#the brainrot is real and this is how it manifests | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maximotts · 2 months

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she hates her ⁘ w. maximoff x n. romanoff

brainrot is real and dangerous! This time it manifested in the idea of an enemies to lovers WandaNat AU in which sorority president Wanda and fraternity president Natasha simply can't stand one another, but Nat finds Wanda's weakness and exploits the fuck out of it. I'm planning to write more of them so I hope you all love these sillies in their enemies phase! P.S. if you know why I named this AU what I did, you're a real one 💖

Seven Things AU. masterlist :: Natasha lives to annoy Wanda so naturally, she plans the Spring Barbeque Night on the lawn of Wanda's sorority without asking and counts down the seconds until she comes down to complain

wc: 4k cw: 18+ only, minors DNI. warnings are clearly labeled, please don't add community filters. sorority!Wanda x fraternity!Natasha. smut. oral (n receiving). strap on sex (w receiving). cum strap. copious insults/hate sex. rough play/manhandling. overstimulation. degradation/humiliation. nat has a seriously filthy mouth and calls wanda lots of names. internal discussions of aftercare.

Wanda hated Natasha Romanoff.

She hated her messy red hair and the cocky way she walked around campus, how unshakably full of herself she always was, no matter how much of an asshole she was being any given moment. And she was constantly an ass, a chronic headache from the first day Wanda met her last year…

Currently Wanda hated Natasha’s heavy boots kicking her knees apart each time she moved them together even an inch.

“You want to get off on sucking my dick so bad, it’s pathetic.” Nat couldn’t stop her long groan and didn’t want to, grip tightening in Wanda’s loosely curled hair as she inched her strap further down the other girl’s throat.

If someone told her last month she’d have the most annoying girl she knew knelt in front of her like this, Natasha would’ve laughed them off; they could barely coexist in a room for more than a few minutes without one of them going off on the other.

They’d found a compromise in fucking each other speechless; mostly Wanda who, for all her holier-than-thou attitude towards the other woman, found herself repeatedly powerless for hidden quickies with Natasha.

Wanda could only claw at Natasha’s thighs, any possible harm dulled by the denim jeans Nat didn’t bother removing. She’d add how stupidly brutish Nat was to her ever-growing list of grievances if it didn’t turn her on so damn much.

The moment the fabric of her harness brushed Wanda’s cheek, they both shivered.

“I’m gonna assume no one’s managed to fuck this pretty mouth of yours this deep yet,” the redhead ground her hips against Wanda’s face slowly, letting her head roll back against the door, willfully ignorant to any discomfort the girl before her endured, “or maybe you’re too much of a bitch for anyone else to bother trying.”

Natasha let up and Wanda growled, disgusted gaze glaring daggers at her tormentor. “You don’t have anyone else to screw with, or have all the girls in town grown tired of your womanizer routine?”

“Fuck’s sake, shut up.” Shoving her forward was all too easy with Wanda caught off guard, burying her tip at the back of her throat so roughly Wanda gagged. Nat drove her hips back and forth at a brutal pace, laughing at the brunette’s sputtering, “That’s it, choke on my cock…”

The two were both too stubborn to break eye contact, Wanda’s wide green eyes watering with embarrassment and Natasha shamelessly getting off to her struggle.

She fucked her steadily, both hands now fisted in Wanda’s hair, the poor girl’s face growing pinker every second as she fought to hide just how much being used like this turned her on. It was no use, the sticky mess of the sorority president’s lip gloss and spit leaving kisses on her fraternity counterpart’s harness, sending Wanda into a dizzying frenzy of arousal that wrenched in the pit of her stomach- and lewdly dripped onto Natasha’s boot.

Oh how Natasha wished her phone wasn’t discarded on Wanda’s nightstand; she’d give anything to have photo evidence of their university’s golden student drooling on her strap and trying desperately to rub herself on her laces. “I bet if I shot a load down your throat you’d cum on the spot… wanna try?”

Nat finally let Wanda take a breath, yanking her away in favor of taking the thick toy in her hand, tapping the head onto the brunette’s already waiting tongue as she nodded desperately. She hadn’t bought this toy for anyone particular, never got much use out of it until she stumbled into Wanda’s secret a few weeks ago; now it was quickly becoming her favorite possession.

An accidentally perfect object to drive Wanda insane.

“Are you gonna let us keep our party on your lawn?”

The question snapped Wanda back to attention, suddenly aware of Natasha’s ulterior motives. There was a strange pang of hurt she felt, only for the briefest of seconds, to know what she was being used for, but it quickly morphed into keen anger. “Absolutely not! Go camp out with someone who actually likes you.”

“Stubborn bitch,” Nat muttered, knocking Wanda backwards. She was unsteady enough for her back to hit the floor with a painful thud, wincing as she met the hard wood of her bedroom. Admittedly, maybe that was a little too harsh, Natasha’s hand reaching out to inspect the girl before she caught herself, remembered who they were to one another, and her originally thoughtful touch became a slap for Wanda’s calf.

In an instant she was kneeling, dragging Wanda’s strawberry printed pajama shorts off to get a good look at her handiwork. They were still new to one another, having only really fallen into rage-fueled quickies, this was Natasha’s first time seeing the full effect she had on Wanda and damn if it wasn’t more intoxicating than all the beers she’d drunk tonight combined. “Pretty mouth and pussy, no wonder I’ve heard you’re good to fuck around with.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, doing her best to tamp down how hot she felt being openly inspected like this, ignoring the sparks she felt as Natasha’s hands parted and pawed at her bare thighs. “Don’t be gross, you pass yourself around more in one weekend than I’ve done my entire life.”

“So I know what I’m doing, Maximoff. Don’t forget I almost made you cum without a single touch just now.” If she cared enough Nat would’ve asked her how many people she actually had been with. Wanda had a reputation for being a tease of epic proportions, flirting cruelly with no intent of following through or, if you’re lucky, getting you off, but for as much gossip Nat heard, she couldn’t think of anyone who could say they’d slept with her.

In truth, the girl was picky, refusing to let anyone get farther than she thought she’d enjoy just as much as they did. Unfortunately Natasha not only met that standard, but rose far above it— the only reason she tolerated her insufferable nature each time they ended up like this. “But I didn’t finish, so get on with it. You’re already starting to bore me- ow!”

The last thing Wanda expected was a slap, stinging and wet, between her legs.

“Whenever you speak, you bore me, but I’m still here…” Her strap slid through the other girl’s cunt effortlessly, the weight of it offering the barest bit of much needed friction, but where Wanda raised her hips, Natasha held them down.

When the tip rested at Wanda’s waiting entrance, the shallowest of motions left her biting her lip to keep from begging. She couldn’t admit how badly she wanted this, how intensely she fought not to wrap her legs around Natasha and take the whole of her all by herself, to sate the persistent empty feeling she’d had since Nat pulled their hips together down on the lawn… “And you’re only here to get the answer you want so go ahead, try and convince me.”

Nat was too selfish to give Wanda time to adjust, pushing inside inch by inch while the girl below her gasped and balled her fists at her sides, too arrogant to grab onto Natasha’s stupid toned arms. But bottoming out felt like mutual heaven and as Wanda felt that cool, rough denim rub under her thighs, she gave in and let her legs clamp about her waist.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” Nat muttered, drawing out slowly just to surge forward, quickly setting a pace so brutal Wanda couldn’t hope to keep up. “Would’ve let you use your fingers before if I’d known…”

“N-No,” Wanda shook her head, eyes fluttering closed. She hated having to get this from someone she couldn’t stand, body betraying her in the presence of the person she wanted to be miles away from, but she forced her brain to submit along with the rest of her, taking her pleasure in a world where Natasha wasn’t a daily thorn in her side.

She needed to feel overwhelmed, overtaken, out of control— Natasha was the only person bold enough to give her what she was after. And she planned to use it to her full advantage. “No? Does perfect princess Wanda need to be fucked like a filthy slut?”

The woman was a mess of moans, doing her best to ignore Nat until calloused fingers gripped her jaw and yanked her back to reality. “Open your eyes, I want you to watch me fuck you dumb.”

When their eyes met again, Wanda’s pupils were blown wide, flushed cheeks pinched together under Nat’s grasp, “I asked you a question, answer me or I’ll leave you here and let everyone outside know you’re locked in your room with your fingers deep in your tight cunt, dreaming of my dick.”

Natasha really wished Wanda wasn’t so fucking pretty with her breathy pants and tousled hair framing her face like a halo; it made sex so much harder not giving the girl exactly what she wanted. “Just fuck me, Romanoff. You have a party to get back to.”

“I do? So you’ll let us stay?” Wanda nearly threw a fit when Natasha stopped again, the thought of being denied twice in one night enough to leave her whining. She was someone people rarely said no to, things simply fell into place for her as she wished, but challenging, thick-headed Natasha… dealing with her was akin to rolling a boulder single-handed.

“Yes, yes fine! Keep your crappy party! Let me cum and you can stay the night for all I care-“ Her eyes were wide open now, focused enough to take in Natasha’s shit-eating grin before she pounded into her once more, faster and more determined now that she’d won.

The redhead never had trouble in bed, satisfying whoever she fell into bed with effortlessly; she was reluctant to admit it’d grown repetitive. So when she ran into a drunk and mopey Wanda stumbling down the hall of her fraternity a few weeks back and cornered her with intention to mock her nighttime walk of shame, Natasha was morbidly curious to hear her confess how sexually unsatisfied she was with such plain honesty.

She couldn’t have predicted Wanda ever being in her room, much less sprawling on her bed like she belonged there and bemoaning her plight. “Is it so hard to just cum on my face? You’d think they’d be excited, but nooo all I get is ‘are you sure that’s what you want?’ Of course I’m sure!”

Natasha was so rarely speechless, but of all possible statements, she’d never expected that one.

Maybe they wouldn’t have happened if Wanda’s guard wasn’t lowered by alcohol. If Natasha hadn’t been standing at the foot of the bed in gray sweatpants that so poorly hid the strap she’d been packing, matching sports bra showing off her toned stomach while she proudly proclaimed she’d have no issue granting Wanda what she was after. If Wanda hadn’t crawled across the mattress to Nat and kissed the taut skin right below her navel before taking those cotton pants between her teeth and pulling, staring Natasha down with a ferocity she never imagined would make her feel anything but a primal rage-

But that night played out as it did and now they were here, another evening spent indulging each other in acts they couldn’t ask of anyone else.

Wanda didn’t announce how close she was, didn’t give Natasha the satisfaction of knowing just how good of an orgasm she’d given her— the woman above her still knew. She’d heard Wanda cry out for her before and she’d already come this far: Natasha wouldn’t stop until she had Wanda begging. “You’re supposed to say thank you when I’m nice to you.”

“In your dreams, playboy.”

Fighting words were routine, but the glob of spit landing on Natasha’s cheek colored her vision red. For a moment, the tension in the air felt too thick, bedroom eerily quiet as Nat’s grip flexed into the plush thighs spread before her, clenched jaw only accentuating her dangerous glare. Maybe Wanda would be afraid if she hadn’t hit the exact nerve she’d aimed for.

“Brats like you never behave for long, huh?” Dragging Wanda across the floor, Natasha rammed into still recovering sex, cupping the back of her knee and forcing her leg into her chest while the other stayed trapped against the wood. The new angle was deeper than Wanda had ever been treated to and her choked sob alone almost made up for Natasha being spit on.

Almost.

“Always such an insufferable… ungrateful…” She grumbled, losing her train of thought as her focus dropped down, suddenly fixated on the now drenched toy at her hips stretched around Wanda’s tight hole, ever growing mess close to dripping onto her ass.

Wanda wasn’t new to people staring at her, most days it boosted her already impressive confidence levels, but the way Natasha watched, always sizing her up like prey to be hunted and devoured, that was different. When she wasn’t looking at her with apathy it was contempt, anything to remind Wanda she wasn’t infallible as she thought she was, but this —Natasha so obviously getting off to her, so desperately rocking her pelvis against Wanda’s whenever she bottomed out in search of friction— made the brunette feel craved.

“What’s the matter, run out of insults?” Nat hadn’t noticed her mouth hanging open until it felt dry, snapping out of her lustrous thoughts to lick her full lips. Seconds from verbal retort, she decided on a better course, one equally as selfish as Wanda’s earlier orgasm: she could very easily knock the girl down some much needed pegs while making it worth her time.

“Just wondering how a spoiled little cumslut like you thinks it’s in your best interest to mouth off.” Wanda didn’t have time to be taken aback, Natasha’s sudden change of angle driving her round tip into that elusive spot deep inside over and over; she cursed her drunken self babbling to her rival that she was the only person, including herself, to find it.

“Shit, Romanoff, slow down-!” She thought for sure Natasha wouldn’t remember, had her pegged as the type of lover who had to learn everything over each time, but no, Nat was the opposite and now she knew too much.

“Shut your mouth and play with your tits.” The command was blunt, powerful enough in its delivery that Wanda didn’t question, shaky hands sliding under her shirt while she struggled not to finish her second time unexpectedly early.

She was slow in her touches, too slow for Natasha’s energetic pace, and the loose cotton fabric hid the view; two things Nat instantly got tired of. “Get your damn shirt out of the way, and I don’t want any of your silly shy shit- I told you to play with them.”

Wanda would kill Nat if she ever told a soul she whimpered, would deny having clenched around Nat in response to her exerting control… still she wrenched her shirt over her head as quick as she could and her hands flew back to her chest. She forced her eyes to stay open, smugly committing the sight of Natasha panting in time with her thrusts, light green eyes glued to Wanda’s fingers teasing her dusty pink nipples into hardness.

“You’re such a creep, I bet you’ll be jerking off to this for weeks,” she mumbled, pinching the sensitive peaks between her thumb and forefinger, moaning louder than intended as she matched Natasha’s motions.

Nat huffed, couldn’t bother denying that yes, she would definitely be thinking about Wanda spread wide open and touching herself for a long time. Her partner would to, though, mind wandering to Natasha ordering her around next time she found herself alone and needy.

Wanda made the mistake of watching Nat’s tongue swipe over her lips, traitorous brain wondering what the smooth muscle would feel like instead of her chilly fingertips, how warm and wet her mouth would be if she ever dared to suck—

This time when the dam broke, she was too distracted to censor herself, back arching and body trembling uncontrollably. If Nat’s focus had lapsed for just two seconds she would’ve missed Wanda utter her name, soft and breathy, syllables stuttered as if she pronounced it for the first time. “Aww poor princess, was that too much for you?”

“Go fuck yourself…” The words were weak, embarrassingly so, and Natasha didn’t hesitate to laugh at her attempt.

“Already working on it, smartass,” Nat didn’t falter for a second through Wanda’s second high, meeting wave after wave as the girl finally stopped pretending she didn’t want this just as much and raised her hips with each thrust.

The redhead had long since made a mess of her own underwear, sticky wetness coating the base of her strap to aid her now desperate grinding into Wanda, rubbing her neglected sex against the textured silicone. She wouldn’t last much longer, not when Wanda insisted on mewling so maddeningly, freshly manicured nails digging into Natasha’s sides as she fought overstimulation.

“You’re being too rough-!” Wanda couldn’t stand the sound of her own voice knowing once again it was Natasha who’d rendered her so vulnerable, but this was always her favorite part, being used and treated so carelessly; the thing she and Nat never properly talked about, but knew she needed.

“But I’m so close, don’t you want me to stuff your pretty little cunt?” Nat taunted, bending over so she could kiss Wanda’s temple. “I think you’ve almost been a nice enough fuck tonight to earn it.”

“God, just do it!” Nat was humping against her so hard it hurt, but then the dull sting ebbed in place of a new sensation -two deft fingers rolling over her swollen clit- and Wanda could only briefly process she was well and truly done for before her mind melted away.

“So demanding for someone so needy… try asking nicely.” Fortunately for Natasha’s rapidly approaching orgasm, Wanda didn’t have it in her to fight anymore, submitting with a barely audible please. “Please what, you know what I wanna hear.”

Wanda could slap herself for being so weak later, maybe when she took a shower and realized how she actually loved being made to beg so helplessly. “Please Natasha, please please, I want you to cum in me!”

“Good girl, there’s those perfect manners,” Nat came with a series of grunts, jerkily rutting while she filled Wanda like she’d been thinking of doing since she stomped out of her house and tried to break up their party.

She’d been so angry, shouting and pointing her finger in everyone’s faces, treating her and her friends like they were rowdy kids. The others mumbled apologies, deferring to Wanda like the figurehead she decided she was, but Natasha loved a challenge, especially one she’d planned on having after purposefully planting themselves on the sorority lawn. Nat wasn’t scared of Wanda, not before this arrangement and certainly not after; now she knew exactly how to fix any argument that popped up.

When Natasha finally pulled out, there was a dampness to the front of her shirt and jeans and again, she wanted to reach over for her camera. Instead she settled for sliding her hands to where Wanda was red and oh so wet, abused hole fluttering as their combined arousal leaked out. It seemed a shame to let it go to waste on the floor, two fingers collecting what’d escaped and, much to Wanda’s exhausted surprise, pushing it back in.

“I’m too sensitive for that…” Twisting away was futile, Natasha still firmly planted between her thighs. She had half a mind to kick her until she saw Nat’s free hand angling her cock down, painting Wanda’s lower half with thick ropes of cum while her thumb nudged her hardened bud, and dull throbs of new arousal twisted her stomach into cramps. “Stop-!”

The pleasure in it was fleeting, the pain of exhaustion winning out, but it wasn’t until she sobbed pitifully that Natasha finally glanced up at Wanda’s anguished face and backed off. “Shit, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine…” Wanda refused to entertain the idea that any bit of Nat’s concern was real; if she dwelled long enough, she’d ruin her afterglow with too many conflicting thoughts. It didn’t matter if the redhead actually cared anyways, her touch, now slowly smoothing over Wanda’s sore hips, started to burn as Wanda came back to her senses. “Just get your hands off me, idiot.”

Natasha could’ve pushed and maybe if it was someone she was supposed to care about she would’ve, but her worry swerved towards brushing off Wanda’s rejection, defaulting back to what they did best: hate each other. “A greedy whore and a squirter, probably a crier too if I bed you on the right day… better hope your secrets are safe with me, princess.”

Her heart dropped thinking about her sex life becoming the latest gossip, but she could only feebly push her away, head twisting to the side just so she could look anywhere but Natasha and her insolent self. “Well you’ve got to have some kind of funny story to tell everyone when you go back the party. I know you’re always low on those.”

Eventually she managed sitting up, stretching out her back and arms, inadvertently giving Natasha one last unobstructed view of her before retrieving her discarded t-shirt and putting it back in place. “Or you could crack open another beer and share how you drool like a baby every time you see my tits, that’s a conversation starter for sure.”

Needing a soft surface for her now aching body, Wanda clumsily climbed into bed, unceremoniously using Nat’s shoulder to lean on as she maneuvered. True, Natasha tended to kiss and tell, but something about doing the same to Wanda felt wrong, at least to be as detailed as she typically was. Maybe it was just the pride she got from being the only person Wanda’s actually fucking; she wanted to keep that for herself.

“Could always come back downstairs with me and we’ll tell them together.” Natasha didn’t need much clean up, zipping her jeans back and standing awkwardly next to Wanda’s now prone form. Neither of them knew how to handle the ‘after’ yet, Nat’s tendency to check in on even her most casual of partners always ignored by Wanda who knew she’d undoubtedly needed that care but couldn’t stomach the possibility of being one in a string of partners.

So they avoided it as much as possible. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’d ever be seen anywhere with you, playboy.”

Wanda felt a different kind of yearning just then, one that dared her to give Nat the option to stay and her cheeks flushed all over again. Her solution was rolling over until her back was to Natasha, steeled herself to stay that way until she was left alone.

Nat sighed, long and audibly irritated, pondering the pros and cons of offering to do something together up here, a calm, private thing where she could sate that instinct to watch over Wanda without explicitly doing just that… but it’d require admitting she wouldn’t mind hanging out with Wanda and she did not want that.

“Sorry, I should’ve said if you wanted to take a night off of being an impossible bitch, you can actually try to enjoy yourself.��

The door closed behind her and Wanda could breathe again, flopping onto her back and staring at the ceiling. She felt empty and not only between her legs; unfortunately for Wanda, Natasha was no longer around to take her frustrations out on. “Stupid asshole..”

Eventually her night ended dangerously close to feigning some illness to lure Natasha’s attention back when she fell asleep and Nat’s, uncharacteristically leaving her party alone with the excuse of having forgotten her phone on the Wanda’s nightstand. She certainly didn’t use the opportunity to see Wanda again, surveying her sleep before pulling a blanket over the brunette’s shivering form.

#wandanat #wandanat fic #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wandanat au #seven things au #wanda maximoff fic #natasha romanoff fic #motts writes.#maximotts

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bokutosmochi · 7 months

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kinktober day four: public sex!

BETTER THAN ICE CREAM ♡ GETO SUGURU

fem!reader x geto suguru

ingredients: somehow, someway geto manages to coax you into having some fun with him in public

what's it: smut

allergen warning/s: public sex, fingering, mentions of geto x reader x gojo, reader is principal yaga's adoptive daughter because her blood parents threw her away, dubcon (just to be safe!)

sugar level: 2.4k

regulars: @ventdavi154 @deobiforever @sugusshi @angelshub

parlor's note: hello, hi, i am suffering from geto suguru brainrot, if you couldn't tell.

bon appetit!

depending on who you asked, you either had good or bad luck. your cursed technique manifested at an abnormally early age, six months old, and on top of that, you were born to a non-sorcerer family who thought to themselves "what else are we supposed to do when our child has some supernatural ability that no one can explain?" so they abandoned you. they wrapped you in, bless them, the softest cotton blankets in the house, laid you in a cardboard box, then threw you away.

thankfully for you, though they had no idea where they dropped you off of, it was in front of tokyo jujutsu tech.

it was a hot spring day when yaga masamichi found you. he just came back from a mission in shibuya, taking solace in the school when he heard a loud wailing noise from somewhere off campus. he could recognize it was a baby, but he just assumed that the cries was because of a more normal situation so he felt no need to intervene.

he trained some more, rested some more, all the while ignoring the sounds of weeping from outside. he forced himself to not pay attention to it "the kid's parents probably have it under control. don't stick your nose in other people's business." until he couldn't anymore.

you've been crying for too long, there was definitely something seriously wrong.

he walked out of the training room, jogging to where the sound came from with more than twenty questions in his head, and that's when he found you. all of a sudden, those twenty questions in his head multiplied. he could sense the cursed energy that you exerted, how old were you? and more important than that, where were your parents?

he took you to the police after that, not quite knowing what the proper thing to do in that situation was. they tracked your parents down, only to deliver the news that they didn't want you, again, bless their heart, they didn't tell the officers the real reason why they didn't want you, instead lying and saying it was because they couldn't support you financially. after all, they did still love you. there was just too much fear in their hearts about what you are. they took the legal action against them, and left yaga two choices: he could either surrender you to the adoption system, or take you in as his own.

he was only twenty years old at the time, not at all mature enough to be a father, but at the same time, he had no idea what would happen to you if you were put into the adoption centers. you could potentially hurt someone without meaning to, and they would hurt you. they would have no idea how to properly take care of you, given the fact that they don't even know about your atypical condition. so he decided to adopt you right then and there.

being his daughter meant you were more advanced than most of your classmates. your cursed technique manifested earlier than theirs did, and your father had a knack for teaching. it also meant that he was a lot stricter than most parents, making you "less fun", as some people would say it. he brought you up as a well-functioning member of society, and your sometimes friend, sometimes pain in the ass gojo satoru would put it, "a goodie-two-shoes."

you don't mind it now. no matter what they said, or how they viewed your hobbies, you still had a lot of fun doing the things that you love, even though it might come across as boring to them.

living the sorcerer life was enough excitement and adrenaline anyway.

as jujutsu sorcerers, you barely got any moments of peace. the fight and blood and, inevitably, death, was a part of your everyday life since you were a child.

it was only in moments like this where you're able to get some semblance of the peace you will never get.

it's six in the morning, the sun is up in the sky to rain golden sunshine on you and your boyfriend, suguru. it was unusually quiet, and you blamed it on the time. it was a saturday, and you knew that most people wouldn't be out and about until three more hours. not you and suguru. he insisted on going on a small walk, and while you contemplated about rejecting his proposition, you thought about how jujutsu sorcerers' life spans are shorter than the average human being's and agreed, wanting to spend as much time with him as you can.

the birds chirp happily above you, while cherry blossoms fall all around you, the vibrant green leaves on the surrounding trees sway lightly in the wind and everything looks picture perfect, including you and suguru, holding an ice cream cone each.

was it too early for ice cream? probably. did either of you care? not really.

you deserved the treat.

"let's sit." suguru said for the first time in a while. earlier, he felt no need to fill the comfortable silence between the two of you. the way his hands, so powerful and strong, softly held yours and the way his eyes, so intense and passionate looked into yours said more than a thousand words could ever hope to do.

you plopped down as close to him as you could get on the bench, winding your arms together while you laid your head against his shoulder.

neither of you said nor did anything, just enjoying the atmosphere silently, sometimes humming the melody of a song stuck in your head before it fades away into the cold air. that was until a stripe of your ice cream drips down the cone and onto your bare lap.

in an action that suguru would describe as helpful, and nothing but demure, he runs a finger through he sticky liquid and sticks the digit into his mouth, sucking it off. "mmm, that's good ice cream." he murmured, as if frightened that if he were to talk any louder, he would shatter this moment into piles of sugar glass and he'd find himself in the heat of battle, with people who are not his priority crying out for him and his grace.

"let me taste some more."

there was no more ice cream trails on your lap, so that statement in and of itself should have already warned you that geto suguru was up to no good. your second warning came in the form of him complimenting the short tennis skirt you wore that day. "have i told you how much i love this pretty skirt of yours?"

"s-suguru, not here."

two of his fingers, his index and middle caressed further up your thigh making your breath hitch in your throat and eyes to flutter shut. "lemme just make sure i got all the ice cream, alright princess?" he puts his fingers on his tongue again. "no ice cream here."

"fuck, sug'"

"how about over here?" at this point, his large hand is under your skirt, grabbing at the fat and muscle. the motion makes your stomach churn in a familiar way and you close your eyes tighter. one of your hands grab onto his bicep and grips.

it's embarrassing how you were already so worked up, but suguru just knew you like the back of his hand. he knew how to make you bend and break to his control and he loved it.

his fingers trace indiscernible patterns on your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him, but still, you were out in the open, in a park that's frequented by people of all ages.

with your other hand, you held onto his. "suguru, not here." your head's fogged up as you say the words that deny you of pleasure. you would've loved to let him have his way with you, but not here. sure, there weren't a lot of people yet, it's just a matter of time, though. in a few more minutes, you're certain that people will come strolling through one by one until the park's in full swing.

"it's just us here, baby. you don't have to worry your pretty little head."

you have no idea what happened to his ice cream. you don't even have a smidgen of an idea what happened to yours. one second, it was in your hand, the next, what you were holding was suguru's hand.

"we're going to get caught." you try to say confidently, but your shaky resolve shows in your equally shaky voice. your hand wasn't holding its own anymore, instead, letting suguru do whatever he desires, with it a ghost on top of his. "no we won't. i promise, kay?" you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head and that makes it harder to resist than before -- and suguru's hands on you was already hard to resist in the first place; he's never broken a promise before.

he runs his warm hand over your clothed cunt sending shivers down your spine and making you clench around nothing. "d'you really think i'll let someone else see you like this?"

you swore you wanted to answer yes. he's done it before; share you. one of his filthiest fantasies was to have you and satoru at the same time and you had no problem giving him that, because that was private, confined to the four walls of your bedroom and wherever satoru runs his mouth, but the man shuts up quickly when suguru shoots him that look.

you weren't able to say anything to suguru's rhetorical question. the bastard started to rub your clit with back and forth motions with his finger before you were able to get a letter out.

it was so unfair.

you couldn't see him. though your fighting spirit was more or less nothing but a heap of quickly melting ice cream on the grass, it'd weaken even more if you were to glance up at him. he'd shoot you a half lidded look he knows always works and you'd be wrapped around his finger in no time. it was like continuing to taunt the opponent when they already have the sword to your throat; a loss, but a determination through it. you weren't willing to admit it to yourself even if you already knew it in the back of your mind.

"there's no one here, kay, sweet girl? you've been working so hard lately, lemme spoil you a bit." you recognize the way he drew hearts on your clit before running it down your slit and back up again. "you're always so tight." he chuckled. "in more ways than one. you should loosen up a bit, hmm?"

you could feel the wetness pooling in your panties, the urge to moan out his name, but if you were gonna do this, you could at the very least stay quiet, so you gave him a nod, a signal that you were answering in the affirmative.

"ah, ah, ah," he breathed out right next to your ear. his finger on you slowed down to a cruel, teasing pace, just putting enough pressure to have you lowly mewling at his side, but not enough to give you proper satisfaction. his words was just as teasing "i wanna hear words."

you gritted your teeth, both in annoyance and focus so you wouldn't end up moaning instead. "f-fuck you, suguru."

his chest vibrated as he laughed heartily, shaking you with it. "that's not a stop or a keep touching me, suguru." he punctuated the sentence with a soft pinch to your clit through the fabric making you yelp and your upper body to hunch forward.

your reaction only made him laugh harder.

as each second passes, your brain gets foggier and foggier. it was harder to speak now than it was seconds ago; harder for your head to think of the words that'll grant you pleasure, and harder for your mouth to cooperate with your head. your hips had a mind of its own now, mindlessly grinding against his hand, spreading the wetness that have already seeped through your skirt all over the park bench.

"k-keep touching me, suguru, fuck, pl-please." you panted.

thankfully, with those six words, suguru decided to grant you mercy.

his fingers slipped under your panties, and went straight on your clit, making you go limp against the bench and your boyfriend's side.

"there you go, sweet girl." he murmured softly, gazing at the look on your face; your eyes closed in utter bliss, though scrunched up at the corners - it crumpled deeper in time with your thighs twitching - your mouth in a relaxed O, only to close whenever you gulped. "just relax onto me, yeah?"

it didn't take much more for you to get close. after all, the knot in your abdomen has been coiling since the moment he first put his hands on you.

suguru knew that too; knew you wouldn't last much longer if he continued to touch you like that.

the last straw was when he nudged the hood of your clit with his index finger while his middle and ring continued to thrust in and out of your wet cunt.

you came harder than you have in a long time. you don't know what exactly it was that made it so, whether it was the excitement of being in public, or whether it was the edging, but whatever it is, to some extent, you're glad it's there.

you saw bright white flashes behind your eyelids, and miraculously, you were able to keep quiet - at least as quiet as you can be - biting your lip as you came.

you were busy gathering yourself when suguru spoke again. "hmm, this may not be ice cream but it's just as delicious." when you meet his eyes with a glare, he smiles his crescent moon eyed smile at you. "actually, i think i prefer this one over the ice cream." he finished licking your arousal from his fingers.

"you know you're gonna pay for this, right?" you quirked an eyebrow at him, arms crossed on your chest. it didn't intimidate him one bit though. "sure thing, sweetheart. i'll be looking forward to it."

i get: reblog

you get: finger lickin good ice cream

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earthtooz · 2 years

Text

// PAIRING: eren jaeger x reader

// SYNOPSIS: eren's pretty adamant on getting you to kiss him.

// WARNINGS: FLUFF! reader teases eren, pouty eren, spin the bottle game... kinda, dialogue heavy, cursing, alcohol, lots and lots of, eren is drunk, lmk if there are other warnings i have bypassed!

// A/N: UNEDITED - tags work tags work tags work tags work tags work tags please work, first ever aot piece and i kinda pulled it out my ass lMFAOOOO :o i can't help it the eren and levi brainrot is real. hope i characterised eren somewhat accurately, enjoy <3

"you have to kiss me!" eren pleads, hands clasped together as his green eyes shine up at you.

“eren, what? no! you’re drunk!” you exclaim in retaliation, pushing his face away gently, but despite that, it’s not enough to stop his stubbornness. in fact, it actually intensifies his pleading expression, “you’re gross.”

his face contorts to resemble one of a kicked puppy.

you sigh, feeling the walls you built up soften a little, “eren, i’ll kiss you when your breath doesn’t reek of alcohol and when i know you want a kiss.”

the tips of your ears flush red at the last statement. when eren came up to you with an urgent request for you to kiss him, ‘on the lips’, as he reiterated, you choked on the soda you were drinking. yes, the carbonation got the better of you and started stinging your nostrils, and yes, you were very flustered at his request because first of all, that would cross the line of your friendship and second of all, the childish tone in his voice was very unfamiliar.

the last time you’d heard eren sound this juvenile was when he was 15 and now, as young adults, you can’t remember the last time he whined over something.

especially something as futile as a kiss.

“if this is some dare you better tell me, because that would just be mean-” you murmur with a frown before he interrupts.

“it’s not a dare! i promise, jus’ kiss me.”

“when you’re sober.”

“but sober me would chicken out,” he huffs, “please? just this once? doesn’t matter that i’m drunk.”

“yes it does! you could be spewing bullshit out your stupid mouth.”

“i spew bullshit out of my mouth even when i’m sober.”

“great, now i’m even more unconvinced.”

eren huffs and rests his head on your shoulder in defeat. you place a palm on the side of his head so that it doesn’t roll off.

a game of spin the bottle happening in the corner catches your eye.

“why does it have to be me?” you ask, now playing with the roots of his hair, “if you so desperately want to kiss someone go over to that game happening. they look like they’re having fun.”

“that’s connie, jean and sasha,” he comments.

“so? i’m sure they’re down to kiss you. jean’s a good kisser.”

“how do you know?”

you merely shrug with a smirk, looking to get a rise out of the brunet but irritation resides in his features.

“you’re tellin’ me you’d rather kiss horse-face than me?” he questions in a demanding tone, gripping onto your shoulders. eren also adds a, “besides, i don’t want them to kiss me, i want you to kiss me and i’m not about to join a game where you’re not one of the options.”

suddenly a lightbulb appears on his head and he murmurs a ‘be right back’ before disappearing into the crowd.

true to his word, eren manifests 30 seconds later, now holding an empty beer bottle as a faint yell of ‘what the hell, yeager?’ echoes behind him.

“sit down,” the brunet gently commands and you do as said, amused.

“are we gonna play spin the bottle, eren?”

“yes.”

“just us?”

“yes.”

you were having fun at this point, so you tick your friend off a little more, “c’mon, that won’t be fun. armin seems like he’s down to play and so does-”

eren shoves the empty beer bottle into your hands with a simple command, “spin.”

doing as he says, he watches the glass closely as it circulates repeatedly from the sheer force you put into it but at last, it begins to slow, with the head finally choosing its victim.

it lands right on eren, no mistaking it. he laughs brightly and cheers.

“finally! you gotta kiss me now!”

you smile softly at his behaviour, about to relent if it weren’t for mikasa cutting your interaction short with armin draped on her shoulder, “hey y/n, i think it’s the end of the night for armin and i. mind dropping us home?”

“sure,” you reply before glancing over to eren, who is seething with irritation at this point, “are you gonna go home too or wanna enjoy the party a little more?”

he grunts, “i’ll go.”

mikasa helps him up as you fish for your car keys, leading everyone to your car. the trip was quiet, eren’s unaddressed anger squeezing the peace away and instead, replacing it with a suffocating tension. it wasn’t until you arrive at a red light that mikasa speaks up.

“what’s your problem, eren?”

the man in question turns his head away, sulking further as he crunches up the plastic water bottle in his hands, “it’s nothing.”

she turns to you with confusion in her eyes and you can’t help but chuckle, “leave him be. boys will be boys. so how did armin pass out? thought he didn’t like getting pissed drunk.”

“he’s just a lightweight.”

“so’s eren. our luck, huh?”

mikasa grins and the conversation continues until you drop armin and mikasa off, leaving you alone with the same man who’s been harassing you for a kiss.

thinking about it is getting you flustered, but you recall how disappointed eren looked when mikasa interrupted his moment of victory and in compensation, you ask if he wants to ride shotgun. he grunts in agreement.

“you okay to stay the night at my apartment? i don’t trust that you’re gonna keep yourself safe whilst intoxicated. second i look away you might go and pick some fights with guys double your size.”

“and i’d win.”

“and you’d win.”

nothing eventful occurs during the drive back to your apartment and it’s not until you’re settled on the couch with pizza in between the two of you that he asks about the kiss again.

and you choke on your pizza all the same. dude really needs to learn what better timing is.

“i feel a lot more sober now, so please?”

“did you know that alcohol can last in your system for more than 24 hours-”

“stop avoiding the question.”

“adamant as ever. y’know what, when you wake up in the morning and you still feel the same, let me know.”

excitement glistens in his eyes, “hope ya like morning breath.”

you throw a pillow at him.

***

rapid knocking wakes you up from your slumber and the first thing you see when you wake up are the analog digits on your bedside clock reading 7:32. damn eren and his early bird tendencies - and why is he knocking so urgently at this time of day?

trudging to the door, you swing it open and you’re greeted by the charmingly boyish smile you’re accustomed to.

“so… about that kiss.”

yeah i didn't make y'all kiss in the end lMFAOO GET FUCKED!...but you look so pretty when you press reblog, like or follow 😁😁

hope you enjoyed regardless, have a good day/evening!

#eren x reader #eren fluff #eren yeager x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #eren drabble #eren imagine #eren x you #eren jaegar #eren #eren jeager #eren yeager #eren yaeger #eren yaeger x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #shinkegi no kyojin x reader

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astrolavas · 1 year

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Wait that hunter and willow struggle with vulnerabilty essay you mentioned... Hand it over 🫵

KXJSK thank you for enabling my brainrot, let's GO 🫡

okay so, for starters, we all know both hunter and willow tend to hide their vulnerability, push down their feelings and repress a lot, but it's actually super interesting how they do it in completely different ways and for such different reasons.

i've already written one essay about hunter's tendency to do that here, but that was a while ago, so let's refresh it up a little bit with season 3.

hunter lived his entire life in the emperor's coven, as a magicless witch at that, isolated from everyone and manipulated. he got used to ignoring and hiding how he felt, because showing vulnerability in the coven was seen as weakness, and showing his real emotions could have genuinely very very bad consequences for him. especially with him having no magic, he was already disrespected and seen as lesser by everyone (for example, the covenheads) but he yearned to be respected, to be treated well, equally; so he couldn't afford to show any vulnerability there. and when it came to showing negative feelings near belos... well. that especially had the potential to take a dark turn really fast; to provoke belos to do something. it was genuinely dangerous for him to express his emotions, it wasn't safe for him at all. he could NOT do it.

his golden guard persona also comes into play here and it's SO interesting how he uses it. masking (in a literal, psychological AND metaphorical sense); using it to feel braver, to act more confident. taking on a role of the emperor's trusted right-hand man instead of the lonely kid that he was. all this... well, surrounded by that hurtful mentality and hostile coven environment, he had to do it; to be more respected, to be able to do things that he had to do, to actually FUNCTION. it was a necessity for his survival.

but here's the thing, he likes to think of himself as a more of a practical/logical/rational thinker, and he IS in general, that is true, but he actually DOES act based on his emotions and moral compass quite often. he's also really good at reading and analyzing people, and immediately getting them. he's oblivious to some things but overall he's emotionally smart, and very very insightful and perceptive....... it might be sth he's naturally skilled at, but he also definitely had to learn it; had to know how to read belos' mood and probably learnt all the little things he had to watch out for on some days, all the little signs to stop talking or look away. all that was, once again, for his own safety. BUT OKAYKXJSKK we're accidentally going off course here so let's go back slightly- hunter is also VERY expressive (which makes sense considering he wore a mask most of the time. ............. also hyper-expressive autism #real #so true—) so oftentimes his emotions are actually (no matter how hard he tries to hide or deny them) well visible on his face, before he manages to school them; although that also depends on the exact emotion he's feeling, some are more visible than others. so this is interesting, how he simultaneously automatically represses/hides some of his feelings and manifests them as something else but also feels everything so intensely and is such an open book based on his initial facial expressions. both of these facts coexist.

so, vulnerability. we already know hunter has trouble expressing his emotions at times. he loves to pretend he's okay when he clearly isn't; and it takes a LOT for him to open up to someone. he only really lets himself be truly emotionally vulnerable next to people he fully trusts and feels safe with, it doesn't come to him with ease.

that's why his scene with luz in the forest shack's basement is so important. that ENTIRE scene, actually. we can really see how much they've grown to trust each other, how safe they feel in each other's presence. what they had going on with their secret-keeping was not really fully healthy at the time, because they kept comforting each other from their VERY similar perspectives/stances, which just further locked in their mentality of "oh they'll hate both of us when they find out our secrets"; they were ensuring each other's fears by relating to each other; it was a circle. but nevertheless, they still cared about each other and have grown to care about each other even more throughout the few months.

here, hunter managed to admit that he was scared. he felt comfortable enough to admit his vulnerability like that to luz since they've grown closer and truly trusted each other with this. he's grown SO much.

and then... the crying scene. i am not exaggerating when i say this is SUCH an important moment for hunter's character, as well as a perfect insight into his dynamic with luz. especially since the thing that jumpstarted his cry was luz telling him he's family now, and that she wants to ensure he's safe too... all his emotions coming to the surface, him finally not managing to keep stuff in, allowing himself to be vulnerable like that next to someone, actually crying and letting it out instead of holding it in or distancing himself in order to go through it alone... it was a big step for him, and it perfectly illustrated just how much he's grown. and the way luz responded to it was also so thoughtful. she was extremely tired and depressed herself, but she still showed worry. she knew hunter needed space to let it all out and avoided crowding him, since jumping at him with worry and questions and hugs would only make it worse and freak him out, but she initiated a delicate half-hug after a moment, non-verbally expressing her care.

but moving on!

now, let's focus on hunter post-flapjack's death.

it's a big, traumatic event that affects and shakes him a LOT. he doesn't feel good, he doesn't feel happy, and that predictably results in the same thing as always..... hunter repressing his negative feelings and masking them as anger. prioritizing helping others and focusing on a mission at hand. not being sure if he's okay or how he feels or how to express what he feels when someone asks.

this is the behaviour we've ALWAYS seen from him in such situations. in season 2a, when he's just generally unhappy even if he doesn't realize it, and appears as angry and irritable... and in labyrinth runners, when he lives alone while dealing with serious life events; distances himself from everything and everyone, and then tries to act as if nothing had happened, and isn't sure HOW to express/talk abt his feelings, prefers to focus on someone/something else instead. andddd at the end of thanks to them after flapjack's death! when he immediately asks if everyone else is okay and jumps in to comfort luz and focuses on taking belos down; on a task. JUST... AUGHH! he prefers to push through his feelings cuz it's a defense mechanism, the same one he's been using in the past; in the coven. it allowed him to survive, and such instinct is not something that's easy to abandon.

so, this entire pattern is so, so clear in how he acts in for the future too. he tries to mask his grief and sadness with anger and coldness. he keeps pushing people (and palismen) away, distancing himself from others, acting irritable, focusing solely on the mission at hand, just wanting to find belos immediately; thinking about literally anything but flapjack or what happened just a few hours prior, cuz it hurts too much to think about it. the sadness and other emotions that accompany him as a result of flapjack's death keep sneaking up on him in random moments, but he fights not to let them through fully. he cannot allow himself to break down right now.

but then, he's alone for a moment, and he allows himself to feel some vulnerability here. he's overwhelmed by what's happening and misses flapjack. and, as always, he doesn't know what to say. he feels everything so intensely inside but he has no idea how to express that on the outside, he doesn't know how to put everything that he thinks and feels into proper words; how to accurately communicate everything he wants to communicate to gus and willow. he struggles with that.

but just like willow had her arc of repression (to be talked about in a second) and finally realized she can rely on other people too and allowed herself to show feelings and vulnerability instead of letting it all consume her from the inside out, hunter similarly let himself show some of that vulnerability to his friends. in the span of that moment, driven by pure instinct and his love for his friends, he managed to put what he'd always wanted to say into words.

he also realized that flapjack is always going to be a part of him in a way (both literally and metaphorically), even when he's not actually there, and it brought him some comfort at last... it didn't heal him or got rid of his grief ofc, there's a long journey ahead of him, but it helped him with the first step of dealing with grief and accepting what had happened.

now, when we compare how he is with feelings right now to how he was at the beginning of the series, he's truly grown so much. he's always gonna somewhat struggle with expressing his emotions and vulnerability, but now that he's surrounded by people who care about him, whom he trusts with his life, who he doesn't fear being vulnerable around, it's going to be so much easier for him. of course, there are always going to be instances where something bad happens and he represses again; his defense mechanism and trauma response aren't going to just instantly disappear like that. but he has people he can be his true self around now, people he can confide in; it's going to help him a lot. and he's going to continue growing, and developing as a person.

.....yeah! okay, now... willow time!!

willow's repression arc has always been always kinda sprinkled in and hinted at throughout the duration of the series. we know she was bullied for a significant amount of time and it affected her confidence a lot, but it also made her repress and push down her feelings.

i'd say her arc almost had... two parts to it. the first one was her coming out of her shell, gaining confidence and embracing her strength. the second one: her struggle with vulnerability and repressing feelings.

meeting luz and transferring to plant track was what definitely helped her with the confidence problem. she flourished (lol) after she was allowed to embrace her interests and strengths. but what remained, was that willow saw her insecurity and emotions as her weaknesses. she even said it herself, she most of all wants to protect everyone she loves (similar to hunter actually), and all-together that resulted in her shutting herself off and just focusing on others' feelings. wanting to be reliable for her friends, seeing herself as the "strong one" in the group; the rock. the mature one.

always pretending she's okay and fine with everything, putting a smile on her face through it all. because after all, she doesn't want others to worry about her, right? (she did it for all emotions too, basically)

especially if we take into account that she was bullied and seen as inferior to others for years + her entire past with amity + just in general her history with the abomination track and the expectations from her dads regarding it, all of it was trauma for willow and she ended up with the need to hide her feelings (something she saw as her weakness/flaws/weak spots) as a coping mechanism. she hated being seen as weak, and after she gained more confidence in herself, that feeling only grew.

in for the future, we could see just how much the suppression was affecting her. she still tried to be cheerful, dependable, not bothering anyone with her own worries, trying to make others feel better. but with each next moment, every feeling of hers builds up more and more, until finally it cannot be contained anymore. and explodes.

her magic is actually also a great metaphor/illustration of her feelings suppression. whenever willow's especially feeling things, we can always see how her magic reacts too it, how her emotions manifest through it. and this scene in ftf is a great visual representation of it; how the vines slowly cover her until she's completely buried under them. how helpless she feels. man...

but at last, she allows herself to let her feelings out. she's assured that she's not any worse for it, told that reliable people can rely on others as well. she lets all her worries and fears and thoughts and vulnerability finally show, instead of letting it all consume her from the inside out. it's such a turning moment for her. because from then on, she's shown to genuinely express more emotions and not depend entirely on herself, now that she's aware it doesn't make her any less strong. she's assured none of her friends are gonna think any less of her, or to see her as weak, and that's good.

actually, another thing i wanna bring up is willow being saved and bridal-carried by hunter in this scene.

could she have saved herself? yes, most likely, just like she did in any sport in a storm, when she was still suppressing any weaknesses of hers and relying on herself only. if hunter hadn't teleported to save her, she'd probably do just that. but this little moment is actually such a good illustration of how now that she's allowing herself to depend on others too (instead of just be dependable), she allows herself to be saved. when she needs it.

see, this is actually the thing i've seen lots of people confused about because "willow is independent, she wouldn't want to be saved" and... that actually confuses me, because it truly misses the very core of her character arc.

the point is that she CAN take care of herself and she wants others (especially people who see her as weak) to know that and to not underestimate her abilities (just like we've seen in labyrinth runners, for example). but, at the same time, she also wasn't allowing herself to take her guard off or to be saved by others for a long time exactly for that same reason; because she didn't want to be seen as weak anymore. she wanted to be seen as only strong and independent, to the point where she deemed any weakness of hers as bad.

like, that's the entire point of her character, her repressing negative feelings then finally allowing herself to open up and be more vulnerable (+ realizing it doesn't make her any less strong). she doesn't hate being saved necessarily, she hates being seen as inferior and weak and incompetent. for example, willow hated when amity constantly tried to save her in labyrinth runners instead of letting her take care of things herself or acknowledging her strengths because it made her think amity thought she was not capable of protecting herself. because it was amity saving her from the smallest things. it made her feel disrespected, as if she was called weak right to her face.

now... hunter never saw willow as weak, ever, and he knows perfectly well that she can take care of herself. he respects her and likes her in her entirety, both for her strength as well as her softer, more vulnerable side. BUT in moments when he thinks she does need protecting or saving, he doesn't hesitate to do so. and now that willow has let herself be more vulnerable and realized she can let herself rely on others more, she clearly appreciates and doesn't mind it whatsoever.

the mutual trust and respect is the actual key point in hunter and willow's relationship; they both know each of them are strong and skilled and able to protect themselves, but they also know each others' vulnerabilities and want to protect each other when a situation actually calls for it. both willow and hunter want the ppl they care abt (each other included) to be safe and they will protect them when they need it, but neither of them would like... completely discredit someone's abilities to stay safe on their own. so when it comes to willow's strength complex, hunter knows when willow can take it cuz he respects her and trusts her abilities, but when she actually needs it, he'll gladly save and protect her as his priority; but not in frivolous instances when she can take care of herself. and she will do the same for him.

so yeah!

tldr; it's actually super cool how both willow and hunter repress their feelings a lot and prioritize others over themselves but it manifests in such different ways and comes from slightly different circumstances/reasonings for each of them.

willow more-so feels like she has to be the more mature one in the group, and she pretends she's okay and fine and focuses on how others are feeling instead of herself cuz she wants to be dependable and hates showing weakness or being seen as weak. whereas, hunter isn't sure how to express himself and when he feels negative things, they manifest as anger/irratibility. he prefers to focus on some productive task instead and he prefers to distance himself from others, and it also all comes down to how he grew up in the coven and how he was raised by belos. like it's... SO interesting how they both do something so similar at its core but so differently.

#i don't have a phd in willow's character though so i can't write as much abt her as i can abt hunter kxjsk but yEA... it's all so neat to me #toh #the owl house #my toh talk #hunter #willow #nicole answers #Anonymous

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lxmelle · 25 days

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The subconscious, the soul, and the body...

It’s an understatement to say that the links and concepts between these are complicated / complex within the jjk world.

I’m just going to write about what I understand so far, and if anyone else has theories or a deeper understanding of it, please drop me a comment or reblog with your own thoughts. I’m open to discourse!

The rest is just largely focused on Gojo and Geto - exploring how their subconscious, soul and body may have been affected by their relationship.

What was meant to be short has gone into theorising territory as I attempt to make sense of things. I am Satosugu / SuguSato indulgent.

(Ps: I don’t discriminate over who tops/bottoms or if they even do it at all. Soulmates don’t necessarily need to copulate as far as I'm concerned).

Be warned and afraid.

It’s a real whopper of an essay by the way. If that’s not your thing, please just skim or pass - or stay for the parts you want to read and do it in multiple sittings if it gets too much.

Can you imagine what it’s like living in my brain? Ha! It’s too much for me too, hence, the info dump.

Sharing here, as I think some people enjoy reading about them too.

NOT spoiler-free. More under the cut (o^^o)

In my brainrot, the cogs start turning and sometimes 2 becomes what looks like 4 and I just have to get it out - you know the drill. Word vomit. If you’ve clicked, welcome and I hope you enjoy your stay with my obsessive brainrot, tangents, love for Gojo and Geto.

A bit on the Soul, the Body, Sub/Consciousness, and Cursed Techniques - skip this part if it’s boring:

So, based on what we have been told, Mahito believes he can see the soul, and that the body & soul are separate. For humans, souls can linger after death but upon rebirth, curses and humans alike will not know one another nor will they retain memories.

“Lingering after death” might be relevant to “north and south” too, but we don’t know with certainty what the afterlife in jjk looks like. North seems to mean rebirth - to become “someone new” - that is assuming Mei Mei is right.

Being sealed in an object (like Sukuna) is different to being in another body (Kenjaku and Tengen), and being in a binding vow/curse also changes depending on the nature of the contract, and being reborn is largely different to the rest because it seems to denote that the soul resets its memories at the very least.

Worth noting that I’m not clear on whether the spirit is different to the soul as well. They could be synonymous to some degree, but I think a spirit has the essence of a soul (indicating consciousness), and I define something with a soul to be at least a creature (with a physical body) or entity (metaphorical form).

In Toji’s resurrection case, his body is so strong from Heavenly Restriction, that it overpowers the soul of the host - Toji thus kills granny. His soul information wasn’t brought back, but some information must’ve been carved into it for it to retain… something. This something included parts where his body recognised Megumi as someone significant enough and attacked itself. (One has to ask if this is a parallel with Geto in no less than fewer than 10 chapters earlier, where his hand moved - more on this later.) Based on this, the body is separate to the soul but information can be written into it. And like the soul, a body can also be brought back through cursed technique.

OR, another interpretation is like as Kenjaku hypothesised - the body and soul are one. And if granny’s cursed technique is just summoning information, and when the soul and body are very linked like in Toji’s case, they both manifest - as in the body is so strong it pulls his soul along with it. I’m speculating. It could equally be soul information carved into the body (I’m leaning more to this interpretation).

Where curse techniques are concerned… For Yaga, he can extract the soul from the body - insinuating they are also not one and the same. And it’s not just information because the soul exists within what becomes a special grade cursed object. Multiple souls in panda’s case.

And cursed techniques themselves seem to be bound to the body for some - as in Geto’s case where Kenjaku can utilise his as well as his own techniques (along with those of his previous vessels)... however, with Sukuna and his vessels? Soul. Yuta with his copy technique - these are existing without the body or soul as this is his curse technique I guess. Reincarnated sorcerers bring their skills along with their souls too. And domains are supposedly tied to the soul. Geto was not shown to have one (but jjk 0 was created at a time where domains never existed) and if he did, Kenjaku did not have access to to it, unless the theory that the Womb Profusion is real.

Yuji could meet with Megumi's soul buried deep in his own body shared with Sukuna, that was now sunken in due to the bath of evil and killing of his sister. He also has the ability to shake a person's soul through his punches. So the soul seems to be something that can reside within a vessel and be touched through powers / ability.

Gojo was shown to be able to “see” something akin to Megumi’s soul, but this wasn’t depicted for when he saw pseudoGeto, despite the light novel saying he was constantly “staring at the shape of his soul” as he flew off on his pelican spirit. His physicality (six eyes) all but confirmed it was Geto. It was his soul that said otherwise - and it was enough to refute his six eyes. And Kenjaku believes the body & soul are one and the same, thus, confirming Gojo’s six eyes.

Or maybe Gojo can’t quite see souls? We haven’t been explicitly told. Did he see souls everywhere in that case? A part of me suspects Gege retconned this “seeing of the soul” for his fight with Sukuna, but I might be wrong. We saw the same blurry image as a representation of the soul with his six eyes, but this theory doesn’t hold up when we consider how he met with Geto at the airport.

The afterlife scene in ch236 shows their souls / consciousness somewhere at an airport (it is not known if they are merely greeting Gojo or have been there awaiting his arrival). This shows us also that they are separate. The soul has gone somewhere: Cursed realm or an Afterlife are the possibilities presented to us... because they haven’t reincarnated. Going nowhere doesn’t seem likely in the jjk world as they talk incessantly about souls and how they can be resurrected in one form or another.

For the sorcerer Geto fought with his Shiba doggy in HI - it was a fantasy of sorts - and is similar to the space between “curse and reality” that Kenjaku talked about with Sasaki. So it could be a cursed realm. And then Gojo smirking when Sukuna was giving his after-battle “send off”… did that indicate the body and soul could be one & the same? Is the afterlife a fantasy? It was a death dream? (Ah, idk how I feel about this, but again, the jjk world believes in souls).

It is so confusing. I know Gege likes the whole “there is no ultimate truth” but making this topic “up to individual interpretation” is really mind-boggling.

But Mahito and Kenjaku end up agreeing that they must be different based on technique. Maybe this is Gege’s retcon lol. Like how he created limitless and then got some people with the knowledge of physics to explain it retroactively?

I guess the manga readers needed a bit more real-world explanation once it got traction, which is understandable. But equally, some things may just need to exist as they are in fiction and unexplainable based on earthly morals or boundaries by the laws of physics and biology as we understand it.

It is possible that it’s just all dependent on curse technique, which makes Yuta’s copy possible without the body, the creation of Sukuna fingers allowing the transcendence of skills and soul without the body, Kenjaku to access soul-information (like memories) without the brain (as well as utilise the cursed technique), and for exceptions to occur, like Megumi and Yuji both accommodating the soul of another entity in their body. How some entities (sorcerer and cursed spirit alike) can touch souls - or even for cursed spirits to take on more human-like existences - implying they, too, can evolve and become a soul. Like humans evolving to become sorcerers (if they can).

And with a technique like cursed spirit manipulation, once a human’s soul is unable to exist in its physical body, the person will die unless they are like tengen with a curse technique that allows its soul to be removed - as as its form weakens… what happens to the soul if a creature / entity / being becomes more spirit than a human, where someone like Geto / pseudoGeto / Kenjaku can absorb it? I suspect they are exorcised, and they live as Pokémon-like shikigami spirits that have no soul?

We know those like Naoya can become cursed spirits, and Rika’s soul can ascend into somewhere leaving a shikigami spirit behind, so this tells us there are various levels of existence and consciousness - like a hierarchy of sorts with the soul being the most pure / transcendent. It makes sense based on my Buddhist understanding too, but who knows what exists in the jjk world. I’m just trying to make sense of it all...

And of course as I write this, ch.257 just dropped and Kenjaku bloody managed to create Yuji in a completely different era after somehow accurately discovering the reincarnated soul of Sukuna’s twin that was absorbed by him in the womb?!? 🤯 Gets pregnant as Kaori and manages to birth Yuji who could have been by luck or by design, inherited his father’s old soul’s Cursed Technique? So since Cursed Technique can manifest despite completely different DNA, it’s possible for one to assume that the Cursed Technique may be bound to the soul rather than the body… or at least for Kenjaku’s technique, he can create it within the body. or the soul?

What. The. Actual. Heck. And what happened to papa Yuji?

My brain starts to go bananas.

So souls can be split into twins if the egg splits into two (Maki & Mai and Sukuna & his twin (reincarnated into papa Yuji), and can reincarnate. But are considered one. But one can reincarnate separately. 🤯

And on reincarnation: Was the previous six eyes & limitless user Gojo before reincarnation, and does that mean that there won’t be another six eyes + limitless user since Gojo chose to go South? Especially since only one can exist in the world at any given time. Did Mai's spirit join up with Maki, or did she reincarnate?

It would make sense if the series is leading us to a conclusion whereby there is a new world where sorcerers don't exist anymore and all these OP beings like Sukuna, Kenjaku, and skills like the six eyes and limitless, cursed spirit manipulation, cursed speech, or copy aren't being reincarnated in the jjk world as it is now - by choice of the users. If Gojo and others all decide to stay in wherever they wish in the afterlife (pockets of reality wherever they may be), then the human world and the sorcerer world and the cursed spirit world will all exist separately.

But I honestly don't know if that's a good ending. It wouldn't make for very good storytelling? And all it would take was for a soul to get bored and wish to be reincarnated. So too many loopholes.

I mean, I could go deeper into speculating, but I really just wanna focus on the impact on Gojo and Geto for now...

More within the Satosugu / Sugusato context. Read here for it, or skip if it’s boring:

It seems romantic for those who have enjoyed the meme... “would we know each other in another life?”

Especially if these two were made to be counterparts. Anyway, moving on to what we see in the jjk world.

Those who like this pairing probably know these scenes:

Take it how you will. It’s rather evocative and indicative of a strong bond. If you’ve read some of my other analyses, you’ll know I feel that in the jjk world: To love is to recognise / know the other, even if they presented themselves differently. To love is to long for them, and to yield - something - whether it is a power or a sacrifice, for another.

Love shapes and forms a reason. Meaning. Purpose. It does something to the subconscious. It affects and alters a person and their soul. And even without the subconscious or the soul, one’s body can react.

Some of this will be my personal interpretation but it remains canon that Gojo’s soul recognised it wasn’t Geto with Kenjaku inhabiting him. Gojo didn’t want to kill Geto but he did in the end partly because Geto wanted him to. Maybe a part of him always wanted Gojo to, which is why it/he was a curse only Gojo could bear - the responsibility to kill him was always Gojo’s.

Gojo always had Geto in the palm of his hand. Neither acted to tip the strange unspoken balance they had where no lines were crossed until Geto declared war. Geto didn’t want to pull Gojo into his broken-down world in an attempt to attack the roots of the problems in the curse-filled world. Gojo attempted to reform the jujutsu world for a long time whilst holding it up within the institution as he knew it, hoping to make room for Geto should he wish to be saved. Yeah we know he really didn’t want saving in that way... he was too busy trying to save the ones he deemed worthy by eradicating the sinners, evolve those with potential and annihilate the weak. If he was weak he deserved to be killed.

Both longed for the other but could never quite be honest with one another. I headcanon that the words, “if I could be you” were thought about more than once by each of them. That’s why Geto said it and tried to be strong, and Gojo wanted to reform the world through eduction. They swapped fortes because they lost the other on the paths they walked on. They needed each other but fate had a different plan.

They didn’t know how to bridge the gap that had formed between them until many years later. Ultimately, despite their differences, they shared the same ideals and were designed to be counterparts. There was always a space for the other in their hearts.

In those two scenes, I wondered for a while: what was Gege’s point of depicting Gojo switching back to “ore” (in reference to himself - a nuance that cannot be translated into English from its original context within the Japanese culture) for two brief moments. What does it imply about their connection? How do we understand the levels of their “counterpart-ness”? Soulmatism. Romanticism. Whatever you want to call it.

And even pseudoGeto’s body reacting to Gojo’s voice calling out to Suguru. Nothing much ever came from it, and the conversation Mahito and Kenjaku had about the soul hasn’t been expanded on since (to my knowledge). So what was Gege getting at? What are we meant to understand? Back then, it maybe served as an unresolved issue - that Geto may need to have been rescued if his soul was trapped. But now that we saw him at the airport... we can all collectively breathe a sigh of relief - unless it was just a death dream. Then we can collectively cry.

So let’s go back to their connection. We know that Gojo and Geto were practically bonded and changed by being each others’ “one and only”. However you interpret their love is up to you, but it is undeniable that there is something unique and irreplaceable shared between them.

It was Mimiko and Nanako who recollected that Gojo was Geto’s One and Only 「たった一人の親友」.

This is undeniably canon. Geto mustn’t have mentioned him only once, or at least they learned through observation, that Gojo was important to him despite having his cult family. It’s possible that Geto might not have seen the other cult leaders much, if they were operating from different places. So this precious space was never filled after they “argued”. Geto was probably lonely / alone too after becoming PapaGeto.

And as a parent: you love your kids but they aren’t replacements for your life partner / soulmate. The same can be said for Gojo and his students. Even after death, there is a placeholder for that person. Even between partners, some people are more significant than others.

I wanted to note that this happened after the Toji incident:

Geto is actually holding an eraser, and Shoko, the pencil. It appears switched in the anime. So maybe it is not as important as it could be: by that, I mean, if Geto chose an eraser because he doesn’t like the idea of harming Gojo. So this is my headcannon.

But I theorise that it’s possible. Geto doesn’t like harm to come to those he loves - like arguing. With his cult family, this was one of the philosophies they continued after his death. Geto interpreting the kfc breakup as an “argument” also speaks volumes, imho.

The eraser goes further than the pencil, probably because it is considered less dangerous than a pencil, which Gojo elaborates in the next panels.

We also know that Gojo knows Geto - the ins and outs. He knows what he smells like (residuals, scent or whatever you want to call it) and can predict what he might do based on how well he knows him. This is reciprocal as Geto, too, knows how Gojo thinks. Kenjaku of course exploits this.

It’s not too much of a stretch to think that Gojo has a tendency to let his guard down around Geto. Hence his switching to “ore” 「俺」 and his mask “of proper decorum and speaking politely” slips when he sees pseudoGeto (whom he thinks is Geto momentarily) and also Geto at the airport. He reverts to “boku” after that. (If you’re not already aware, Gojo used “ore” throughout the Hidden Inventory arc but changed to “boku” after Geto left - likely as a result of maturing and adopting his friend’s advice to be more polite.)

For context:

Gege himself says he sometimes switches to usage of “ore” when he is excited - taken from the hared interview with Tite Kubo in the jjk character book.

So it’s really not imagining things when we see Gojo depicted specifically to be reacting like this to Geto alone. It seems like Gege is showing us something about Gojo’s subconscious / psyche. They are largely authentic with each other. There is a cultural difference in Japan about context of the inner (honne) and outer voice (tatemae). “Ore” and “Boku” represent that for Gojo respectively, I gather.

Their friendship, the rupture (and the intermittent anguish over 10 years), and having to kill his best friend - are all precisely why he gets sealed. His subconscious seems to know that Geto wouldn’t hurt him. He also trusts that Geto’s subconscious wouldn’t hurt him either. He believed Geto wouldn’t kill young sorcerers - and true to form, this cost him his life.

So there is trust for the person’s mind, there is knowing/identifying of the soul, there is familiarity of the body…

Which is interesting because all that is there is the body. Geto’s subconscious isn’t there anymore with his brain not physically present in pseudoGeto/Kenjaku’s body - but then his arm reacts to Gojo.

It even continues reacting for some time. Look at those veins along his arm in the panel below:

This is significant in the reciprocal nature of Gojo and Geto - Gojo’s speech changed for a moment and he is hit with all the memories from 3 of the best years of his life - his “3 years of Aoi Haru”/3年の青い春 like being smacked with his own unlimited void. Geto’s body reacts involuntaril and tries to retaliate, (just like Toji did several chapters later to stop himself from hurting Megumi/ending his massacre).

They reached for each other, y’all 😭

Again my brain just goes places, and it made me wonder about the soul & body thing. I hope that Geto’s soul is really at the airport, but that there is information carved into the body (like his memories) - if they’re important enough to become instinctual.

It is also, by extension, then possible that... Kenjaku experiences something outside of just thoughts /memories when inside his host...

Just as we see here - yes he does need to keep an eye on the cube, but his expression / reaction to knowing that the girls’ presence are there... addressing them only after the curses have left, and what he says to them, as well as admitting he doesn’t remember what regret feels like -

…and cue an tighter shot of the prison realm (with Gojo’s eyes in the anime depiction) (and interestingly the back of the realm has stitches like Kenjaku’s forehead).

Gege likes to foreshadow and follow up with something significant. So similarly to the above where he sees the girls and acts like he doesn’t give a toss, but is depicted to seem contrary to what he says. Could it also be that it Gojo’s eyes staring that incited the involuntary movement, and the reemphasis of Kenjaku saying he was enjoying the view of seeing Gojo captured - a similar pattern? This old man is just a brain who forgot how to feel?

It begs the question for me: If there was something imprinted within the body that Gojo could call out, what was there?

It remains possible that Kenjaku was simply detached / in denial / ignoring any emotion that arose within from Geto’s body.

Arguably, it is possibly quite characteristic of Kenjaku who was a “mother” and had some motherly instincts remaining, or it could also be seen as an emergence of some sympathy or sadness for the girls that may have come from Geto’s body. I mean, he led Yuji’s friend (Sasaki) out of the culling games, acting like a parent / guardian...

Hmm…

We do not see a physical reaction to any children though; and I guess a situation like that (with the Hasaba girls) in comparison to one that may be filled with adrenaline like a trapped Gojo speaking in that low baritone to him, is inherently different. But regret though? Was it actually a knowing smirk Gege showed us of Kenjaku in front of the prison realm - as if to say he had bested Gojo and Geto? He got his way with the girls too, despite knowing Geto’s feelings?

Or did he simply not recognise it, and it was truly a first for Kenjaku because there normally isn’t something there, but with Geto’s body - something actually stirred / retaliated... because it was Gojo?

I mean, from a neutral perspective, it would seem like the author is shipping them, lol. But I’m not going to lie - we don’t get much honest feedback from Geto about Gojo, so nuggets like those are quite affirming that the connection felt between them was very mutual.

Because if we see how it all began, and note that all Geto wanted to do was to protect those who needed it (even if it was at his personal expense). First it was humans, then Gojo, then sorcerers and then his family too.

And this was born out of the fracture from being unable to be relied upon to kill Toji (avenge Gojo & Riko’s death) or to fight Toji with Gojo, since leaving him alone resulted in getting him killed - which he must’ve believed happened until the point he saw him alive again carrying Riko’s lifeless body...

His connection with Gojo was so strong that (as Gege described it) his body reacted like a dragonfly whose head has been cut off. Something imprinted so deeply in their friendship that it became instinctual - carved into the body - and may not be related to the mind (therefore my avoidance of using the term “subconscious” with pseudoGeto, as it would be Kenjaku’s consciousness).

Moreover, if we take Toji’s resurrection as an example, even in the absence of a soul, the body can still remember and react. In a Geto’s case, where there is a different mind controlling it, for the body is react as separate entity is rather remarkable. I guess by saying this, I’m postulating that I believe body & soul are separate - because, if I’m honest, I want to believe Geto’s soul is with Gojo post-chapter 236.

But. We know there are all of Geto’s memories within the body still after Kenjaku inhabit it. In the absence of the host’s brain. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, Gege - but here we are. And maybe. Emotions too. Or memories of them at the very least. Not that it matters to Kenjaku.

This greatly disturbs me. It’s a level of injustice that also feeds into why I have been avoiding doing metas in Gojo - because his suffering and level of unfairness thrust upon him for simply being “blessed” and resilient just … hurts so bad. I can’t face it just yet.

So what exactly made their connection so profound?

I theorise that Geto interpreted Gojo as wanting to fight alone. That he was in his best element doing so. Kenjaku says this about Gojo too, knowing Geto’s memories.

Short sidenote: Whilst it is true that his technique lends itself better to soloing, I wonder how they might’ve fought together had the Toji incident not occurred. How would they overcome Unlimited Void aside from being back/to-back? Could Geto obtain a curse of his own to swallow him up as protection? No doubt, as a team, Geto’s progression could’ve been exponentially increased due to the number and level of curses available to him with assistance from Gojo. And would Gojo be different and enjoy fighting together had it not occurred? I don’t know, but they do seem to have wanted a connection with one another.

He saw Shoko being asked for help with teleportation. Once upon a time, might it have been him? There was no longer any “we” that he could sense. He didn’t feel there was a use when he had “failed” in so many ways after the failure of the mission and also believing that Gojo died that day and he was unable to avenge him.

The conversation with Yuki all but reinforced his feelings of irrelevance and perceived waste of their sacrifice when tengen was allegedly stable again. Subsequent conversations with Haibara and Nanami seals his skewed belief that he wasn’t needed there. Nanami’s choice of words is very interesting in the original text, implying that “it’s enough for him (Gojo) alone, isn’t it?”. Ref post by @nanami-says who has a nice selection of pieces about translations.

Gojo alone could do it. He could train and ascend all without him; untainted and untethered. His downfall was that he didn’t speak to Gojo. Gojo alone was left out. I mean, just because it suited him doesn’t mean he should be left to do it all...

This is so sad.

He left his heart (Gojo) alone. He also left his own heart alone (never happy from the bottom of his heart). In his descent, he was busy rationalising everything else except getting sad that he felt he’d lost his best friend. Arguably, the most important thing, because it is the scariest things and the things that hurt the most often have the most power / potential to heal.

It is possible he was actively avoiding it. Because, if it was purely about chasing an ideal he could have been drawn to look obsessed with it. Instead he has a sorrowful “I love you so much imma break up with you” face.

Gojo could have been the strength he was seeking if he did indeed want to just eliminate all humans, but he didn’t seek that out because (I theorise) he didn’t want to be outwardly rejected by Gojo.

And thus, he left instead (ugh! you foolish brave coward!) after snapping, and Gojo was left alone to pick up the pieces all by himself in a place haunted with memories of them together.

Just bloody tragic.

And that’s why it was carved into their souls.

In the depths of despair that he was in, could it be that he believed Gojo was better off without him , and in wanting to cradle whatever pride he had left, he sought to build his own temple where he could live in the void of his own making without facing that he had lost everyday?

Gojo could be free to grow and grow and be the strongest and embrace whatever belief system he now held - whether it was borrowed from him or not.

He even goads Gojo into killing him off since there would be meaning to it.

Sigh. Heartbreaking. It wasn’t the best decision. But we know suffering builds character. At least Gege really likes this theme❤️‍🩹.

Why do I believe he yielded though?

Because caring for others comes second nature to Geto. How many times have we seen him make that forlorn face?

Even with the souvenir he requested from Haibara, in the original he phrases it in such a way he implies he isn’t even sure if he’ll see him. “Satoru too; I don’t know if he’ll have some, but I guess, something sweet?” But. He yields to his preference.

There is limited space in his heart, and all he can do is exclude some in order to vehemently love those he can (or deems worthy enough based on his moral system). He didn’t know any other way to exist. Monstrous love. I’m pretty sure someone wrote about it. If I can find it I’ll link it! I call it maternal rage, but it’s a similar concept.

If he had wished to leave without staining Gojo, the absence of a confession of his love at any point also makes sense - like Nanami, he chose his final words carefully - that he hated monkeys (why preface with “no matter what anyone says”) and in a roundabout way, that he djdnt have hate for anyone at the school (can’t he just say he was happiest in those few years?). He wasn’t happy in the world (you can just kill me).

When he saw and felt Gojo’s love - unwavered and unchanged, seeing him having blossomed into someone still so pure - effortlessly righteous, strong, and proud with his army of students who loved each other... did he dare feel absolved? Did he feel like it was worth his defection? Yielded to others? Unable to be selfish? As sad as he was for himself and that his family would be without him and his dream unrealised; Gojo turned out ok.

Suddenly it gave meaning to his perceived sacrifice. It parallels with Toji and seeing Megumi who wasn’t a zenin.

Ah, this makes me mad somehow, but if it helped him pass and have a good death, what can I say? We all need something different at the end of our lives. And it’s important in the Shinto perspective to have a death free of regret in order to live in the space between nowhere/rebirth and earth. I posted about this in another piece too.

And I think that’s also why it was all carved into his body - enough to react to Gojo calling out to him, “Suguru”, despite being inhabited by Kenjaku. And carved into his soul that’s why he waited in the afterlife for Gojo. To be the first to greet him. I want to believe the body and soul are separate. The subconscious may have acted as a bridge between the two, transferring information from the mind / soul into the body.

But of course as a reader we wished it could’ve been a kinder fate for them. But I guess sometimes people have to pay for their sins as well as the sins of others? Life isn’t fair after all…

And arguably, Gojo needed a way to truly sympathise with the weak and how else through loving and losing someone to shape a person’s soul? It was just rather Geto-shaped, as I elaborated on in my other post.

I highly suspect Gojo may have wanted something different - as being born the strongest, he was always going to be the strongest anyway. This came with a burden. Noblesse Oblige. Being the strongest was written into his entire being - mind, body, soul.

And I think this was something they had both respected. I doubt Geto ever thought of himself as a power equal to Gojo, but they had both valued their friendship. Geto was someone who saw Gojo for a person, before the strongest. That’s why when Mimiko and Nanako asked, he was considered thus “my best friend”, and not the latter. Gojo recognised that for what it was, and felt the tender words that showed Care. Consideration. Love.

Gojo may have wanted Geto to lean on him a little. To let himself take the fall. They both didn’t like burdening the other, and after Toji it might just magnified. He wasn’t the type to overthink his role, but wanting to be the strongest (seeing how far he can go) and taking on all the blame was one of the ways Gojo was extremely loving. It was just something he accepted.

I feel like Gojo wanted to be relied upon to do his part; be his best friend, someone he could still love and do the mental and emotional load for him, spoil him a little in return so he could just do his thing as the strongest and train. He needed his other half to help him to do the things he doesn’t like or isn’t good at doing.

I think that as they experienced their bafflingly complementary and reciprocal friendship … before he knew it, all these experiences and emotions shaped him so much that his soul made room for Geto - as the one person who represented fulfilment outside of being the strongest.

Never once did he think he’d lose Geto like he did. He never wanted to be at it alone. Like a lonely army tank whose comrades had left him on the battefield to fight it out on his own.

Ugh, it hurts so bad. He didn’t think Geto was slipping down. Maybe because it wasn’t something he could understand- even more so after the enlightenment incident where a chasm emerged between him and others. Maybe nobody was ever important enough for him to worry or miss if they left.

He nevertheless never deserved to be met with such loneliness and misfortune. He carried the weight of it all, all by himself. I know they both did in their own way, but there is some tragedy to Gojo where he probably wanted or could have had more to fill his life and soul but there was always a chasm or a void that could not be filled because he could not feel understood by anyone since Geto.

How awful it must feel to have to kill someone you treasure.

We have no idea without much insight into his life growing up. Nevertheless, Gojo consistently shielded those he cares about from self-blame even from the beginning where he must’ve known Geto had such inclinations to be stuck in his own head and he tried his best to absolve it and take it upon himself. The priorities of those he cared about became his, provided if he could do it. He protected the students and made light of situations so they could experience their youth. Something he can remember treasuring well into his adult life. His blue spring / best years of his life were deeply etched into his subconscious and soul. It was what he wanted to give his students and reason for reforming the jujutsu world.

But being shielded at that time wasn’t enough for Geto who was experiencing the worst spiral in his life yet. He needed to feel the weight of his responsibility had meaning and a role. In his trauma, grief and denial, he shatters and reaches a point from which he cannot return. He also knows how Gojo defines the weak - tiresome, “lower”, etc. and that could have been another factor that led to his avoidance of him.

I want to really emphasise how I don’t blame any of them. They are not inherently responsible for the other. Arguably, Gojo needed to learn about that pain in order to know what love is. And Geto needed to realise how flawed and unloving his path actually was.

If only they could’ve both had a compassionate mentor who guided them onto the Teacher AU path 😭

In the absence of such a connection etched into his soul, what might Gojo have become? Another Sukuna? I theorised that Geto helped Gojo connect with those “beneath” him in a recent post. I’m not going to repeat that here, but it makes a lot of sense to me that Gojo learned a lot about love through Geto and his own hard work following the numerous hardships he faced as the loneliest strongest of the modern era.

He faced so much in his short life. Being blessed with the six eyes and limitless was a curse in itself. He spent years paying the price for losing his friend, and even had to kill him. How profoundly tragic. He faced loneliness and criticism for finding joy in the only thing that he practically had: jujutsu (yes that kept him one-dimensional, but similar to MeiMei chasing money and several others pursuing strength alone) it was a hefty price to pay. But he was a sorcerer. After all, the only thing he really wanted was to treasure his blue spring and the person associated with it - Geto.

It is poetic that when Gojo died, his soul found its counterpart. He opened his eyes to the person whose presence had etched itself so deeply that he knew Geto in body, mind, soul. Geto was there to greet him with a heartfelt smile (and pout!).

One meeting him at the point of death, and the other, upon death.

Their exchange is really reciprocal here too, with Geto admitting he was envious and Gojo responding in a way where he implies reassurance akin to “I needed you there”. Link to a post on this:

Geto’s little tear in his eye in not one, but two panels as well.

Anyway… then appearing at the airport reminds me of their exchange many years ago “you’re late Suguru - no you’re early.” And “you’re late, Satoru.”

Well, they’re on time now... better not be late for your flight, kids.

And as Kenjaku said to Gojo before sealing him - 「新しい世界でまた会おう」

“let’s meet again in the new world.”

—————————

Sorry, it’s a whopper from me again.

Just some words in an attempt to close this off:

For someone whose emotions guided and drove his rationale, it was ironic how Geto’s body became a puppet for someone like Kenjaku, who was so cerebral (devoid of empathy) befitting of his curse technique to brain-hop. It fits with the jjk theme of being strong in the absence of love, I guess?

Seems fitting that Kenjaku was bested after slipping up when having that good of a time with Takaba. Ironic isn’t it? All those years scheming, only to lose himself for a moment as he indulged in something novel, and he lost to a scheme himself.

And to be killed by Gojo v3.0 (Yuta) who already defeated him once, also as foreshadowed by Gojo before being sealed, on the date he scheduled 24th November.

The parallels don’t end there either, where somehow mahito who stood beside Kenjaku was created to parallel Gojo in some way too (I haven’t quite pondered on this much yet, but I reckon there is something about the thrill in growing exponentially / fighting sense that they share - it might just be that alone or possibly also the juxtaposition of one being human and one a curse? Their reasons for seeking strength?

I dunno - i gather Yuji who also developed exponentially fast and as an anomaly himself may have similarities. And again, as ch 257 leaked, it makes sense and I look forward to finding out what’ll happen to them (seeing as Yuji is kind of sukuna’s son 🤯 if the jjk world considers twin souls to be one soul - papa Yuji is Sukuna’s twin after all) and also Megumi of course.

Just going to wrap up here now, and please feel free to link me up to a post that can enlighten me or drop a comment with any thoughts?

Sorry for a rambling post. I hope it made sense.

For real, real. Thanks for reading my brainrot ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

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danyvhell-writes · 10 months

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Hi hi hi !! Idk if ur TS headcanons asks are still open (I am, so so sorry if not) but if they are I was wondering if you could do some Pirate Ais Au? >:3 I saw that idea in one of ur other posts and i think the idea is just MUAH MUAH

It could just be general Ais headcanons or X Mc :0 anything with him just being a pirate because bro I just love pirates so much 😭 they are SO COOL and Ais as a pirate captain is just ??? Even better ???

Anyway, I hope you have the best rlly good day 🫶

Pirate Ais AU 🏴‍☠️ Touchstarved

GN reader - no warnings | Yes my asks are still open !!! So happy you liked my idea :') OMG OMG OMG WHERE DO I EVEN START ?!!!!? The brainrot is real and fueling eachother with ideas like that is making it even better (or worse u choose uefgzifguz). As a kid who was obsessed with pirates and a current One Piece fan, your ask is exactly what I needed, thank you so much ♥ This AU is more joyful than what's seen of his canon life so yeah, hope you'll like it ! Okay, ready to sail ? Let's go !

• First : the ✨fashion✨. Ais could be at sea for weeks but would still make sure to look good, real good. I mean look at him ! He even has a pretty hat he wears on special occasions ✧.

• In this AU, Ais has his crew but is still affiliated to Ocudeus. Instead of being the spirit of the Seaspring, Ocudeus is literally the incarnation of the sea depths, a whole big Kraken ! Its energy, force and magic are linked to the abyss.

↑ Ais powers manifest differently here. Instead of seeing through the eyes of others, Ocudeus gave him some sort of marine omniscience. He can use the kraken's senses to a certain limit, a real advantage for navigation. Bro can literally listen through the sea itself if he wills enough :') He must have seen a lot...

• Ocudeus isn't the only spirit of his kind but is genuinely intrigued by mortals. It's not his first time forming a pact with 'lower beings' but Ais is actually one of his favourite holders/vessels so far lmaoezoihf. He kinda cares about the pirate, who's the closest thing he has to a friend.

• His ship is his second home, he takes absolute care of it. If his whole crew has to stay up all night to tidy & wash everything from top to bottom, they will ! And of course, the ship has a japanese name ! Ais named it "Hayai" [速] cause she's the fastest boat you'll ever see (his words not mine). First time you hear him talk about her you're like "...Wait who's Hayai ?" "This big girl over here >:)" and he shows you his amazing ship with a proud smile, which you really weren't expecting !

• Loves, loves, loves to travel ! Any new destination in his adventures is a reason to explore more, search for information and mysteries. He's just so curious about everything :')

• He picks up expressions, phrases and languages from his previous trips ! If he can remember as much as possible, he'll note everything in his log.

→ After every daily island/town tour, he makes sure to write a little about what happened so far. How much they traveled, how much they visited, how much they learned from passengers and citizens.

• Ais originally comes from a village on a small island, lots of yokais live in there as a community.

• He moves a lot but always comes back to his hometown when he can ! He's someone who gets attached and I just know he'd never abandon his little village.

• As a captain, his main role is to make sure everyone's fine. He checks up on his mates whenever he feels something might be wrong. He's got a sort of sixth sense for that... wonder how he got it hm 👀

→ Being the big softie he is, he actually really likes sleeping in the same room as his whole crew instead of his own cabin, he knows they're safe with him so he feels way less stressed. (Would 100% read bedtime stories to the youngest members.)

• His goal isn't even to find treasures or anything, he simply enjoys the freedom of being a pirate, the message behind it and especially the sailor fights !

• Knows how to sword fight and is pretty talented at it ! If you want to learn one or two tricks, he'll teach you >:)

• That man already had the smell of blood, smoke and metal well... in this AU it's even worse ! His smell is so distinctive and strong, anyone could recognize it from miles away.

• Our boy enjoys a good drink, we know that. Almost every night all his gang gather around and share some booze together in a comforting atmosphere, around a small fire. They enjoy the night together while chatting, playing games and much more !

→ Of course they also share tea in daytime when they're not busy navigating or whatsoever.

• Could also fit in general hcs but, his tattoos move or/and glow at specific moments. Sometimes it's like he's bioluminescent, when he goes in water at night, completely in the dark, his skin starts to glow under the moonlight. First time it happened he was so confused zegbkzuhf.

• After his pact with Ocudeus, he started to feel even more at peace when closer to the ocean. If he stays away from shores or marine areas for too long, little oni starts feeling homesick.

• He really appreciates collecting small objects from his travels. His room is full of souvenirs, strange artefacts found in the sand, small treasures, sea shells, cards from around the lands, old books in foreign languages, cultural jewelries offered by locals etc...

• Never really sets up a specific destination, except if he needs to. He loves the adrenaline of finding new places by complete hazard.

• Ais being a pirate who doesn't like seafood, the most accessible food at seas, is well... ironic.

• The sound of seagull chants and waves soothes him. He usually falls asleep on the deck, sunshine on his skin with the sea rocking him gently.

• First time you come to see him, it's one of his crewmate that tells you about him but you don't even know he's a captain ! You see him for the first time and you're just "Helloooo sailor ! How can I join your pirate gang handsome?"🥴

• Every single member is attractive. That's it. It's not the biggest crew really (around 20 people) but the diversity is here. Young ones, old ones, skinny ones, fat ones, pale skin, dark skin, humans, monsters, all the types really. And yes, some tried to woo you (how could they not, MC is 10/10).

• Kids on the ship view you as the cool unty (is that the gn term ?). Ais thinks it's cute except when you start spending more time with them when he originally invited you over…

• And yes, Princess & all his other soulless are here !!! Now they're more some sorta semi marine creatures. They really like to swim and it's the cutest thing :') Like, Ais and his pets swimming in the sea while some are playing in the sand ??? Too cute for me I-

• Talking about our favourite girl, she's the mascot of the crew ! Everyone is so in love with her, she's everyone's precious lil baby (even tho she can and will bite). They'll sometimes try to dress her up to fit their aesthetic and surprisingly she doesn't seem to mind. Also, the sounds she makes are…a mystery !

• Okay but just picture it : Ais hair flowing into the wind while he's watching the horizon, hues of the sea reflecting on his skin looking so peaceful.

• Thinking about his jolly roger, it would be a oni skull surrounded by red eyes with two teal sabers behind (I did a lil sketch hehe) :

• His favourite thing to find are old maps ! Especially if they lead to ancient locations with unchanged names. He has a lot of them and it also might be why he gets into a lot of fights (maps are a treasure themselves so of course people are gonna take risks).

• Even if he's young, he has a big reputation among other pirates. Rule number one : Don't mess with him or his crew. Number two : If you want information there's always a price to pay ! He's nice and generous but hey you know : don't except mercy.

→ Known for his loyalty tho ! If you show that you're worthy of his trust, he'll be your best ally for the rest of your life. He's intimidating but full of qualities.

#touchstarved game #ais #touchstarved ais #touchstarved #ais headcanons #ais x reader #kinda #gn reader #red spring studios #headcanons #touchstarved headcanons #pirate ais au #touchstarved au #answered asks #alternate universe #my aus

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sagau-my-beloved · 1 year

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Just got a little idea while reading that winged reader hcs. Imagine Reader and venti creating a nest built of their random things like ventis Cape Reader hoodie and of course feathers. After days of building the nest, they can finally rest and cuddle in peace. Just make my heart warm <3

🧩 anon

Honestly Venti with avian traits my beloved, I simply think it would be very cute

He's got the big pretty wings, his real form is one that's bird-like, I am 100% down for making him more bird orientated pls

So on that, Venti with heightened senses, Venti having sharper eyesight and a very keen sense of smell that's gotten him out of a lot of trouble

Possessive Venti who needs you to smell like him because he just can't rest unless he knows no one will mistake you as available, even though the logical side of him know that's not quite how humans work

His wings probably shed like crazy too, so Venti sneaking a few feathers in with your belongings as another way of letting everyone know you're his, and of course he'll just gift them to you as well, he likes the idea of having a part of him in your possession and his feathers are just so pretty and soft anyway

And there are some days where he just feels an indescribable need to keep you safe and right next to him, where being apart and knowing you're with other people physically hurts him

Those are the days he goes and finds every soft blanket and pillow in the house and asks you to build a 'fort' with him, which turns more into a large nest like pile where he holds you as close as possible like his life depends on it, whining and fussing whenever you need to get up and away from him, promising that he'll be useful tomorrow if you just indulge him today

It's just so warm and comfortable and you're so soft and nice and he just needs to have you in his arms away from everything else for awhile, he'll even allow his wings to be seen so he can wrap you in them too, you like when he does that right? He's being all vulnerable and exposed just for you, so won't you stay a bit longer?

He's even got snacks prepared and he'll sing to you all you want, you're just so warm and smell so nice he just wants to bury his face in you for a few hours, soaking up all the pleasant feelings you provide from your presence alone

This can manifest itself negatively too though, like if someone were to interrupt you...

His instincts would scream at him to get rid of the offending person, the threat, but he has restraint, he's a God after all

Venti's certainly not going to be nice about it though, that person coming directly into his space that he's created specifically for the two of you without so much as an invitation is rather rude, and if they're looking for you, to take you away—

Venti's done being polite and they're getting a door directly to the face, courtesy of the wind and his annoyance

You're absolutely not going anywhere with anyone else, the fact that anyone think they can simply take you is an insult on an unbelievable scale, he's fully capable of providing you with everything you could need thank you very much, no need for you to see another living breathing person today while he's there to fill all the gaps

But major avian Venti brainrot 👌

#genshin impact #genshin venti #genshin x reader #venti x reader #brainrot #🧩 anon #he's so pretty and cute #i wanna pet his wings so badly #i bet they're so soft

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we-are-inevitable · 1 year

Text

ok so i was talking to @to-be-a-dreamer @tarantulas4davey and @carpe-diem-since-1899 about racetrack things the other day and i just thought i would dump some of those thoughts here bc i am So invested in this weird little guy

anyway i just ,, i have a lot of feelings abt jack passing the newsies onto racer once he ages out.

i feel like. charlie is the next choice, but charlie in my eyes is the same age as- if not older than- jack; if jack hadn’t been the leader of the newsboys, it definitely would have been charlie, but jack is the one who took the reins. (this age hc is mostly because of west endsies ngl.) anyway! moving on

jack and charlie have always been a team. charlie is definitely jack’s second in terms of always being there, but race is his second in terms of business- it only makes sense for race to take over when jack is gone, and i just,, i love the concept of race either not really wanting that or not really knowing how to handle that. i think, at his core, race is trying to hold onto whatever youth he has left. its why he’s always cracking jokes, despite how jaded and angry he is under the surface. he pretends not to care or else he’ll crack under the pressure, and when he cracks, it’s angry. it’s mean. his bark is as bad as his bite. so he puts on this front- this childish, snarky, comedic relief front- and he’s terrified of the implications of Being The Leader because he feels like he’ll no longer have that front to hold onto or hide behind. and it takes him a long time, i think, to realize that he doesn’t have to be exactly who Jack was- he can lead the newsboys how he sees fit, he doesn’t need to be a carbon copy of jack, because they’re fundamentally so different. and i think that is just very fun

but more on the anger, because i think it’s an interesting take that is very much represented in West Endsies- as @roideny and @jack-kellys have pointed out before:

i’m interested in the other newsies- especially albert, finch, and maybe spot- seeing that sadness and strain and anger that seems to be taking it’s place as his dominant trait. yeah. bc i think,, i think race is angry at his core, like i said. angry at his position in all of this. angry that jack left, that charlie followed, that davey was never staying in the first place, that spot still thinks of him as a kid instead of a new leader, that other burrough leaders don’t take him seriously because they know him as the jokester. angry that these kids are his kids now, and angry that his kids are still starving, still walking holes in their shoes, still shivering at night and still dying of sickness when the cold weather hits too hard. i want this race to be fucking pissed and i want everyone else to be caught off guard by it.

because, let’s be real, jack wasn’t the roughest leader. he was strong, and dependable, and not afraid to put kids in their place, but he’s still nurturing and parental. after years of being used to that, i think the newsies would struggle with Race for a while, especially as race tries to figure out his leadership style, and i think a lot of that would manifest in this anger that has been bubbling up under the surface for ages- the anger he never lets anyone see because he doesn’t want that.

race has spent anywhere from 5 to 10 years- depending on when you headcanon him to join the newsies- being the funny guy, the clown, the joker; if he’s going to earn respect, he’s going to have to take it from a few kids. lashing out and being brash- all for the sake of keeping everyone safe, of course- but he’s such a different leader than jack, and i think it would be SO fun to explore that more in post-canon works.

i feel like this post is a little disjointed and i may not be explaining things correctly, plus i haven’t actually seen west endsies yet! a lot of this is based on convos with the besties and i am just having brainrot. besties, feel free to jump in with any additions, and anyone reading this: feel free to send asks or talk in the tags <33

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notknickers · 7 months

Text

tma fears and könig

(i have incorporated my headcanons and my interpretations of könig with this: it's not like we are given much canon material to work with, anyway. just warning about it, because if you see me belabour a point with iron confidence, but cannot place where that came from, the answer is simply "from my head".)

@eyerotyourbrain : the intersection between different types of brainrots that affect the tma girlies (gender neutral) and the cod girlies (also gender neutral) with specific regards to jared hopworth and könig may remain a mystery, but the intersection between könig and the fears isn't anymore. not to me, no sir, it never was!

it has been revealed by yours truly under the cut, if you're still interested.

(i sincerly hope you are, because this thing took me three days!!! 😂)

first, however, mandatory self-identification: i am wholly of the stranger, with just a bit of flesh. it would be nice to know who i am dealing with, in turn.

(please, don't be yet another eyevatar 😭)

the buried: könig is no stranger to poverty and crushing debt, or at least, his younger self was acutely aware of this. squalor, negation and absence were young könig's everyday reality for years. the way it has left a mark is how, once he managed to dig himself out of penury, the toll those years took on him still manifests in his preoccupation with keeping afloat, insisting on living way below his means even though he doesn't need to anymore.

the way this fear manifests in könig is twofold: on the one hand, as stressed by his choice for a job, he will do anything for that paychecque, to keep the money flowing; on the other, the spartan lifestyle free of self-indulgence and frivolity, contrasted by a tendency towards hoarding what few possessions he has, until, one day, perhaps his tower of junk will collapse and bury him whole.

if he were an avatar of the buried, his distinctive feature would be the dirt under his chipped, bloody nails that coats his fingers no matter how many times he washed his hands and a sense of unease and preoccupation he exudes, which turns to crushing despair everytime he stands too close to anyone.

the corruption: still due to the aforementioned poverty, filth was another thing that characterised könig's childhood: rotting food, crawlers and vermin attracted by it, dirty clothes, infrequent grooming and those fleeting moments of joy and distraction, playing with worms in the mud, picking snails after the rain or poking nests with a stick...

not an entirely negative thing, as living communally in barracks with many others, breathing the same air, sharing the same space and learning to be self-sufficient and resourceful while making do with what the military allowed is not for the weak of stomach.

the effects are still visible today, in the man könig has become: the loathing towards filth still manifests in a usually impeccable presentation of his person and his military quarters at the base, an exemplar of order, tidiness and cleanliness.

only for könig to fall into utter disrepair the moment in between deployments, when he is in his small, claustrophobic flat, full of hoarded possessions untidily piled in every corner, with countless roaches and other bugs raising generations of egg spawns, a mould-infested shower he rarely uses, as he barely keeps himself clean, and also infesting other fixtures in both loo and kitchen, such as sink and fridge. the squalor from which he fought so hard to escape always claims könig, drags him back in its unsanitary clutches the moment no one is looking.

however, the real mark the corruption left is könig's tendency towards obsession. if the somewhat unhealthy relationship he has with his job were not enough to show this, paying attention to the way he conducts his interpersonal relationships will.

even here, the ways he behaves are very disconnected, going from keeping to himself for fear of ceding to his instincts, to obsessing over a friendship or romantic relationship to the point of stalking - breaking and entering without a sign (unless he wants to leave one) is a joke for someone of his skills.

he is deathly afraid of abandonment, a thing that might come across as surprising, considering how independent and self-reliant könig is. but once he finds the unconditional care and the gentle love he craves, even the threat of that being taken from him affects him deeply and has him behaving irrationally. not overtly violently, as he worships his lovers with all of himself as the loyal puppy he is, but he will beg and cry not to be abandoned, clinging to that person both bodily and metaphorically for all his emotional needs. if that fails, that's when he will start imposing his presence where he is not wanted, until he finds a way to let go and disappear for another long bout of being on his own, lest his worst, most needy traits come out again.

love of any kind has been so scarce in his life, when it takes hold of him, it's like a parasite planting its roots in his flesh and sapping him of all sense as it grows and grows, leaving könig a pliant, clingy, but unpredictable husk.

if he were an avatar of the corruption, his eyes would always be bloodshot and his sclera an unhealthy, yellowish hue.

the dark: brackish water, when unpaid bills led to cut utilities but thirst hit all the same, is nothing könig did not already experience. and survived.

neither is the darkness of the wardrobe könig's parents confined him in as a child when they decided he was being too much, adding hours for every whimper and sob they heard coming from it, then, often, forgetting and just leaving him in there until little könig took it upon himself to risk further punishment by breaking out.

wardrobes, lockers, niches of every kind... places of fear and torture that, with time, turned to comfort and solace. somewhere könig could hide from shouting and bullying, find the peace and quiet he needed. the shroud of darkness as a mother's caress.

now, as a grown man, (besides the occasional pang of horror a flashback brings along, pulling him back in that wardrobe) fear of the dark is the furthest thing from his mind. dark is a friend, a cherished companion.

whoever tries to use it to their advantage against könig should be more afraid for their lives, than the other way around.

if könig were an avatar of the dark he would envelope his chosen victims in sightless, feelings-less darkness out of mercy, hoping for them to tap into their inner strengths and emerge more resilient.

in his spare time, he would totally hang out with the sandman and the beast that killed robert montauk.

the desolation: under the detached, composed, even careful exterior to the point of avoidance, something burns, powerful enough to scorch the earth all around and ensure nothing ever grows again.

for könig, this rage and resentment found the constricting touch of discipline in the army, at first, and in the years that bring calm in hindsight.

yet, subdued at great cost though it may be, that voracious flame still hungers and finds release on the battlefield, where, as far as könig is concerned, anything is allowed.

he knows the fire is as dangerous to his targets as it is to him and he is not afraid. one day, that terrible heat will turn inwards and engulf him whole in self-immolation and he won't return.

if könig were an avatar of the desolation, he would be driven less by spite, than need. but he would make for quite the herald of self/destruction for self/destruction's sake all the same.

the end: it's not that hard to believe that könig, still in his prime, is actually rather surprised to still be alive. between parental abuse and bullying that earned him the kinds of beltings and beatings he thought would kill him as he endured and all the hell he has been through as a soldier, not to mention the kind of health issues that come with his size), he hasn't known a moment in which he hasn't felt like he was on borrowed time.

like the clock meant to measure his life broke and when he didn't simply ceased, a rather different one with impossible hours took over and when its invisible hands join on the designated sign one last time, he will be no more.

if he were an avatar of the end, that pocket watch would be his artefact and he would use it to those who call to him, knowingly or not. in the meantime, he will have to settle with sending as many lives to crush through the end line with more mundane means, but with the same zeal as the most devoted acolyte.

may every life he takes fuel his own, instead of consuming him more.

the eye: quiet and unseen. that is what avoiding to make himself a target has always entailed. failure still marrs his face and body in hideous, disfiguring scars. making noise, being noticed at the wrong moment - which, it seems, for young könig the moment was never right - has never paid.

but to avoid something, one has to know it well and that is what könig perfected: knowing, learning, observing, hiding.

just because he doesn't always hold the gaze of his interlocutors, or his eyes wander while he speaks or listens, it does not mean he isn't paying attention to every word, every detail. and when you turn away, you will find his eyes boring holes through you, going through every piece and scrap of information he has at disposal to assemble and make sense.

and with his education being spotty, as his formative years were spent surviving, observing as learning has been an invaluable tool. a testament to it, his being a highly valued asset.

if he were an avatar of the eye, the fear that unkind eyes might once more lay on him would be driven to full-on paranoia of being watched and known and bared open and he would do anything to prevent that. he would probably be a very violent avatar who would soon leave the eye for something that better suits his need for protection, as his mind just couldn't take it.

the flesh: what hasn't this man's flesh known? perhaps gentleness, something he could use more of, something he certainly longs for.

it has known brutality, of which it still bears the marks.

it has known change, as the beastly god in man form könig is now was once rather different. a memory of a softer, scrawnier, gentler past self he keeps locked, clinging to it as he rejects and hides from it.

it has known the harrowing of being remade anew, whilst still being trapped in its confining form, the form of what he was and, in part, will always be.

if to tom haan meat is me, to könig, meat is weapon and barrier, honed and perfected to its use and through its use.

if könig were an avatar of the flesh, he would be too busy having nasty, disgusting, bloody sex with jared hopworth in my fics, for him to have time for anything else. sorry not sorry.

the hunt: for someone who spent years of his life being prey, only two choices were available: surrender to death, or upgrade to hunter. könig is still alive, so you know what choice he made.

studying his targets, learning their habits, navigating their environment, calculating escape routes to bar or exploit, forcing to a corner... that's a huge part of his job.

and the killing, of course.

the beast in him is there, pulling, tearing, stirring, wanting out. and it does come out. merciless, ravenous, bloodthirsty. once it smells blood, that part of hunting that is all about patience, strategy and calculation is eclipsed and the berserker beast takes over, dipping claws in eyesockets, tearing limbs from cores, digging in viscera and delighting in the screams.

feeding. filling. quenching.

until next time.

if könig were an avatar of the hunt... who's to say he isn't already? one thing is certain, however: he will never be prey again.

(although, care to sink your teeth in monster!könig? brave - or lustful - enough to let him do the same with you...?)

the lonely: isolation to the point of alienation.

from being denied counting on anyone but himself, to dedicating his existence towards never needing anyone and engaging fully with his killing business, the only place that exists for him in civil society is the one he carves with bloody claws... and, by now, the interest wanes more than it waxes.

he has been forsaken too many times. betrayed by those supposed to love him and barely given a chance to love the company of any, after that.

a little, unchoked spark for connection still exists there, but it's only a matter of time until it won't anymore. still, how nice it would be if it manifested... perhaps, in the solitude of his mind, he even dreams about it and the many forms it could take. perhaps he is not so far gone. yet.

would it even be possible, now, when avoidance and compartmentalising are all he has known?

if könig were an avatar of the lonely, i don' tknow that he would much care for peter lukas and his ilk...

the slaughter: how do you feel about those scenes of extreme, brutal, senseless violence set to brautiful, haunting and entirely out-of-place music? because i think that's what könig sees and hears when all that makes him human, all that makes him who he is has shrunk so far, deep inside that all is left is an amorphous amalgam of pure... what can you even call that?

the broken child is gone, so is the reserved, quiet man. no trace of the disciplined and strategically adept colonel.

yet, something that holds all three in spirit and shows all through könig's untamed and implacable, instinctual frenzy. second nature.

and it's music and movement and dancing to that gory tune that drowns out all but the screams and tender flesh turning to wet pulp, and he knows the everchanging steps by heart.

if könig were an avatar of the slaughter, he would long to hear the piper one last time, only to be denied.

the spiral: könig has stopped being afraid of losing his mind because he knows he went mad long ago. whatever emerged is what is left. what will always be.

one thing he does not fear and trusts unconditionally are his thoughts and his senses, however. himself. that self he has earned at such high cost. whatever his self might be. what is a self, after all, if not a reflection on the mirror of circumstances?

no matter. whoever he is, he knows he can confide in. at least, on the well-navigated path of war-making. as for less certain terrrains...

but that is enough.

if könig were of the spiral, i don't think he would be aware of his... d̸̡̯̼̗̦͓̹̝̖̫͛̍̽̀͌̇͘͘͝ì̶̛͖̞̯̠̟̥͉̺̈̑̾̒͂͝ͅs̵̨͓̲̮̳̖̣͈͑̾t̷͙͈͍͌̅̾͛̔̌̚̕͝͝ŏ̷̱͔̱̱̜̗͒ͅŕ̷̟̬͊̒͂̇͐͒́t̶̨͎͊͋̄͛̈̀̚͠͝i̷̛̠̗̯̾̽̅̾̽̕͘̚͝o̷͎̞͉̺̝̍͐̐̊͘n̷̢̩͉̥͕͓͈͈̳̽̀̐͜

the stranger: who's to say who lies under that mask? he must be human, of that you are sure. what else, otherwise? yet, how many have had the chance to make sure?

how many masks would they have to lift, before finding something at least resembling the expected? and would that be him? the real him? are you sure?

inhuman proportions. inhuman temperament. always hiding in plain sight.

at least from a distance, as, sometimes by choice, sometimes by necessity, unknown is all he really will ever be to most.

if something took his place, could you really tell? would you even care?

one thing is sure: he could teach you the insides, if you were willing to learn. but would you like that?

if könig were of the stranger, the entity known as Ⴆɾҽҽƙσɳ αɳԃ ԋσρҽ would instead be known as ɮʀɛɛӄօռ ǟռɖ ɦօքɛ ǟռɖ ӄöռɨɢ. nothing would be different, otherwise.

(would love to see the ragtag team of institute assistants and avatars of the slaughter try stopping another unknowing. we would all be nameless dolls. no doubt about that.)

the vast: if there is someone aware of his insignificance, that is könig. when you scream loud and often enough, but no one comes, it is easy to get the message and surrender to how obvious it is that you don't count. something he seems to have accepted. a pawn in a bigger game that he is willing to be part of, as long as he is rewarded for it.

if war doesn't kill him, the uncaring universe will and he has made peace with that fact a long time ago.

until then, he'd rather avoid open, unending spaces that leave him vulnerable in conflict. cramped, tight quarters are always preferable.

if he were an avatar of the vast, he wouldn't be able to stand simon and his carefree, playful attitude. give könig a couple of centuries and he might reconsider.

alternatively, he would be the titan in fallen titan.

the web: hm, the mother... könig sure loves whimpering for his mummy with tears streaming down his cheeks and desperation in his eyes, if you catch him at the right moment.

(at least, when i'm writing him, he does... >.>)

otherwise, growing up the way he did, könig probably developed a natural aversion towards scheming, even when lies to protect himself were his only, often unsuccsessful, option.

being averse to schemes is not the same as being incapable of recognising them. but, at some point, anything can look like one and isolation becomes the only defence.

unless the scheme is grand enough that playing his role in it will benefit him more than it doesn't. for the right pay and a chance to walk away when he wants, there isn't much the man won't do.

if könig were chosen by the web... he would finish what was started and bash annabelle's skull in once and for all.

the extinction: what horrific creatures humans could one day become has always been under the surface and könig knew it in the past, as much as he sees it now, in what he does, how he does it and how other mirror his actions without regrets.

technology only makes it easier, but it's a tool in greedy hands. whatever animates those hands has always been there.

and the military has taken ample advantage of it: advances in media technology, for better means of propaganda, advances in weaponry, from the atomic bomb to drones, to make killing many as easy as pressing a button: no boots on ground needed.

this man clad in kevlar like second skin knows it well: he is part of it and has no strong feelings either way and no intention of quitting.

distopia is now, luv, and it makes. him. hard!

factions rising, factions falling. faces changing, but their spirit always the same and könig will be alongside them, exacting his pound... or his euro, his dollar, his ruble, his yen, his bitcoin, his ethereum...

he is prepared. he will survive and he will thrive and then he'll cease and nothing will matter anymore.

fatten his bank account, pump him full of secret military drugs and point him in the right direction. that's all he knows. that's all he asks.

if könig were an agent of the extinction, he would enjoy bringing about annihilation quite a lot.

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