ウロボロス

unaffiliated  canon/oc  multi account. featuring characters from:  chainsaw  man,  jujutsu kaisen,  one  piece,  &  more.

                    “ huh. thought you were the brainy one, aizawa-san. i can keep wracking my brain for an answer, however, if needed… ”

               resolve brought men to accomplish their goals, but most times, it did nothing but speed up the inevitability of their untimely demise. perhaps worry coated her tongue as she spoke, perhaps it was some sort of faux sense of nostalgia, but as she looked at her old partner’s rugged, quanxi couldn’t help but want to see him survive for as long as he possibly could. for old time’s sake, at the very least. she owed him that much.

               “ … i’ll give you the benefit of the doubt on that one. ”     humans were frail little things, they broke easily, they bled, grew old… and as much as she wanted to believe him to be different, the hitman knew damn well that even the number one was at the end of his rope. sooner than later, he had to throw in the towel. the question was just: when? hardened fingertips press against the hot ceramic of the mug sat in front of her, when the note catches her attention. seemed like the sly old dog still had a couple of tricks up his sleeve. digits gently peel the paper away from the other, slowly quickly scanning through the page, while keeping up the conversation. if makima was listening in, they might as well keep up the ruse.     “ these girls are my life, kishibe. it’s not about sex. it’s about love. maybe some day, you’ll find out what that word means. ”

             “ maybe you’re right, ” kishibe mutters ( shorthanded for the unspoken continuation ‘ or perhaps not ’ ) obviously taken aback by the shift in his former partner’s poise. to some extent, thinking of quanxi’s development brings a bitter taste in the back of his throat. she’s always outlived him in numerous regards: and even now, the same old pattern applies. she’s managed to move on, live her life and live beyond the role of a devil hunter. it’s not envy that makes him reticent and aversive towards her words, but a misplaced feeling of longing.

though it was plain as day that  gojo  satoru  would have yaga’s hands full  regardless  of his temperament,   it didn’t  help  that on top of his uncontainable strength and superiority complex he  couldn’t  seem  to  stay  out  of  trouble.     much to his teacher’s probable contempt,   suguru and shouko were just as terrible when it came to  behaving   (   though shouko  always  managed to escape punishment  ).     but he’d really done it this time:   he and suguru had stolen one of the school cars and gone to a bar,     and he doesn’t know  how  yaga caught them,   but he can figure out the details when he’s  not  being shaken by his collar like a rag doll.     still,   it wouldn’t be  classic  satoru  if he didn’t try to weasel his way out of it despite every odd being against his favor.     had he any self preservation,   he would come clean.

but this will be the  perfect  way  to show his new boyfriend how capable he is!

❛     —– ahhh,   yaga - sensei,   don’t you think me and suguru are better than that?   stealing a car?     i don’t even know how to drive,   sensei!     plus,   i’d never drink underage!    ❜      a fatal mistake:   no  one  even  mentioned  a  bar.

             it takes him some time to process the gravity of the situation. as if unaware of the contingencies at play, satoru decides to try to deceive him further. to no avail, however. masamichi’s immediate concern is no longer applying punishment, but discovering the true details of the violation. while he clenching his teeth, he barely manages to contain himself enough not to shake satoru after hearing the infuriating detail he’d been unaware of.  “ what!? a bar? do you know how much trouble you two could have gotten in? ” he poises the question as if unaware, expecting little feedback.

atsuya kusakabe

like you can love again

you need to be loved in a way that shows you love is sacred, it is divine. you need to be loved so purely, so lightly, so you can learn to love. you need to be loved in the way oceans rise, but also fall. you need to be loved in the way wind rushes through leaves. you need to be loved gently, and patiently, and understanding. you need to be loved in a way that even if you cannot love, you will still be loved.

kishibe

like the snow melts

you need to be loved patiently. you need to feel the love slowly creeping in, a warning, a way to back away if you’re too scared. you need to be loved cautiously, as if you’re fragile. you need to be loved gently, because love is messy and muddy and makes your socks wet and hurts if the sun gets too close. but you need to let yourself be loved, because when you do, it’ll feel like spring.

coyote starrk

like lovers watching the sunset

calm, focused, tender. you need to be loved in the way teenagers kiss in the rain and giggle behind hands. you need to be loved like a child, taken care of, watched over, focused on. you need to feel the warmth of the sun, you need to feel the love rushing through your veins. you need to be reminded that love is worth it, and it’s beautiful to experience. you need to be loved in a way that is refreshing, again and again.

yaga masamichi

like a child loves the rain

you need to be loved in happiness and foolishness. a puppy love, a love so purely good, so full of happiness it makes your stomach ache. you need to be loved in a way that reminds you of the childhood you didn’t get to have. you need to be loved as if you’re feeling the rain fall upon your cheeks for the first time. refreshing, and clean.

                    if she could, she’d be chuckling right about now. nobu’s always been like this, deadset on something, a one-trick mind of a man, and like a horse wearing blinders, he could only see what was in front of him: their objective, or what he carelessly, and perhaps a bit cockily, referred to as glory. her tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth, her hands tucked away in the front pockets of her hoodie. she’s quiet, as always. it might come as no surprise to the other, the way she stares at the ground she walks on, the flickering streetlights above them putting on a fleeting show of shadow and light for them both to enjoy.

                    “ … ”     she looks up at him for a second, before using the tip of her (much too big for her) sneakers to kick a small, pointy pebble his way, tight-lipped and unimpressed.     “ mh, yeah, you’d be the type of guy to think that’s a cool thing to say, wouldn’t you, nobuyashi-san. ”     it’s right then and there that she proceeds to stick her tongue out at him, and tug at his sleeve in the same breath. she lets her eyes do the talking. come on, she says, i’m hungry, she continues. and so does the tugging.

@senringan​ said:     we walk towards glory.

             although seemingly uninterested ( and perhaps too detached from their surroundings ), nobuyashi is trying to concentrate: focus his remaining energy onto the upcoming confrontation. caught up in his personal affairs, he almost omits akane’s presence. they’d been walking for some time now, the spectacle of lights flickering having him almost unnerved. not because he’s afraid of battle, but because nowadays his patience seems to be stretched thin by the most mundane of occurrences. he deems pandering futile and blames it all on the devil fighting his human psyche. interrupted by a sudden intrusion ( the smallest bead of gravel left from a decrepit building kicked in his direction ), he snaps back to reality. 

           there are pleas for help,   and then there’s this.   Protecting family is a noble goal and though it isn’t one that  immediately  sways Benimaru’s heart into compliance,   it does enough to lower his defenses.   There’s a kinder air to him now,   a nigh - imperceptible shift in his disposition that he makes  sure  to broadcast.   He’d be lying if he said that a missing Yaga with death at his neck didn’t worry him.  [ Hibachi spoke well of the man,   even if it was around angry puffs of smoke from his kiseru than anything else;   Benimaru remembers that much. ]   He clicks his tongue.   “ Sit down.   You look on the verge of collapsing and I won’t be accused of  mistreating  Tokyo Tech staff at my very own doorstep. ”

         “ So, ”   he continues after a moment’s  silence,   “ tell me about them.  There may be something I can do to help. ”

            “ thanks. ” as offered, atsuya follows benimaru’s lead, seating himself somewhere adjacent to his interlocutor. distressed, he bites his lip, the words he wishes to speak lodging in his chest perhaps too strongly. after going pensive for a few seconds, he finally musters up enough courage to elaborate his situation.  “ if i’m honest, ” he mutters, his hand that’d been idle until not long ago now carding through the strands at the back of his head. he “ i don’t even know where to start. ”

          Among the Devil Hunters he considered himself one of the strongest?  What a lackluster thing to say   -   to make specific.  Makima hadn’t asked about what he thought of his rank,  of what he thought of his abilities…  she wanted to know if  he  was strong or weak.  What he considered himself to be.  She watches with unwavering gaze as he reaches into the confines of his jacket.  As he pulls out his flask.  As he decides whether or not to take a drink.  Perhaps that was a good enough answer for her to receive.  He was decidedly weak.  What human or devil could be blamed for such a thing though?  Nature was nature.

          “Content you say?”  She murmurs,  a thoughtful look overtaking her features.  Thoughtful for his sake at least.  He might not have known it but she was far from content.  There was a gnawing sensation Makima could not rid herself of,  not yet at least.  She was patient though,  she could wait until  that day  came.  “I think as Devil Hunters we have much to do before one could claim contentment.”

          She gives idle pause,  the fabricated smile gone and nothing is left to replace it.  “Will you live long enough to be content?”

            makima’s petrifying gaze is more than enough to make him flinch on unprepared heels. the ways in which she spews her venom is delicate, soft. had he not been aware of her schemes, perhaps kishibe too, would have fallen prey to her gimmicks. he feigns nonchalance, remaining attentive to each quirk of her lips. each smile can be decoded into a different intention, into a different message. despite being a puppeteer of her caliber, her strings have yet to latch onto him. “ i’d be lucky enough to live another day. you know how it is with us devil hunters, our lives are nothing short of unpredictable. ”

unlike aizawa, laxus already figured their target is here. his high sense of smell already gave him what he needed to know. he didn’t miss what the other said, how could he when his ears pick up every noise as they became quite sensitive to noise but also his sense of hearing is also heightened. “sadly i’m not one to play the game of waiting…” always the kind of charging forward. there’s no time to lose and he rather move than just laying there and wait.

when he heard the target coming closer, laxus is just as ready as his companion is. fist lights up with lightning and before one knows it, laxus disappears fast as he goes straight to the enemy.

              while his reflexes are hone enough to react almost instantaneously to the incoming assault, with haste, laxus disallows him from taking action. still prepared, with feet planted profoundly into the asphalt, his stance shifts back into something more lax. eraserhead’s shoulders fold inward, and he allows himself to breathe relievedly when his comrade seizes the enemy. 

               hand comes to form a v under his chin, brows cocked and tone pitched high enough to sound like a convincing enough parody of himself.     “ well, one would hope that you were following me for somethin’ other than my dashing good looks, ray.~ ”     it’s another heartfelt attempt at seeing the other smile, as he sways alongside him as they walked down the deck, headed towards the dining hall of the oro jackson. however, their shared laughter comes to a full stop the moment the dark king mentions the fishing pole problems.     “ that so? well, i didn’t give ‘em any money after they spent their entire allowance on trinkets and baubles last month… ”     they both end up scratching their chin at the sky, trying to come up with an answer for this dilemma.     “ waitaminute… where ARE they now? ”

             “ well, one should keep on hoping, roger. . . ” he teases, cocky and ever so sly, the quirk of his brows mirroring his self-assured attitude perfectly. however, the facade soon goes awry: his expression shifts from joy to concern, and while they’re facing one another, dumbfounded to the very core, the realization dawns upon one at a time. rayleigh figures it out sooner, and although he wishes to elucidate the dilemma, all he can do is fake a distressed smile while the arm that’d been resting upon roger’s shoulder slowly retreats to the back of his own head. he scratches the nape of his neck, still wordless, still bothered that they have omitted such an important aspect.

Violence let out a light laugh as he heard the other’s comment about his non-violent nature This isn’t the first time someone noted how contrasting his devil is in comparison to his usual more amiable self. Not that he’s sick of explaining, quite the contrary, he has always enjoyed seeing people notice how different he is from his devil self, made him feel a bit more human. 

“ Yeah, I’ve been told that I’m not what most people expect. ” Violence went straight to the fridge, shuffling through the items within it to find said OJ for the stern male. “ Probably because most of the human’s brains were intact when I possessed this body, so we kind of got our identities meshed together. ” 

Violence finally grabbed a box of orange juice and filled a glass cup that was drying up next to the sink. “ I’m not really the person who used to be in this body, but… I guess you could say that the guy rubbed off on me, like… my entire identity. ” 

“ So yeah, I’m more of a peace kind of guy. ” He casually offered the other the glass of orange juice, though it was impossible to tell, the fiend had a friendly smile behind the plague doctor mask. “ Honestly, I’m more impressed by the fact you’re so affable. I heard hybrids have a tendency to lose a bit of their humanity, and since you’re a mafia guy, I figured there wasn’t much humanity there in the first place, um… no offense… ”

            the explanation leaves him dissatisfied. prying’s never been his forte, but in this case, he thinks of stirring the pot. thinks of pushing violence slightly further than anyone else would. still inquisitive in nature, as his devil has yet to affect that part of his former self, he decides that a test of humanity would be in order. he wants to see just how far violence can take this charade. outstretching an arm, he takes accepts the item and takes it to his mouth, his wicked gaze hinting at a diabolical smile beneath the rim of his glass. “ and which side’s winning? you don’t mean to tell me one part doesn’t overpower the other. ”

            after taking a sip, the bitter rind of pulp perhaps too rich for his tastes, he scrunches his nose in visible displeasure. the devil sets the glass onto the rightmost side table, and immediately after he lolls his shoulders into the mattress. violence’s observation has his jaws clench. “ the hell is that supposed to mean? ”

@senringan​ asked: ’ don’t expose yourself to danger. you never know what slums the enemy might lie in. ’ (aizawa, laxus)

UNPROMPTED ASKS - ACCEPTING

“and what you want me to do? hide?” he scoffs. “that sounds like coward talk to me.” then he shrugs. “i have high senses. nothing escapes me so is not like anyone has managed to surprise me.” but he knows the man will be too stubborn and scold him. “fine, i’ll take your word… at least.”

@senringan​ // CROCODILE : ’ your title doesn’t seem to have changed you in the slightest. ‘ 

A grin spreads across his face and he lifts his eyes to glance up at the taller man. “I really hope you weren’t expecting it to.” Lips press together in thought for a moment, wiping the grin from his face, and Shanks rolls his eyes with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You know I’d never ask for the damn thing, they just handed it over. Was a shock to me when I read the paper that day. –You’d think they’d want to discuss it or something.”

He recalled it well–not that it had happened all that long ago. In truth, he wasn’t entirely sure that the title wasn’t given to him in hopes that someone would finally come along and end him.

Hoots and hollers from crew members, laughing (at his expense, he was still sure), knowing that being named an Emperor of the Sea, alongside the pirates who had been sailing the seas since before he had even been born, had never been anywhere in his plan.

Maybe he should have planned better? …Nah.

Plan or not, the title had changed things for him and his crew, but Shanks was good at taking things as they came and luckily the people he surrounded himself with were much of the same. Perhaps from years of having to put up with him. “But who cares about all of that!?”

The grin is back, though it hardly stayed gone for long. “You know, I am just thrilled to see that Impel Down didn’t break your spirit,” he teases, chuckling, as though he’d told a joke. His grin grows. “I hear some rookie put you in your place. That must’ve been embarrassing for you.”

            ‘ how modest, ’ his rich baritone brims with sarcasm, and shanks’ noncommittal attitude almost has crocodile rolling his eyes. the encounter had been anything but planned, but crocodile would be lying if he claimed that he wasn’t somewhat thankful for the yonko’s sudden intrusion ( as he’d interfered right before his crew was about to fall victim to yet another ambush ). to some extent, he can say that his concerns have been assuaged. the crew members seem to bear no ill intent, so he loosens up some, allowing his shoulders to slump downward ever so lightly. with his hand, he slicks back his hair before following shanks to the table, where he hopes they can continue conversing more privately.

             once he’s seated, the stool barely supporting his weight, crocodile’s brows crack, shanks’ observation perhaps striking soft a chord. ‘ i wouldn’t let something that insignificant get to me. i’ve been through hell and worse, impel down was nothing compared. ’ he explains, his tone uncharacteristically complacent. his teeth clamp down onto his cigar, his chagrin slightly more visible now. ‘ laugh while you can, that rookie will soon come for your head too, red-hair, ’ his voice remains firm, rough and uptight, but lacking the usual bite of a proper threat.

              a dense cloud of smoke billows from his mouth, and it’s then that he finally grabs onto the pint he’s been offered not long ago. without glancing askance, he continues examining shanks, the hint of expectance dancing in the grey of his eyes almost having the former warlord nervous. unaware of the yonko’s intention, crocodile sets the jug back onto the table, propping himself against the chair’s backrest, regal, as he normally does. silence befalls them, and it takes him some time to muster up the appropriate amount of determination in order to offer shanks his well-deserved recognition. after all, he had rescued both him and his crew.