ Immature Lion / Snake

Fa Mulan ~ Lion / Bird (unhealthy “girl coded” Badger performance) (unhealthy “boy coded” Lion performance)  

Fa Zhou ~ Badger / Lion

Mushu ~ Immature Lion that matures / Badger (unhealthy Lion performance)

Li Shang ~ Badger / Lion

Shan Yu ~ Exploded Lion / Lion

(art credit to Cursed Concepts for the beautiful pins I have used to illustrate this post.)

#sortinghatchats #shc #disney #wisteria sorts #disney princess analysis #disney princesses #pocahontas #pocahontas meta #john smith #hunchback of notre dame #esmeralda #phoebus #quasimodo #claude frollo #judge claude frollo #esmeralda meta #disneys hercules #megara #hades disney #mulan #mulan meta #mushu #fa mulan #fa zhou #li shang #shan yu

[nyimasu]

─── WISTERIA, LUST, BLACK DRAGON

🀦. BLOSSOMS OF INK, INDEX

SYNOPSIS — Getо̄ and Gojо̄ are business partners and opened a studio together in the middle of Tokyo. You are one of their most loyal clients, especially since Shoko is a friend in common. One day, you finally decide on getting a tattoo, and that's where the magic happens: under Suguru's more than capable hands.

The rest is history.

CONTENT WARNING! — tattoo artist!getо̄ au, afab!reader (female anatomy and long, curly hair + tattoos), you're smitten with him as he is with you, mutual pining, gojо̄ is his own warning -> nipple piercing, toji is wearing a maid dress due to a bet he lost, unprotected sex, oral (both receiving), multiple positions, cock piercing (getо̄), hair pulling, lots of pet names | WORD COUNT — 8.7k ( ao3 link )

ANYA'S CORNER—this series is my creature and I'm so proud of it that I want to post all three parts on tumblr again aw there's lots more for you to find out about this slice of universe I created from scratches, so stick around if you want to ehe Hope you like this and see you soon!

The needles penetrating your skin didn’t hurt at all.

They went back and forth on your body without being too invasive, even though you were getting a tattoo in one of the most sensible spots of the human body.

The lack of pain was all thanks to the delicate touch of the young man who was holding the little machine, his face half covered by a black mask.

Your best friend had already taken her leave the moment she realised her presence was unnecessary (much to your complaint): according to what she had whispered before waving bye, she really thought the artist was into you since the first moment you walked into the studio to discuss with him about the tattoo.

Now that you were all alone with him, you could totally understand Shoko's words. And they rang in the back of your head whenever you locked eyes with the long-haired boy, the intensity in its gaze as sharp as the edge of a knife. As if it wasn’t enough, you assumed the girl set up a sort of blind date with him, since you and the boy had her as a common friend.

You even found yourself gulping several times.

Oh heart of mine, be still you repeated in your head every time he looked at you.

«How’s going?» he asked while wiping the excess ink off the expanse of skin he was working on, «I noticed you tensed a bit when I got close to the back.»

«It’s going great! Oh, it's because my back has always been sensitive but don't worry. I thought I’d be in much more pain than I actually am, so thank you for everything.»

«No problem. Working on someone as stunning as you is never a bother, petal.»

You both froze at the same time. The pet name he’d just called you with should’ve made you uncomfortable, but it didn’t. Rather, you were sure your cheeks raised straightaway at that, and you cursed your shyness for showing your true colours so soon.

He has complimented you with ease, such a feeling that had never really belonged to you. And that was one of the reasons why you never had many relationships.

You’ve never been good at reading between the lines, either, but something in the way he said it suggested you to do so.

Maybe Geto Suguru wasn’t as subtle as Shoko declared him to be. That sleep-deprived fox really set you up.

«T-thanks, you’re too kind.»

«That’s not something I get to hear very often. I thank you for saying so» the low buzzing of the tattoo machine soothed your ears once again, «may I?»

Your eyes found him looking at your braid, asking for permission to move it aside. You nodded, shivering the moment his form came into frame and his gloved hand brushed against your abused skin. He gently pushed the braid away and you imagined his mischievous lips stretching into a smile behind the mask.

Damn, he really was handsome.

«There we go. If you wait a bit longer, your tattoo will be done and you can get up to stretch a bit.»

Since you were laying down on your right side, the tattoo artist had to lean over you, almost half resting his weight on you. The moment he took position again, you couldn't do anything else but take peaks at him now and then.

Yep, he still was horribly handsome and the fact he had prettier hair than yours aggravated your mood even more.

You deserved to have straight, long and healthy hair too. You got stuck with a long one, yes, but it was really curly and difficult to manage. Braids were one of the few methods to keep it at bay.

Suguru’s hair reflected the artificial light above him, strands of lush pitch-black silk akin to a panther's mantle possessively caressing his high cheekbones and then down, ending right in the middle of his broad back.

And his eyes… wow.

There was nothing to say about them but being careful not to lose every fragment of your psyche into their depth.

The sound of the tattoo machine prevailed over your thoughts and you finally raised your head to let it rest against your right arm. The professional bed you were laying on was very comfortable, so it was no big deal staying still while Geto's hands worked wonders on you.

The needles started to work on the rib cage some minutes later, and their sudden attack in such a soft spot had your muscles stiffening.

Nothing serious, but it took you off guard.

«I know it hurts like a bitch, but try to hang on tight, okay? You’ve been doing amazing so far. Actually, if I have to be honest with you, you’re one of the few clients I made tattoos for that never complained about the pain. You're a tough one.»

«I have a very high pain tolerance» you explained once your jaw unclenched, «and this is not the first tattoo I got in a sensible spot. I’m used to it.»

«Oh? Do you have others? Where?»

«You haven’t seen them yet? What a liar.»

Geto’s cheeks rose and you've never wanted to see his dimples as much as you did at that moment. Stupid mask.

Girl, what got into you today? Get a grip.

He was now staring right into your soul and you took advantage of the situation to get a better look at his half-hidden face. Despite the annoying obstacle, you could clearly see the contrast between the devilish and unbothered aura surrounding his form and the slightest hint of fatigue under his eyes. You thought it'd be so easy to stretch out a hand and caress that annoying nuance awa-

«I was too busy looking at your face, petal. I have a better look at a girl’s body after I've been on a few dates with her, but I can make an exception with you if you want.»

Now it was your turn to giggle and you couldn’t know it, but the way your nose scrunched and your eyes turned into a pair of half moons every time you laughed melted what was left of those thick ice barriers Suguru had erected around his heart, right after the ugly breakup he went through.

He also knew you had a habit of bringing a hand on your mouth to hide it but, given the circumstance you were currently in, he watched as you just inhaled to calm yourself.

The most beautiful creature his eyes ever had the privilege to lay on.

«I wouldn’t mind going on a date with you, you know.»

«You what-» the artist started but as soon as he put down the tattoo machine, your fingers chased after a strand of his hair.

It had been as natural as breathing.

Once they were wrapped around it, you tucked the strand behind his ear with such elegance that the boy was scared you might hear his heart skip a beat.

He acted all tough and badass around his friends/coworkers, but if pretty people touched him… well, he could fall apart right away.

The smile you put on after he got closer was self-explanatory.

You were the most clueless human being that ever walked on Earth. However, if you caught the signals at the right time, you turned into a completely different person.

Suguru was starting to see it with his own eyes.

You exuded charisma and eroticism with everything you did or said, especially when you stared at him through the fan of your lashes. Geto had always felt weak in the knees for gorgeous souls like you.

He loved it.

«Well, if you say so then I wouldn’t mind inviting you to my place for a drink tonight. Don’t look at me like that!» he shook his head after seeing the sceptical look on your face.

«I’m not that kind of person. Consent and respect are what I look for in everything, whether it is a nightstand or not. Think about it.»

And you did, even after you got up from the bed after six hours spent laying down in the tattoo studio right at the centre of Tokyo.

Suguru plopped on the chair close to the counter for a few minutes, cracking both his hands and neck to relieve some soreness accumulated during the day.

Without looking away from you, of course.

There was a hint of possessiveness in his eyes, maybe because the tattoo turned out to be even more beautiful than the draft you both created.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was because you were only wearing a lace bra and high-waisted pants.

Whatever the reason was, he couldn’t bring himself to shift attention to other stuff.

You, on the other hand, were completely oblivious to his thoughts. How could you be when the complex design of the permanent masterpiece in the mirror was staring back at you?

Wisteria was blooming right under your breast, covering half of the rib cage just to end right at the end of the right elbow, its branches taking a huge portion of your skin in a warming and inspirational hug.

«This is beautiful!» you screamed in excitement, eyes meeting him through the mirror.

«I’m sorry I took away a day of work from you. I’ll make sure I make up for it tonight.»

His eyebrows flew upward and you winked.

I won this round, my dear tattoo artist.

«I thought I’d already told you not to worry about it. But I'm impressed: you went through a very long session and you’re not even remotely fazed by it.

And yes, the tattoo turned out pretty good. I’m glad you love it.

Oh» he grabbed the ointment on the counter and walked back to you, «sit here. Yes, perfect. Let me apply some lotion all over the tattoo before you go. We don’t want it to get infected, do we?»

You propped yourself on an elbow to help Geto out the best you could until he was done.

«Thank you again.»

«Thank you to you, petal.» he finally took off his gloves and mask and threw them in the trash can.

And only then you internally sighed.

Finally free of anything that might hide his beauty, his face caressed by the fading sun rays, he was even more beautiful.

He looked like an ethereal being with the same elegance of a hunting panther.

The aforementioned was patiently waiting for you to dress again, eventually proceeding to escort you outside.

You two were so close that his hot breath fanned over your face. As you handed him the money, he bent forward and your fingers touched for a brief moment.

Again, he had no business being the most perfect man you ever seen. And those fingers were a dangerous temptation. Only to think he'd been onto you but at the same time didn’t almost drove you crazy.

You wanted to feel him everywhere.

The sudden urge to thrust a hand in his hair helped you snap out of it, your digits still mid-air after he took the money.

«I can come back here tonight for closing time. Is that okay for you?»

«Absolutely yes. And by the way, I already found one of your other tattoos.»

Before you could even reply, his plump lips were on your neck. Specifically, behind your ear.

Right where the tattoo of a rose had taken its place three years prior.

Shook by the abrupt intimacy, you tried to step away, but one of his arms encircled your waist.

«Don’t.»

You were a breath away from drooling when his forehead crashed onto yours, his body taut under the soft fabric of the sweater he was wearing. Much to your displeasure, his tattoos were all hidden by it today, but the hair was in full display. Yet fascinated by it, you raised a hand to rub another strand when other thoughts got in the way.

«May I?»

The boy complied, even though he didn’t know what you had in mind. Escaping his grip, you took off one of the hairbands on your wrist and used it to tie his hair into a man bun, the front strands framing his high cheekbones.

Geto enjoyed how delicate your touch was, but his eyes rolled in the back of the head when you accidentally pulled his hair to fix it.

«Uhm.»

You looked over to see what happened... only to find his eyes half lidded, lips parted to let out a muffled groan. The sound went straight between your legs, but you quickly got a grip on yourself and pressed a kiss on his jawline.

«See you tonight, then.»

Retrieving your bag from the sofa, you turned around to see the artist resting his head against the wall, the glossiness of his hair enticing beyond words.

He didn’t say anything back, just placed a thumb over your lower lip when you were within reach again. Then, making little circles on it, he licked his own.

«I can’t wait to find where your other tattoos are, you naughty thing.»

Your tongue playfully touched the tip of his thumb and he smirked.

You eventually gave in and admitted that there was so much sexual tension you could feel it in every gesture that elapsed between you two.

What was wrong with finding out where that hunger could lead you to?

Of course you did forget about something while on your way back to the tattoo studio. You always lived in your own world, but that day you’d really outdone yourself.

«Damn it.» you muttered to yourself half kicking the street half punching the air.

You had spent the last four hours getting ready for the date, looking for the best outfit -only to end up wearing the same jeans you had before and a cute crop top- and what food you wanted to bring at Suguru’s place because let’s be honest: you didn’t want to get drunk on an empty stomach. You tended to be extremely clingy if super tipsy, so food was needed.

But your forgetful ass left it right on the table.

Carefully wrapped and all.

The neon lights of the modest sign outside Geto’s studio were still on. The boy seemed still in the middle of a session with another client, so you decided to both wait for him and kill some time by running towards the nearest convenience store.

Priorities first.

Food.

Ten minutes later you were walking out of there, zaru soba and onigiris in a bag and heart slamming against your chest. You knew for sure it was the artist’s favourite food because every time you stayed over at his studio to work on the tattoo, especially during meal time, he ordered zaru soba for both of you.

It was time for you to pay him back for everything, starting from that.

Feeling as if someone was watching you, your eyes searched for the source of your wariness and found it a few metres away.

The dark-haired boy was waiting for you, a shoulder leaned against the studio’s outside wall. Hair still tied in the manbun, he had looked up from his phone again to stare at you and bam, your mind collapsed onto itself.

He got more and more beautiful with every encounter of yours, and it hadn't even been five hours since the last one.

To say it wasn’t fair would’ve been an understatement.

«Hello, petal. I saw you coming, but you were already heading to the convenience store before I could tell you I was ready, so I waited here. What did you buy?»

«Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were still working so I left for a while.

But look!» you leaned forward to let him see what you had in the bag.

«Since I know you skip your meals if you’re hella busy, I thought it’d be nice to have something to eat after work.

Onigiri?»

Suguru’s smile grew into a much bigger one and accepted the rice ball. If he hadn’t already been head over heels for you, he definitely would've started from then.

After leaning closer to your outstretched hand, he bit the ball of rice still in your hand and a little sigh of pleasure graced his lips. He hadn’t eaten in hours, so he was glad you brought something to munch on while heading to his place.

Before Geto could do anything else, however, a high-pitched scream coming from inside the studio had both you and him almost jump out of your skin.

What the heck was happening there?

«Did someone hit their foot or something?» worried and bit out of your mind — Suguru just ate half onigiri off your hand with lust possessively caressing his pupils —, you welcomed that heaven-sent distraction and crooked your head towards the open front door.

And a startled laugh erupted from your chest right away.

Geto Suguru’s best friend and business partner Gojo Satoru was currently quarrelling with a man dressed in a maid dress, and you realised it was the latter who yelled. And rightfully so, because Satoru had had the brilliant idea to slap the other man’s ass as soon as he had crouched down to pick up a trash bag.

Mind you, the skirt did nothing to cover his flesh.

«Leave me the fuck alone, Gojo.»

«Why would I? You lost the bet with me and Megumi, so suck it up. Punishment fits the crime.

You’ll have to clean the studio with this cute outfit on for the rest of the week, and I can do whatever I want with you.»

The shorter man went to hit Gojo with the plastic bag across the head, but stopped when your giggles filled the air. The poisonous words he was about to spit on him died out in his throat, and he turned alongside Gojo to make out who you were.

It was Satoru that clapped his hands together, the faintest hint of jest mixed with masculine pride tilting his lips upward as he looked up and down at you.

«Good evening, beautiful. Do you have an appointment? I’ll be ready in a sec.»

«I’m sorry, I don’t have one. I-» what were you going to say, anyway? That you accidentally eavesdropped their conversation while the tattoo artist behind you was about to suck your fingers?

Luckily to you, the man with shreds of light in his eyes and snowy hair preceded you, his elbows resting against the counter close to Geto’s workplace as his front faced yours.

«No need to worry about Toji over here. He looks as if he hates me, but he doesn't. I’m actually convinced he fancies me one tiny bit.

Oi, is that a new tattoo? Did you get it today?»

The other man briefly waved at you, then flipped off Gojo and walked away. He couldn’t disappear in the back of the place faster than he did, sighing profusely that “he was going to have a looong conversation with both Megumi and Gojo once he returned the dress to Tsumiki.”

«What? Ah», you laughed again once you followed his eyes on your right arm. «I did. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?»

«Stunning.» for a moment you thought he wasn’t talking about the tattoo at all, but like you’ve already said, you weren’t that quick at taking hints when it came to flirting. Not if you were too shy to reciprocate.

And right now, your mind was set on another equally gorgeous and talented man.

So you brushed off the compliment with a polite smile as you stared at his pectorals. More specifically, the erected buds brushing against the thin fabric of the shirt.

Hold on, it wasn’t just nipples. Oh my God.

This time it was Satoru who figured out what you were looking at and smirked, the action highlighting the tiny metal bars hiding under the garment.

«Hey, wanna come in? Even if you don’t have an appointment it’s fine. I might even give you a discount.» he straightened his back and slowly made his way towards you. At that your feet moved backward on their own accord. Out of instinct.

For he was akin to a hungry predator ready to jump on his prey the moment he felt your blood rushing more and more to your racing heart.

«I think an orbital would suit your ears the best. Or a tongue piercing, maybe?»

Suddenly the smell of cigarettes hit your nostrils, soon followed by the curtain of white smoke spreading behind you.

«Back off, Satoru. She’s with me.»

The piercing artist halted before he could cup your face and met Suguru’s gaze above your head. Pouting as his eyes trailed down your body one last time, he stepped back and raised his hands in defeat. Feigning faux guilt, of course.

«I know. I could recognise your style everywhere and you only had one client who requested a tattoo of a wisteria on the right arm.

Just wanted to make sure she was more into you than me, and she is. Usually people fall at my feet in less than three seconds when I give them the bedroom eyes, but she didn’t bulge one bit. Congratulations.»

«You’re such a slut.»

You couldn’t help but grin at that, watching the two men coming back at one another’s throat with delight filling your mind. They were two peas in a pod.

«Okay petal, time to go.» firm was Suguru’s grip on you when he wrapped his arm around your waist, and you let him with a little yelp.

If he wanted, he could’ve lifted you off the ground with a single hand.

«Have fun guys. Oh!»

With one hand strategically placed on Geto’s face, distancing him enough to prevent him from hearing what Gojo was about to whisper in your ear.

And when he did, you were glad Geto was holding you.

Ten minutes later you were taking a walk with the tattoo artist because, according to the boy, his flat wasn’t that far from the studio. So you followed his lead, eating and talking about a lot of topics… except the one Gojo asked you to keep for yourself until you and Suguru were home. You still couldn’t believe what that flirty man had confessed.

However, now you were discussing fashion while a tuna onigiri stuffed your cheeks.

«You wear harnesses everyday and you’re coming for my style? Are you serious? You’re wearing one even now, the hell.»

«Of course I am. And for the record, I’m not the one here who wears revealing clothes 24/7.»

«I beg your pardon?»

You were getting all worked up over the crop top ‒ which wasn’t gauzy, bloody hell ‒ when he suddenly stopped. You were both facing the door of what you supposed was the boy’s place.

After he opened the door, you expected him to walk in and welcome you in the flat. Wrong, because he first looked at you, then a half-whispered confession escaped his lips that you heard anyway.

«But I’ve never said I was mad about it. I have a thing for see-through clothes.»

«I swear to God, if you don’t stop-»

His words cut through your rambling. «What? What do you want to do to me?»

He didn't give you time to prepare yourself because practised, long fingers rested behind your neck as he pulled you in for a sudden yet hasty kiss that soon turned your knees into jelly.

You soon obliged in consent to let him deepen the kiss, his tongue chasing yours as his fingers wrapped around the back of your thighs. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you hadn’t even realised you were inside his apartment already until you saw a black couch behind his back.

Alas, his plans all went down the drain when a dark grey fluffy ball mewled against his leg to get his attention. You laughed in the kiss, seeing how desperate that cutie was acting to get some attention.

Suguru’s eyes locked with the Nebelung cat and groaned. «Nen, you little troublemaker. It’s half past midnight and you’re still up. Don’t you see we have a lady tonight? I have to take good care of her.»

Nen apparently wasn’t having any of it tonight because she mewled again at the owner and walked towards the bowl.

Oh, her Majesty was hungry.

«Go», you chuckled as you untangled your legs from his distressed form «I’m not going anywhere. And if I recall, you promised me a drink earlier.»

He rolled his eyes, scolding Nen for interrupting even after he had crouched down to feed the beautiful long-haired cat.

As the not-so-tough artist fetched two wine glasses and placed them onto the table to pour red wine, you came to stand next to him with a toothy smile and grabby hands.

You were an instant boost of serotonin that kicked into his veins, and he couldn’t really wrap his head around the idea you could be both so hot and cute at the same time.

His thoughts exactly reflected yours, although you were quite sure he didn’t know how much his beauty, aura and personality impacted others. He was so, so gorgeous inside and outside, yet he still struggled to let his truest self emerge.

«You were planning on getting me drunk without eating anything first, didn’t you? But I read through your schemes, Geto Suguru.» a shiver ran down his spine when you said his name.

«I’m not that naive.»

«Ouch. What made you think so bad of me, petal?»

You giggled, the braid swinging against your spine and fingers on the black harness around his thigh. He hadn’t noticed it yet, your clueless and sexy tattoo artist.

Mine you repeated that single word to yourself like a mantra, jolts of confidence radiating through your entire system.

God, he really was a sight to see.

«I’m messing with you.» you took a sip of the thick liquid and leaned against the kitchen counter for support, «wow, this tastes amazing.»

«I’m sure you taste even better.»

For the first time in a while, butterflies fluttered in your stomach. Tilting your head up, you put down the glass behind you and locked eyes with him.

«You believe so?»

«Uhm-uhm.» his fingers were once again on you, but this time they were after the braid. When he finally undid and brought it forward, curls landed on your chest. A soft chuckle left his throat, fingertips playing with your curls as his eyes devoured yours.

Breath stuck in your throat, you watched as he finished the drink in his other hand and oh my God, wetness had pooled in your panties already.

And he did the bare minimum to turn you on.

You were whipped for this man and Geto could tell it as well by the way you bit your lower lip while staring at his plump ones.

«Shoko really set us up in the best way possible.»

«Well, as they say: the devil works hard, but she really works harde-

Ah.» you whimpered, bracing yourself on the counter with Suguru’s digits now tracing the wisteria on your arm with delicate touches. He then proceeded to go down, until his fingers tugged at the hem of your top… and that’s when you clicked your tongue.

«You’ve already seen me half-naked plenty of times. It’s about time I see you taking off your clothes first.»

With a snort he broke away, but stayed close enough for you to feel his thighs twitch against yours.

«Deal, but I haven’t seen all of your tattoos yet.»

«You will soon enough.» was your response before taking in how he impatiently got rid of the black sweater. It landed on the floor, close enough to land where Nen’s kennel was. However, the little girl was nowhere to be seen. You went to ask where she was when Geto motioned you to look behind your back.

And you saw her sleeping soundly on the couch.

«The queen is sleeping there. We might as well go to my bedroom, mmh?»

You nodded and for a moment you almost forgot about your partner’s semi-nudity. Or Gojo’s words.

Yeah, almost.

Because the sight of the monochromatic dragon adorning the entire left side of his body seared into your brain. You’ve always seen part of it before, but now it was displayed on his flawless skin for you to explore with your eyes, your fingers.

Your lips.

He walked past the counter and his bare back held other tattoos, such as the lotus flower behind the neck, or the complex design of a sleeve on his left arm. All while Satoru���s words boomed in your brain like thunder bolts just crossed the sky.

Oh man, you weren’t going to make it out alive tonight.

Feeling your eyes consuming him, Geto’s tongue licked yet again his lower lip, but you tore your eyes away from his bare chest out of sheer despair and left in a hurry. He caught up in no time, taking your hand and guiding you to the right room.

«I love that look on your face. You see my tattoos and get all flustered. It shows I got under your skin just as much as you got under mine.»

He didn’t want to let you catch a breath or see how nice or tidy the bedroom was, considering how eager he was. His prominent erection against your back and the way he subtly bucked his hips up to yours to edge you spoke volumes about what he wanted at the moment.

You, falling apart under him.

Somehow, you managed to stay on your own feet in spite of his fingers yanking your jeans past the hip bones and then down, right where you were already taking care of the shoes. It didn’t take long for him to help you discard them and, while you kicked the piece of fabric and the boots out of the way, your index and thumb unleashed his hair.

Silk strands grazing both your faces, you gave yourself no time to dwell on it: still with your back on him, you shoved one of your hands among his locks to pull at the roots and grinded on him.

Eye for an eye, angel.

He moaned in your ear, something that has never happened with any of the male partners you had before. They thought it was too “girly”.

Bullshit.

Boys who groaned in their lovers’ ears were fucking hot.

«Fuck. I’ve never said you could call the shots, though.»

«I-» he cut you off again, tilting your head up to let your lips meet again. This time the kiss was as rough as the man fondling your breast still embraced by the crop top. As if you shared one mind, Suguru grabbed it and almost tore both open.

Action that earned him another pull at his hair.

«Careful» he breathed in your mouth, «or I won’t be gentle.»

«I’ve never asked you to.»

“You’re his petal, are you? Then listen to me: there's more to this than meets the eye when Suguru is involved, ‘kay? Buuuut, you’re in for a very big surprise with him. You see…”

Before he could stop you, your knees hit the carpet with a thud. After spinning so that you were now facing the crotch of his black cargo pants, he shook his head.

«Is this your idea of ‘making up’, petal?»

«Complaining already? I thought all boys loved good head.» staring back at him, a pout already gracing your bruised lips, Geto sat at the edge of the bed. Then he watched as you crawled on the carpet on all fours, drinking in the view of your half-naked body.

«I'm not like any other man you've encountered.»

No, he really wasn't.

As you shrugged, he finally caught a glimpse of your other tattoos: leaving the rose aside, the outline of a black snake on your thigh captured his attention right away. It was beautiful, its design and realisation something only a skilled tattoo artist could pull off without ruining the final outcome. A woman had worked and executed the tattoo, there was no doubt about it. Generally speaking, women were more detail-centred than men were, and that was the case with the tattoo.

He wasn’t the type to judge girls for what they decided to get on their skin. How could he, when it was literally his job to please them in that way?

Many uncultured, hypocrite people -namely men hidden behind their fragile ego and toxic masculinity- would’ve considered your tattoos too “aggressive” or “the best way to turn off a dude”.

Someone had had the chance to put their hands on you before he did. Strangely to say or even think, jealousy swallowed him whole in the blink of an eye.

The boy was so engrossed in his task that he hadn’t felt your hands free him from the confines of his pants until your startled gasp reached him.

Gojo wasn’t lying.

Your fingers first brushed against his bare, tensed thighs and the long-haired tattoo artist sucked in another moan. Then you stared at his cock with such intensity Geto feared you had a change of heart. Still panting, he cupped your face with a hand and in doing so, his eyes wandered downward.

And saw where the head of the snake rested.

«Satoru told you, right? Of course he did» he didn’t sound angry or disappointed, just resigned, «he never misses the chance to say he’s seen my cock fir-»

«Ssh.» you stopped your partner’s reasoning with a kiss right on his happy trail, descending until you locked eyes with him and smirked.

And Gojo's words ricocheted in your mind.

“-he was the first person who trusted me enough to put his hands on. But you'll see for yourself how fitting and nice a dick piercing looks on him.”

What a pretty, pretty boy.

«He told me. But let me get you onto something real quick.» your index came across the tattoo of what you believed was a customised carnation. It was standing proud on his rib cage, some space apart from the huge tail of the dragon on the arm.

If he was taking his sweet time admiring your tattoos, nothing prevented you from doing the same.

«I don’t care. I like pretty jewellery on attractive men and you, angel, are exactly that.

And I fuck them really good.»

He was trying his best not to drag you onto the bed and show you how good he was going to fuck you after what you just said, but he preferred to let his fingers wander, reaching down to caress the head of the snake marked on your hip.

Its forked tongue ideally licked the hip bone, and it was the exact same thing you were doing on his inner thigh.

Suguru was far from being intimidated. He’d been the first one among his friends to fully embrace who he really was, starting from his physical appearance and preferences.

He’d come to terms with both his flaws and qualities a long time ago.

What mattered to him the most, after all those years spent trying to be someone the society wanted him to be, was authenticity. And you were giving him plenty of it tonight.

Just being there with him, physically and mentally naked, was enough for the artist to make him go.

«Lick it, petal.»

Your tongue was now roaming over the metallic bud whilst a ragged breath from his part caressed the back of your head. His muscles spasmed under the slightest touch, signalling you he was at his limit already.

Nonetheless, the moment you actually took him into your mouth, moaning because of the salty precum coating your mouth and hand covering the base of his cock, he couldn’t do anything else but sternly whip at your hair.

And a loud whimper left your lips.

«So I’m not the only one here with a thing for hair pulling, uh?» his cocky smile was the last thing you saw before he beckoned you closer to him.

You arched your back a bit so that your elbows rested on both thighs, pushing them aside to give you more space.

Expert fingers were yet again yanking at the roots when your lips embraced more of his girth and you almost gagged. It was no easy task, since the man was so aroused and girthy and- God, he sounded so breathless and whiny as he thrusted into your mouth.

«Just like that. Take more of me into that pretty mouth of yours» faux innocence dripped from every single syllable, «I can’t even imagine what being inside you feels like. Yet.»

That last sentence would’ve elicited a profuse string of whimpers, but you were too concentrated on making him moan again. So you simply hummed and slid your mouth further down on his cock, causing the boy to grip at the sheets and then fall on his elbows.

You patiently licked and kissed every inch of skin you could reach, stealing glances at him from time to time. Then eagerness got the best of you.

You took all of him in your mouth again in one, smooth move.

«A-ah.» Suguru’s voice cracked seeing your nails digging into his inner thighs, but what almost made him go insane was when you flattened your tongue against the prominent vein of his cock, dragging it along its entire length until you wrapped around his frenulum. And you rubbed your tongue on it, the cold and hard texture of the piercing sinking into the tender flesh of your wet muscle as Geto moaned again.

«Fuck.»

He was going to thank Satoru someday, of course.

However, he had no intention to come in your mouth when he hadn’t tasted you yet.

Before you could finish what you started, the long-haired boy tugged at your hair hard enough to make you sigh. Tumbling off of him, slick glistening on your lips, you watched as he plopped down on his back. He still was painfully hard, but Geto’s mind was drifting towards other directions.

«Come here», he motioned you to straddle him and when you did, his pads on your bottom lip gathered the mixed fluids on it. «We’ll continue this another time. Now, move forward.» «Did I hurt you?» «Not at all.»

Confused, you did as he said, and as soon as you felt him push you upward for your head to hit the headboard, a sudden yet pleasurable feeling there shook you to the core. You hadn’t realised it ‘till now, but you still had your panties on.

Well, what was left of it.

Saying that you were so wet that the fabric almost completely disappeared would’ve been a huge euphemism.

Suguru rose to his feet and, without you noticing, he stepped back and brought a hand to his mouth to hide his satisfied smile.

You were there, in his bed. Curls covered half of your back, including the section he so accurately marked for hours.

Before today, he'd never thought you’d accept going on a date with him in the first place, let alone ending up at his place.

In his bed.

But the moment you linked eyes with him almost two months before in his studio, Geto just knew he had to be with you.

One way or another.

Moans airily passing through your lips, you clenched around nothing when his digits brushed against your drenched sex. He was playing with you, just like a lover would’ve done on a passionate night with their significant other.

«G-Geto.»

His movements came to a halt altogether, and you mentally slapped yourself for speaking. You were really great at ruining the atmosphere.

«Yes, petal?»

«Did I do something wrong? I mean, I’m pretty sure I messed up something since I’m a bit rusty, so-»

The tattoo artist cut short what he was sure would’ve been a very long, unnecessary apology by placing his lips on your earshell. You leaned closer to have a better view of his body towering over you, but nothing could prepare you for what happened next.

Almost simultaneously, his hand pushed down your panties and whispered:

«Nothing of the sort. You’re too good at giving head, I almost came the second I felt your tongue dragging along my piercing» shivers of both embarrassment and pride harpooned you as he continued. «But I’m too impatient for that. All I want right now is to eat you out from behind like the starved man I am.

I need you on my tongue.»

That being said, he left hungry kisses on his way back to where you needed him the most.

Making sure you could reach the headboard anytime, you waited for your partner to finally get his way with you. And he did shortly after, kissing and then lapping up the wetness gathered between your thighs with his tongue.

A tongue that soon breached past your entrance in no time.

You mewled, lurching forward to get some kind of break from that intimate kiss.

Not on his watch, though.

One of his arms gripped your waist and pushed backward, right where he demanded you to be. It only took him a moment to convince you to spread your legs wider on the bed, so that he could better lick up into you.

«Just like I thought: you taste amazing.» he stated under his breath.

The implicit compliment had your cheeks burning, pretty lame in such a situation.

If he had been really close to cum when you touched him, you were literally shreds of seconds away from losing your mind.

Not only was he sucking on your clit like his life depended on it, but he used two digits to part your folds and then, just then, dug them so deep goosebumps spread all over your arched spine.

He was hitting each sweet spot of yours with disarming carelessness, further proven by the moment he hooked fingers into you: that way, it was impossible to snap your legs close.

Not that you wanted to push your luck.

«Please» you fell onto your elbows and hid your face in the pillow, «I-I can’t take it.»

Words fell on deaf ears because he wasn’t done with you. Nose bumping against your sensitive bundle of nerves, he scissored his fingers apart.

And all of a sudden, neither his fingers nor mouth were close to you.

The desperate cry for the abrupt lack of touch building up within you was promptly interrupted by Geto’s touch on your back. He felt you were close, so he decided to stop and eventually keep his promise to rail you.

«You can. That’s why you’re here.» kisses on your spinal cord. «Tonight.» maddening fingers on your breast. «With me.»

For God’s sake, girl, you better grow a pair.

Talk back.

There was so much you wished to tell him. Alas, your mind was so clouded by pleasure that you just bucked into his touch for more, completely unaware of the fact Suguru was fascinated by the way you appeared.

Sweat grazing both of you, foreheads sticky with it, he nibbled on the skin near the jaw to get your attention. You looked back at the black-haired man, expecting him to lift you up or shift position.

Nothing. Was he waiting for you to say something?

«Did the cat get your tongue?»

Somehow your voice came back alongside a fair share of bratness. «Nah, it’s still here. See?» you flicked it out to prove it. «Want me to say anything in particular, angel?»

The tattoo artist cackled in your ear. Pet names could work both ways, apparently.

«You tell me.» «What about a new necklace? Can you give it to me?»

For the first time in a while, Geto Suguru furrowed his eyebrows in utter confusion.

How the fuck was he supposed to buy a necklace right before going down on you?

The dark-haired boy’s eyes met yours, eyes blown dark with lust and a never ending hunger that only a few had had the gut to face.

Before he could understand what was going on, you lifted yourself up to let your soon-to-be abused hole caress his tip a few times, eliciting soft moans from the two of you.

The coldness of the jewellery had you freezing at first, but then its gradual warmth enhanced the crazy libido agitating itself within you.

Breathing each other in, you moved down until his shaft broke past your entrance. And realisation hit him as he was halfway through your pussy, pants falling past your lips. Without altering the pace set by you, the artist wrapped his fingers around your neck and moaned yet again in your ear.

«A ‘necklace’ it is. I got myself a kinky girl, didn’t I?

I’m flattered.»

You sighed in response. The feeling of his pulse strumming away at your insides was too overwhelming, almost addicting. You couldn’t blurt out any sort of coherent answer.

He took the lead soon after your body went in override against his, bottoming out and ramming himself back inside in a matter of seconds. He slammed down his mouth on your own to suffocate your shared moans when the piercing plonged at the apex of your walls.

«I’ll only wear it when you’re around.»

«As you should» his teeth latched into your throat, «you’re doing so well, petal.

It almost feels like you were made to take my cock only.»

Fingers you loved having on you pressed the zone around your windpipe, and that caused you to arch off while Suguru’s thrusts gained strength.

Pleasure occluded your senses just as the boy tugged back at your head to steal a kiss, his eyes almost rolling in the back of his head when your digits found harbour in his hair.

«It feels s-so good, S-Su-», you unladyously groaned «Sugu’.»

The sound of skin slapping against skin faded to the background of your mind, Geto’s fingers adding more pressure on your throat’s sides. Nonetheless, you felt him twitching inside you.

Was he into pet names that much?

«Say it again.» no amusement this time, just pure excitement filling his raspy voice. You went to speak again when breath got knocked out of your lungs.

He had flipped you over so that now you were facing a very excited Geto, his hand still on your neck and dick buried deep in you.

Okay, he definitely was.

You shrouded your eyes as he laid you down on the bed, but they were again on him when his thumb pinched the skin right where the tip of his cock was driving through into your core and up to the cervix. It almost hurt how full you felt at that moment.

«Don’t stop, Sugu’.» you pleaded. He shook his head, his other hand on your hip.

Your own enclosed his face to bring it closer to yours, initiating a kiss that convinced the man to continue what he was doing.

Alluring whimpers reached your ears, just what you needed to give in to the sensation of him filling you up to the brim.

Both you and him were so close to your releases. He especially was, his movements sloppy and hips stuttering with every thrust you desperately took in stride.

«Look at me.»

You hadn’t even noticed your eyes had wandered off from Suguru's’s face until he pointed it out. He was now pistoning into you slower, but he still was as perceptive and caring as he’d been at the start.

«Yes, keep your eyes on me. God, you’re so fucking gorgeous» he pecked your nose as his voice lowered. «Can I come inside you?»

You went to compliment him back when he hit another spot of yours, causing you to scream in your hand and nod at his question. «Oh, my God. R-right there.»

After that he resumed hitting that spot until you tensed under him, your back arched off the mattress to meet his heavy chest.

You pushed one another over the edge into a kaleidoscope of fragmented lights, riding through your orgasms until the aftershocks rolled over you both.

Geto kissed you for a very long time for so long after you were done, lazily rocking his hips against yours to fuck both your releases back into your dripping hole. Actually, you weren’t even sure how much time had passed since he took you in his arms to get to the bathroom and back on the bed.

A core memory of yours, however, was him delicately wiping the sweat off your body, kissing your forehead before taking a quick shower to come back to you.

He really had fucked you stupid.

«A penny for your thoughts.»

His hand covered yours under the clean sheets you two had put on. The smell of sandal lulled you as your body went limp against his, indulging in his touch for a bit before replying.

«Shouldn’t it be ‘a tattoo for your thoughts’? I find it more fitting.»

«Just because you slept with a tattoo artist doesn’t imply you get free tattoos from now on, you little vixen.»

He narrowed his eyes and the view of him getting mad over something you made up on the spot had you laughing against his chest.

He was jealous, and for now that was more than enough to make you feel desired.

You hadn’t felt that way for so long.

«Kinky girl.» «Shut up.» He traced the form of your other tattoo in the inner part of the left arm. «Make me.»

And you shut him up for the rest of the night, exploring every inch of his skin until brushes of light orange and pastel yellow washed away the purple and deep blue nuances of the night.

«You’re lucky tomorr- I mean today, it’s my free day. Otherwise I didn’t know how to bring you there.»

Knowing where he was coming from, but unable to stop it, you sighed. You should’ve been prepared for the inevitable.

«Where?»

«To buy you a necklace, petal.» he leaned closer to kiss your pout away

«This lovely neck of yours needs a choker that does its job when I’m not around.»

«You’ll never let me go away with this, will you?»

Strands of silk brushed against your face as Suguru caressed your tattoo.

«Never. But I’ve marked you in other ways, don’t you think? Many ways, actually. By the way, you have some lovely tattoos.

Would you like to talk about them some day?»

«Absolutely. Give me some hours to recharge my batteries and I’ll be yours. Oh, and that harness you wore yesterday? I want two of them.»

«Fine. But if you’d like to wear it for lunch, for instance, you better ingrain in your brain that’ll be the only thing you'll be wearing for the rest of the day.»

Geto left a kiss at the corner of your lips as you processed what he just explicitly proposed.

And you surprised yourself even more when you got up and your hand clamped on the bone of contention five minutes after. God only knew how you managed to detect it among all those clothes scattered all over the floor.

«What if I wear it now? Would that intrigue you?»

«I’m very much intrigued by you already, my petal» Suguru watched you from across the room and tilted his head to the side, «but I might be damned if I try to stop you from doing such a thing.»

My petal you kept repeating those two words in your head, savouring them on your tongue.

Nope, never getting tired of how it sounded.

Once you were done with the leathery accessory, you caressed the material with a finger and walked towards your partner.

His gaze pierced through the window of your soul even after your legs had settled on the outside of his thighs. You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding in as his lips closed around your hard nipple, gush of lust dripping down your legs all over again.

That time, though, he wasn’t the least interested in taking charge.

«Suddenly I’m not sleepy anymore.» he affirmed, amused yet turned on by the sight of you wearing nothing but one of his harnesses.

Henceforth, he’d let you wear it anytime you wanted if that made you happy.

«Good.» your whispers on his neck gave him goosebumps. «’Cause I want to ride your dick ‘till we both have enough. Told you I fuck attractive men real good.»

The statement stirred delight within the tattoo artist, his long hair untamed when his lips clashed against yours.

Amusement wasn’t the only thing that sprang out after that, though.

«Then do it, petal. I’m waiting.»

© nyimasu — do not copy, translate, repost and modify my works.

#geto suguru #geto x reader #geto x you #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #voice of cassandra

[sspiderliliess]

diamond .

⟶ astarion x nervous, soft gn!tav — romance

i hyperfixated on bg3 for a while... i should get back to it. this feels like a bit of a word vomit and im still learning to express right but gosh i love emotional astarion stuff. (astarion and tav have a moment while they tend to his wounds | tav is gender-neutral but takes ideas from a female oc) ❤️‍🩹

⟶ rating — fluff?? suggestive at the end | tw blood, references to astarion's past

A tender flame danced. Outside, beyond the tent’s flimsy walls, rain poured for miles. The thriving forest floors squelched with a sea of puddles, the skies veiled with gray. But the pale crimson of the vampire’s tent was blooming with orange as the light within a lantern flickered across the walls and his belongings. 

Trinkets left and right beckoned my wonder, chiseled figures and crackled books that showed their age placed atop the shelves and the indigo rug. In the dark, the gold gleamed and teased my vision. Against the petrichor and iron from his bleeding gashes, the faintest aroma of wisteria tickled my nose.

Ah, yes! The nighttime florals just nearby. I remember being so delighted that our group’s camping spot was placed so conveniently close to those lovely plants. Purple was a soothing color, and those wisterias could comfort me almost as well as any lavender-based remedy could. 

It reminded me of Astarion, sometimes. My gaze wandered to the deep cuts across his leg, caked with drying blood and shining against the lantern’s light. The sight had been with me since it happened early in the day; a bundle of determined trolls could certainly leave their mark on someone—particularly three right across his calf and thigh. But sitting here, breathing in the smell of his blood that strengthened with every dab of the washrag, my stomach began to stir. 

Either that, or his more notable nature came back to my senses. Had I really forgotten how regal he was after all of this? A magistrate, he said. Different circles, he said… I love you, he said. I’d spent a good time getting to know him and his quick-witted remarks. His irritable nature reared its head often, but something beneath the rough had always twinkled if I squinted just right. He didn’t have to take these hits for me. I knew my heart felt truly for him, but I didn’t know he’d be the type to do that so quickly.

“Darling, I don’t mean to be rude, but—ack—it’s just that this blood is finding its way all over my bedding. I could tend to this myself, you know?” 

I turned my attention back to Astarion, who had propped himself up and was leaning my way with a hand reached for the stained rag. The gash on his thigh was oozing with blood, a thick trail pooling onto his blanket.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” I gasped and crawled forward to continue the cleansing. 

He furrowed his brows, then raised them, and a smile etched onto his lips. “Now, for a vampire to get lost in thought at the sight of blood, I could understand… but what’s making you so bothered?”

“I’m,” I hummed. “I’m unsure.”

I tilted my head and continued to absentmindedly dab at the cuts. He laughed under his breath.

That familiar Astarion in his playful quips and egotistical humor. Those with a demeanor such as that rarely gained my attention for too long; I was always frightened by what judgments they might make, how out of place I felt. In the beginning when our group happened upon him, it’d bothered me quite a bit and I was sure he caught onto that, thus, I did what any mature person would have done when met with some sort of problem.

I ignored it.

The sly fox had taken note of this reaction. Maybe that was what got him to be nicer to me so quickly, less… prickly, especially in the times where I let him feed. But as I’d grown closer to him in our travels and had more meaningful conversations, I found him to be a book I might like to read, and the teasing came back on its own. I wasn’t bothered then. I might’ve enjoyed it. I still find myself thinking of that evening back near the grove, where he nearly choked at the teasing he threw my way when he saw the small and clumsily crafted animal in my hand. I told him how my mother had made those kinds of things with me, back in Baldur’s Gate when I was just a child and felt lonely, and his laughter stopped.

He seemed hurt by that. Regretful, almost. I'd like to think that turned out to be a nice day, though.

I was pulled from my gnawing thoughts once again as a slender finger slipped under my chin. Astarion looked less playful now, eyes glazed with what looked to be concern. He sat there in silence for a moment, staring at me until I felt my skin heat with blood and my heart tremble, and then he sighed. “Sometimes, I don’t know how to go about talking. It’s easy to flirt, to say things you don’t mean. But I would like to know what you’re thinking. Truthfully.”

He continued to hold my chin up with that single finger, his eyes almost pleading to listen and talk. It was the Astarion less familiar to most, and like a timid rabbit spoken to with the softest voice, I found myself being drawn closer right then and there.

“You told me a while back that you were a magistrate, a long time ago,” I began, awaiting his response.

He swallowed slowly and shuffled to make room for me on the bed. “I was, yes. I don’t remember much more than that. That life is so distant now, a pained memory of what was and what could have been, I suppose.”

He didn’t move aside from a mournful wince that I was sure had little to do with the physical state he was in. He laughed bitterly, “It’s funny to think about. I remember that simple fact, but nothing about me.”

It almost shocked me, the way he seemed to care so little about his old role. To be of such importance in Baldur’s Gate, to have such power over just about anyone before you… and yet, have it taken away in an instant. It threatened to sprout an ache in my chest—the thought of such a family and stability gone in the blink of an eye, power replaced with powerlessness. In the quiet and my dwelling, I understood him just a bit more. I could only wonder what happened to make the paths fall as they did. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Thank you for helping me today. We might not know who you were back then, or what happened before, or what you looked like, or what you knew… But I know you now. And I’m grateful.”

I’d always been so cautious with him, so much so I could hardly form the words properly. I pushed myself to keep my eyes on him, though, and I watched as he looked to the ground with a smile. Those crimson eyes appeared much glossier.

In that moment, I did what any confident, self-assured individual would do. My heart pounded against my chest the minute I leaned forward to gently wrap my arms around him. He paused briefly and I heard his breath hitch, but he returned the gesture.

“I’m grateful to know you, too,” he sighed into my ear.

His breath and curls tickled my neck, where old bites were planted. I’d forgotten they were there until his nose brushed against it and a dull pain bloomed in their place. He stayed like that for a while. “I know that I’m in no place to have a passionate night,” he said a bit awkwardly. “But I would like to spend what time with you that I can, if you’d like..?”

It took me a second to understand just what he meant, and I couldn’t help but pull away with tensed brows and a muffled giggle. “I don’t know if passion is the best idea, seeing as though you’re still bleeding as is.”

I pointed to the fresh puddle of blood on the blanket, where his leg had pressed into the furs. He scowled and pursed his lips, but his smile soon resurfaced. “Well, perhaps that another night, darling.”

He leaned back to lay down again and I grabbed the rag from the bowl of water, wringing it out as the dark reds faded to pinks again. It was then that I’d notice what sat opposite of me while I crouched on the ground. Tucked away from most prying eyes was a spindly little nick-nack on his shelf, with leaves and vines coiled together to make a deer-like toy that you’d think only a child could love. It was placed within a makeshift forest scene, crafted impressively from grass and sticks. It’d been a while since I’d seen it.

I didn’t think I would again.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #gn!tav #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3

[slayfics]

Hello again :3 I hope you gave calmed down from earlier if you know what I mean AHAHA😩 Anyway, this came to mind when I was drinking my choccy milk, but remember that one-shot where Mui gets jealous when the reader is around another Hashira? And how the Hashira that took care of the reader was Iguro? What if you make a one-shot on what actually happened while the reader was on the mission? That would be so cool considering how popular that other one got lol🤭 Take your time and take care if yourself :D

Obanai tends to your injuries.

This is sort of a part two for the Muichiro Jealousy fic. I’ll link it here~

Muichiro gets jealous when another Hashira looks after you.

The demon in front of you took a heavy slice out of your arm. Jumping back to get some space you prepared to use a breathing technique and go in for the final strike. Just as you took a breath, what appeared to be a giant snake crashed through, separating the demon's head from its body.

You didn't need to look twice to know it was Obanai the Serpent Hashira that attacked.

"Hi Iguro! I had that under control you know," You said teasingly.

"Hm- is that why you got injured?" He retorted.

You crossed your arms and let out an overdramatic puff of air at the Hashria's comeback.

"You better let me look at that," Obanai recommended.

"No need, it's just a scratch," You said, brushing off your injury. Obanai was not swayed in the slightest by your words. He pulled your arm from you and pushed up your sleeve to inspect your cut.

"It doesn't look that serious-" he concluded.

"See! I told you," you said childishly.

"I wasn't finished," he hissed out. "It's not serious, but you should let me wrap it so it doesn't get infected."

"Fine-" You said stubbornly, causing Obanai to let out a sigh.

"I can tell your Tokito's Tsuguko," He said, pulling out some wraps and carefully placing them around your injury.

"What does that mean?" You asked defensively.

"Your lack of tact," He chuckled.

"Mhm sure- pretend you don't like it," you said playfully as he finished tying off the wraps snuggly around your arm.

Obanai ignored your remark, putting away his supplies. "I'm headed to a Wisteria House, I have a long journey to go from there after some rest. It's best you come too before you make the journey back to Tokito's," he recommended after noticing how exhausted you were from your previous battle.

"Well who am I to argue with a Hashria's suggestion," you said as you inspected the wrap on your arm. "Thank you Iguro."

Obanai nodded in acknowledgment. "Always make sure to tie it snug enough to support the slowing of bleeding but not enough to cut off circulation, got it?"

"Understood," you said, playfully giving him a salute. Obanai rolled his eyes at you pretending to hate your quirkiness. Secretly, he admired your ability to remain playful given the harsh life of a demon slayer. Something about it made him feel as if he was living an atypical life, if only for a moment.

"Come on it's this way," He motioned for you to follow him.

It didn't take long for you both to arrive at the mansion. Obanai would never admit it but you did a decent job at keeping up with him. He was noticing your improvements already from the training Muichiro was giving you.

"Good to see you Mr. Iguro, oh and you brought a friend!" The head of the Wisteria House welcomed you both.

"Yes I have another corps member with me tonight," He explained.

"Well do come in, your usual room is ready, but I'll have to bring in some more accommodations," they explained, bowing their head and then leaving.

"You usually come here?" You asked Obanai.

"Yes, this house is in my designated area to patrol so I come through often."

It wasn't long before the head of the house showed you both to the room kept designated for passing through demon slayers. The room had two tatami beds on opposite ends of the room.

"I hope this will do for tonight, please let us know if you need anything," the head of the house said before bowing their head once more and leaving.

Obanai made his way to one of the beds and sat down. You made your way to the other and upon sitting down felt your eyes immediately begin to get heavy.

"I guess I didn't realize how tired I was," You said lying down on the bed yawning.

"Mhm- you're welcome," Obanai spoke sarcastically.

"Ah look at you being playful all of the sudden," You giggled.

"How is your arm?" He asked, ignoring your remark.

"I don't even feel it, you did a great job," You responded.

Obanai laid down upon deciding he didn't need to tend to your injury any further. Kaburamaru slithered off of his neck and seemed to inspect the room.

"How is Tokito?" He asked you while staring up at the ceiling.

You were only slightly taken aback by Obanai's question. Many lower ranks made him out to be some strict scary Hashira, but in every encounter you had with him he was caring and overprotective. Given that might be because you were higher up than most being a Tsuguko.

"He is great!" You said, too excited to talk about Muichiro. It had only been a few days but you missed him dearly already.

"And being his Tsuguko? How is that?" Obanai questioned further.

"Um-" You paused, unsure of how truthful to be with Obanai. Kaburamaru slithered his way over to you and peeked his head at you as if he was curious as well. You reached out your fingers and the snake gave them a gentle lick.

"You can tell me you know," Obanai encouraged you.

"Well, it was hard at first... I even thought he regretted taking me in for a time. It's so much different now though! Our relationship has really changed and he even smiles from time to time now," you giggled.

"I see, it seems you two have grown rather close," Obanai concluded. You blushed, unsure if you gave too much away about the nature of your relationship with Muichiro.

"How are you Iguro?" you asked. Obanai stayed silent for some time. Kaburamaru even turned to look at him.

"I'm fine." Was all the Hashira eventually said.

"Wow... that was super convincing," You joked. Obanai did not respond to your playfulness. Kaburamaru turned to you as if encouraging you to keep pressing the Hashira. "Well, I hope you're allowing yourself to be happy. You deserve it, you work so hard, Iguro."

Obanai didn't say anything yet again but turned his head to look at you as if to analyze any sarcasm in your tone. Instead, all he saw was genuine concern and well-wishes for him in your gaze.

"You don't need to waste those sentiments on me," Obanai retorted.

You scoffed, "Yeah yeah whatever. Just promise me to go easy on yourself and take breaks. If there's anything you enjoy at all make sure to take time to do it. You owe that to yourself. At the very least, do it because it makes you a more rested Hashria to fight even harder. You work so hard to protect people, don't act like you don't deserve to be happy." You said.

Obanai felt his eyes getting heavy during your lecture, half dosed he digested your words. The hands of his past holding him down seemed to be weaker today, as instead, he held on to your well-wishes and praises.

You turned to look over at the Hashria after some time had passed to see he had fallen asleep. You watched as he lightly breathed in his sleep and felt a giggle escape your lips.

As threatening as Obanai was awake, he looked just like any young man when asleep.

Morning seemed to come too quickly and you were shocked by the sight of Kaburamaru curled up on your pillow next to you.

Obanai was just awakening himself, he scanned the room for Kaburamaru and also seemed to be shocked to see him next to you. However, he made no comment about it.

"Ready?" He asked. You nodded sleepily and followed him out of the house.

"Well this is where we split ways, have a safe journey back to Tokito," He said.

"Thank you, and you stay safe too!" You said smiling at the Hashira.

Obanai nodded," If you and Tokito ever need anything don't be afraid to send me a crow," He stated, about to head out but you surprised the Hashria by wrapping your arms around him.

Obanai stayed limp, not responding to your sudden affection.

"People say you're so intimidating, but you're actually a big softie, you know that?" You said giggling into the Hashira's chest.

Obanai reluctantly placed his arms around you for only a split second. You let the Hashira go amused by his uncomfortableness.

He didn't say another word but nodded then vanished.

Thank you for requesting this! It was fun to come up with what happened in the mission~ I hope you enjoyed it!… and yes I’ve calmed down hehe

Tags~

@sakurasunkiss @hashiroses @snowmist-hashira

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[izvmimi]

cw: reader and tanjiro are engaged. tanjiro gets roped into an unfamiliar marriage custom. fluff. fem!reader.

When Tanjiro said he was willing to do anything for you, this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. 

The cloth Genya decided to tie around his nose is a little too tight for his liking, and it doesn’t help that in addition to that, his nostrils are stopped up with more additional scraps of cotton than he’d like. The intention is to block his sense of smell which he understands is practically cheating, but it's disorienting feeling like he can’t breathe through anything but his mouth, and the tissue is shoved up so far he can practically feel it tickling his brain.

But he can endure it. For you. 

Tanjiro sucks in lungfuls of air through his mouth, then slowly breathes out before deciding to reset his thoughts with a smile. Genya looks directly in his face, then smirks, while Zenitsu, despite his blonde eyebrows furrowed in confusion, takes the time to adjust Tanjiro’s hair tousled slightly out of place by Genya’s ‘aggressive’ helping, then shakes his head.

“This is a weird ritual,” he finally admits.

Inosuke, who’s found a place on to lay comfortably and lazily on the tatami despite all the other young men in some sort of reasonable sitting position, laughs loudly. 

“That’s what I said!” he yells, forgetting all about an indoor voice. He shoots up like a board, then points directly at Tanjiro, who has risen by now, trying to shake off his sudden nerves. “She already agreed to marry you, so what’s the point of all this, Gonpachiro!!!! Just take her and run before she changes her mind!”

Tanjiro takes another breath, forgetting his voice is nasal now, then huffs.

“She said it’d make her feel more at home, so I might as well.”

Genya rolls his eyes, but knows he’d do the same. Giyuu and Sanemi, older than the rest of the men in the room and as such, less naturally rowdy, exchange a look. 

“So what’s the punishment if you can’t pick her out in a line-up?” Giyuu asks. “The engagement is over?”

Tanjiro pales quickly at the thought, then shakes his head.

“According to the custom, I just have to pay a fine to her parents.”

Zenitsu shakes his head while Inosuke bursts out laughing. “Like hell I would-” Inosuke starts, but Zenitsu slaps his hand over his mouth. 

“She doesn’t have parents here,” Giyuu reminds him, the look in his cool blue eyes less inquisitive than it is expositional. Tanjiro nods.

“Lame if there aren’t any stakes,” Genya points out, picking lint off of his jacket. “Other than looking like a dumbass, I guess.”

Sanemi gives him a glance, then grins before looking back at Tanjiro.

“How about I beat you to death if you mess up?”

His eyes gleam wildly at the opportunity while Tanjiro purses his lips to the side, ignoring Genya who at the same time offer to help his older brother.

“Are you going to let go of any opportunity to injure me?”

Sanemi runs his hands through his white hair, still smirking to himself as he immediately replies, “absolutely not.”

Tanjiro sighs, but his attention is turned when his younger sister finds her way to the entrance where the young men sit and wait prior to the ceremony. Nezuko is radiant as usual, her raven hair pulled back into a neat bun and her dark pink eyes practically luminescent. Tanjiro can already feel Zenitsu’s awed stare at her, but these days he’s quieter about how much he desires her out of a mature fondness now that he too is marriageable age. Nezuko smiles as she looks upon the men in the room, and more so as she appraises how nice her brother looks. 

The haori he wears today is nothing like his simple checkered one, dark green and laced with swirls of gold, complimentary to the burgundy tones of his hair, and despite his face being wrapped up in a makeshift mask to prevent him from sniffing out his bride, he remains handsome as usual. She adjusts the haori himo, slipping a couple of wisteria flowers within the string to accent the knot.

It’s not his wedding day yet, but he will still look wonderful. 

“Are you all ready?” Nezuko asks. She smiles to herself as Tanjiro nods quickly and is the first to follow her out in the courtyard, the rest of the young men filing out behind her. Nezuko stands in pace with her brother, and squeezes his hand gently as they make their way to the decorated clearing where the ceremony will take place.

“You won’t mess up. You’ll know Neechan immediately,” she reassures him. 

He’d tell Nezuko that it’s too early for her to call you that, but in some ways, she probably knew that you and her would become family even before he did. 

Instead, Tanjiro smiles warmly at her, letting his fingers and hers exchange places to squeeze hers instead. You and Nezuko’s hands are different, naturally, but the warmth is similar because your hearts are similarly kind by nature. It’s comforting; despite from being thousands of miles away, separated for greater than a century, you remind him of home. 

—

Your heart races, shrouded in the light weight of a woven silk sheet. 

You’re not the only woman in this kneeling position; in fact, you are just one of six women arranged in a six-point star-shape in a small clearing beneath the bloom of plum blossom petals. Mitsuri, Kanao, your two best friends, and even Shinobu were willing to play along with you, dressed up in the same kimono, their heads and shoulders covered, and hands obscured in long sleeves set before themselves as they wait for the men to arrive. Everyone is quiet and perfectly still, although you know Mitsuri is trying her hardest to hold in her giggles, and Shinobu might get up and leave to go do something much more useful with her time any minute, and you wonder what the outcome will be of all this. 

You’re not exactly sure why you roped him into this or why Tanjiro even agreed to your nonsense, but there’s something you need to prove. Something about fate, something about an attraction that transcends an enamored gaze or a heightened sense of smell or touch. Something that proves to you that the draw between you, the metaphorical thread that has linked you across time and space is not something you’ve imagined.

Or perhaps you just find it romantic that he’d know you anywhere. 

But what if he doesn’t?

Hinatsuru did your makeup differently from the rest - an extra layer of gold dusted on your eyes, a deeper red on your lips. Wisteria is woven into your hair unlike the rest, and on your hands a red string is woven between your two pinky fingers. If he chooses you, you’ll untie one end and link it to his. An additional promise to love him forever. 

You’ve already said yes, you’ve already said yes.

Makio continues to play the koto as you take deep breaths and you can hear Tengen and Rengoku laughing loudly with the rest of the growing crowd, Suma telling her giggling toddler to stay still, soft, awkward footsteps following giggles. Gyomei is probably praying and if Obanai could figure out which one of the shrouded women is you, he’d probably have you strung up on the highest mountain peak for dragging his wife into this.

Now you can hear the men approaching, Inosuke and Zenitsu’s bickering the loudest, but you can sense that Tanjiro is near even if he’s quiet and moves stealthily. Perhaps it’s your love for him, perhaps it’s his presence that you can’t ignore, or perhaps it’s the fact that he shines so bright you can feel the warmth of his soul any time he’s near.

You remain perfectly still as Makio’s koto playing comes to a halt. Nezuko sings and passes between the six of you, a chill running through your spine as she taps each of your shoulders. You remain silent.

You can’t see Tanjiro set his eyes immediately on you, because if you did, your heart would be tranquil. Instead you keep yourself from shaking, the blood pumping through your veins quickly, your ears warming.

Even if he can’t pick you out in disguise, he still chose you. He wants you. You will spend the rest of your lives together, no matter what. 

“Thank you for sharing your custom, ___.”

Gyomei offers a short speech to explain what will be happening in the gathering, although the guests do know, enough so that even Urokodaki, who acts as a surrogate parent to the surviving Kamados is invited, and will be watching Tanjiro make his decision.

You think of the embarrassment if he ended up picking Kanao, despite the fact that it means nothing in the grand scheme of things, then think of the sheer pandemonium if Tanjiro were to unveil Mitsuri and almost break your cover.

Focus. 

“Don’t embarrass yourself, Tanjiro. Sniff her out! Oh right,  you can’t!”

Inosuke’s heckles get a laugh from the crowd for once.

“Choose fucking wisely,” you hear Sanemi say, followed by the crack of his knuckles. The menacing tone to his voice also threatens to floor you in laughter, and you wonder if your friend will hold back her demand for him to be nice or blow her own cover.

“Enough harrassment,” Tanjiro finally defends himself. You can’t hear him move, but you somehow, can see someone, probably him moving in the faint shadows of your shroud.

Don’t be wrong, you tell yourself, then you quickly remind yourself, he wouldn’t be.

You’re meant to be. 

“Hey.”

You hold your breath as Tanjiro settles on his knees before you, his hands closing around the edges of your shroud, and flipping the cloth up - quickly, confidently, almost defiantly. 

Eye to eye, you watch him smile as he cups your face, rough hands so gentle, so loving on your warming cheeks. The koto slows to a stop again.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers, love practically dripping off his lips.

“You found me so quickly,” you whisper back, as your eyes mist. The onlookers watch as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Of course I did, I’d never lose sight of you even for a moment.”

And just like that, Hinatsuru’s hard work on your face is laid to waste; the koto plays again, heartily, your makeshift clones toss their veils and the crowd erupts in happy cheers.

#tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #kamado tanjiro x reader #daydreams: kny #tanjimimi #mimi's notes

[sodamors]

hantengu clones pet au headcanons

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. read at your own risk. this is bad.

background

> in the present, humans are no longer the prey of demons. the further development of high-concentration of wisteria poisons, as well as the integration of tranquilliser bullets, has gained humans the upper hand.

> wisteria weakens the demons, disallowing their use of their blood demon art, if the poison is concentrated enough.

> muzan has gone dormant, and the demons he’s made are left to their own devices.

> most demons often surrender themselves to be captured, and sometimes domesticated.

clones

> the main body was hunted down, and then cut, so the clones formed. However, they were overwhelmed before they could form Zohakuten.

> they no longer look *exactly* the same, since they’ve been treated differently.

> They had been separated upon capture, then shipped to all sorts of places. Here’s what happened to them.

tw.

once again, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. read at your own risk. this is real bad.

graphic depictions of violence, torture, starvation, nsfw, mental and physical abuse, experimentation, absolutely inhumane acts, no comfort whatsoever

sekido • graphic depictions of violence.

> for his aggressiveness, Sekido was brought to an underground fighting ring, where rich people place bets on their favourite demons.

> he’s lost many rounds, resulting in beatings and whips, from angered betters who lost money from trusting his agression. They would pay the guards to starve him as punishment, and he would hunger for weeks on end.

> sometimes, before a fight, the betters will starve him again, but not for too long. This is so that he would become more aggressive for food, and that he’ll try to eat his opponent.

> Sekido’s body still has muscle, albeit little fat. his skin is covered in countless scars; bite marks, burns, whipping, stabs, etc. All of them are half-healed, his malnutrition disallowing his recovery.

> he no longer has his kimono, since all “clothing” are taken away from the demons. It is imposed that they deserve no covering, since their only purpose is to fight.

> because of his aggression, he is forced to wear a muzzle off-arena. It’s tight and bites into his skin, causing a terrible rash around his cheeks and neck.

> Sekido’s left leg is broken, the knee shattered and the ankle twisted at an grotesque angle. Since he’s not one of the top fighters, he is given no medical attention, and is left to feel a constant ache.

> he rarely fights anymore, and is left in his cell to remain in agony.

> but he’s more of a ‘safety net’ for betters, since he cannot die. The main body remains unharmed, so Sekido has no choice but to endure and live through all that happens to him.

~ Sekido greatly regrets speaking harshly to his counterparts, because in the end, he cared about them. He missed them all; Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi. he just wants to see them again.

~ he hates himself for being so weak, wishing he found a way to heal faster. But it is never possible with an empty stomach.

~ Sekido hates sleeping, since it’s a form of weakness and vulnerability. But he’s become so weak and starved that he has no choice, and when he does sleep, all he sees are his brothers.

~ He often sleep talks their names, and is prodded and sometimes beaten by guards to make him stay silent.

karaku • nsfw.

> Karaku was originally brought to another underground fighting ring, but one of the betters found him cute, and bought him.

> but since then, he’s been majorly neglected by that better, who was an impulsive buyer and only played with him for a day.

> he was resold to one of the buyer’s friends, who placed him in an exotic sex house. People go there to fuck with animals and stuff. demons were of the same level of animals, so Karaku was a ‘perfect fit’.

> he’s often tied down in compromising positions, allowing for patrons to use him however they want. Sometimes they inject him with aphrodisiacs, so his body would react better to their actions.

> they feed him considerably well, making sure that he stays good-looking. The food is often raw pork mixed with blood. Karaku eats it all up because he’a often tired after long, excruciating hours of twisted people using his body for fun.

> he often has a muzzle, since his sharp teeth are a hazard to patrons. The muzzle can be swapped out for all sorts of gags and whatnot. His nails are clipped and often he wears gloves to prevent patrons from getting scratched by him. He has a shock collar that activates either when he disobeys an order, or when a patron uses it to fulfil their twisted desires.

> he feels a constant, dull pain in his abdomen, because unbeknownst to the house owners, his insides had gotten ruptured by one overly-excited patron. Karaku needs human flesh to heal better, but since he’s just given pork, the healing process isn’t going well.

> whenever he’s used, he would whimper and hiss because of the pain, but patrons just assume it’s because of the stimulation, and continue ramming directly into the spot that hurts him so much.

~ he constantly wishes for everything to end, for someone to find the main body and just kill it.

~ he hates that he feels this way, since he knows he’s supposed to be the manifestation of pleasure, and that he should be feeling good, right?

~ Karaku has given up almost completely, often laying motionless when left alone, showing no signs of trying to escape.

~ his body is maintained by the owners and not him, and they punish him (shock collar) whenever he doesn’t eat.

~ Karaku often thinks about how life was before all of this agony, and wonders where his counterparts are now. He wants so badly to get back to them, and for all of this to end.

~ at night, he would sometimes cry because he misses them so much. But he keeps his cries quiet because he doesn’t want to be punished for making noise.

aizetsu • experimentation.

> unlike the rest, Aizetsu wasn’t sold anywhere (underground fighting, sex shop, etc). the original captors kept him, but sold the rest to fund their activities.

> his captors are in a scientific organisation, and he is one of their test subjects. His register number is 412G and he is kept in their more reinforced rooms.

> they have the main hantengu body, and understand that as long as it is unharmed, Aizetsu should regenerate.

> they experiment on him often, since his special case allows him not to die.

> they develop concentrated wisteria poison and inject it into him to witness the effects, and how long it takes in theory for a demon to fight it.

> whenever this happens, aizetsu cries and tries to huddle in the corner of the lab, because all the wisteria does is burn.

> his insides light on fire and his intestines feel as if they’re rupturing all at once. He screams, twisting and contorting himself, trying to find salvation from the pain but to no avail.

> the burning can last for days on end, as they inject higher and higher concentrations of wisteria. Aizetsu wails and shivers as the scientists show no mercy when handling him, using machinery to hold him in place when necessary.

> they don’t use anaesthesia because they ‘need to see the true effects’.

> Aizetsu is only fed water, and other nutrients are injected into him every morning, afternoon and evening. He also has a exercise routine, but he barely follows instructions, and remains shivering in the corner.

> aizetsu is extremely shifty, sobbing whenever someone tries to get close.

> sometimes, they use Aizetsu for psychological experimentation-

> leaving him starved for days on end, then seeing if he would eat, even if it means getting electrocuted when approaching the food.

> depriving him of breathing for several minutes, until he was barely conscious, and then ringing a bell. They will then see if ringing the bell independently will cause him to go dizzy.

> etc.

> Aizetsu often bites his nails from anxiety, so much that his fingers sometimes bleed.

> scientists ensure there are no sharp objects nearby, otherwise Aizetsu would try to cut himself.

~ Aizetsu never stops crying.

~ he horribly misses his counterparts, no matter ‘how annoying’ they were in the past. Day by day, he wishes he never scrutinised them when they were around. They were the only family he knew, and now they’re gone.

~ he has a horrible feeling that they’re experiencing things like he is, and maybe even worse. He often throws up at the thought, and is reprimanded by the scientists.

urogi • broken.

> urogi had been sold to a collector of sorts.

> the collector in question actually only wanted his wings and talons, so after purchase, requested for Urogi to be declawed and his wings amputated.

> in the waiting for the declawing/dewinging appointment, urogi thought that his owner cared about him, and was content with the care he didn’t know was only temporary.

> Urogi would fluff up in excitement whenever he saw food or the owner themselves.

> when the day came, urogi was obedient and friendly, thinking that he would be fine.

> but terror hit him when they strapped him down to the operating table, and took out the knives and tools they were going to use on him.

> it was an excruciating five hours-

> his wings were slowly removed, and he screamed and cried and tried to tell them to stop, but they put a shock collar on him to shut him up. The operators were unaffected since they wore rubber gloves.

> he had no choice but to silently endure the pain, soft whines of agony escaping him time to time. The blade dug into his precious, beloved wings, and soon enough, he found tears streaming down his face.

> and then his position changed. Since the owner did not care for him and only his wings and claws, the operators could do anything with the rest. They placed him on his back, sending sharp, violent pains throughout his body, the open wounds of his wing-bases pressed on the table.

> and his arms were strapped above his head, and bright lights shown on his face.

> he screamed again, causing another shock through his neck, and to follow that up, he felt a sharp piercing red feeling at his knuckles.

> his talons were pried off his fingers, from their very bases, at his knuckles. They tore of the surrounding skin bit by bit, forcing whine after whimper out of him, ignoring all forms of pleading.

> his remaining body, robbed of all of his prized features, was left in the warehouse of the collector.

> chained up to a pole, he softly squeaks at any shadow that moves, hoping and praying for rescue.

> stuck starving to death, but since the main body was unharmed, but he would never die.

~ urogi simply waits until his counterparts would come get him.

~ whenever they fought, they had his back, didn’t they? Wouldn’t they help him now?

~ why weren’t they coming? Did they forget him?

~ and the horrible realisation, that they were maybe captured too, dawned upon him, and his heart screamed in terror and denial.

#hantengu clones #hantengu #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #pet au #sekido #kny urogi #urogi #aizetsu #karaku #writeblr #headcanons #I feel so silly goofy #weeeheheheee #you can tell i love them very much