#(cause the whole Not Remembering The Battles thing)

[deviousgoat]

My honest opinion on the WWDITS finale (yes I know it’s late but hear me out through my tedious essay on this.)

It genuinely suffered from bad writing. This final season had so much potential to be great much like the ones that came before, but it absolutely flunked on it. Everything else in this season had great quirky; the costumes, the lighting, and the set. But as the season’s writing was truly introduced, I noticed it didn’t really have that same atmosphere anymore. The jokes felt stale and too planned, while others seemed to appear out of nowhere and cause chaos for the storyline. Jerry and the monster were a good add-in joke, and introducing Laszlo’s father aswell was great. But how these characters were entered left a huge writing problem. They created a huge Checkov’s (I think that’s how you spell it?) gun. They introduced huge plot point’s that could’ve been executed carefully enough to be reasonable with the audience. And there are a couple I’d like to name.

Sean’s death; throughout season 6 we hear about Sean having a huge decline in his mental and physical health. This is present through his two heart attacks, being fired from his job, and seeming incapable, of much. But when it came to a point where people began to worry about Sean’s health and such, his last scene is him talking about the people who have pissed in his toilets. It’s very on cue for Sean… but it feels wrong. How Sean is so carefully cured to die, then they just drop it.

Nandermo; Nandermo has been an ongoing thing since the start of the series. A ship between Nandor and Guillermo where one finds themselves in pure love while the other refuses to admit their feelings and kinda just complains. It’s a very popular ship dynamic in communities and I feel WWDITS is no different. But for the final scene of them together, it expands on more plot points instead of answering them. Will they be lovers? Or just friends? Or will they grow to hate each other? None of it is answered. We just get them sitting in a coffin together and falling down a big ass hole.

Rodrick Cravensworth (I don’t know if that’s properly spelt but oh well.); Lord Rodrick Cravensworth was an ASS of a character. The writing for him was great, and his story tells us so much of Laszlo’s childhood. He’s really meant to agitate you through the screen, and does so wonderfully. But yet, in his finale scene we only see him being locked up in a safe with a funko pop that looks exactly like him. I see this as a huge plot point that shouldn’t have been left out so easily. If they decide in 1, 2, 5, 10, 15 or beyond years to do another movie about our favourite vampires from Staten Island, it should include Rodrick again, just for closer. (If he possessed the doll and broke out of the safe or some shit.)

Dadzlo; Dadzlo is a word used by fans in the WWDITS community to assess Laszlo’s time as a father for Colin Robinson. This was a huge plot point in WWDITS season 4, but is never really expanded on since then (Other than the brief mentions of it.) But when we s6 (ep6? I can’t remember) We see more hints and mentions of the two. This whole thing is a huge mess of a plot. Colin refusing to acknowledge that Laszlo raised him, while Laz is left tormented by his inner turmoil. This whole thing was left unresolved, which left it to only be a couple-line joke mostly. I hate this because I personally enjoyed Dadzlo a lot in the season and was disappointed without the denouement of it.

Nadja’s lack of positive female interaction; Nadja is Pansexual, we’re all aware of that. But throughout the entirety of WWDITS we almost never see her have a positive female interaction (other than Jenna, and even then it was pretty bad.) Why haven’t we seen her ever have any interest in another female character? It’s a horrid battle of bad writing and fear. A popular ship, Ladja, romanticizes Nadja and The Guide together. I personally like this ship, showing how Nadja and the guide SHOULD’VE needed up instead of being a one-sided friendship. But it actually pisses me off to see that yet again, their just in a crush x “who the hell are you?” kind of relationship.

The finale; writing this in general just makes my blood actually fucking boil. The season was so bad, and how they ended it was even worse. No tying of lose ends, no use of Checkov’s gun, and not even a resolve to ships. The episode was mainly Guillermo centred, which is kinda boring. There are plenty of episodes already within the series that have Guillermo in every plot line, and having the finale be one of those was horrid. The other characters within the finale felt more like props instead of supporting characters. And of course we had “We’ll meet again” as the song to end it off. I’m not saying it’s a bad song, I’m just saying it’s overused in media. A lot of endings in television shows from what I’ve seen include that song, a very notable one being Gravity falls. I know it’s hard to find appropriate music for the ending of a series, but do I really have to hear that same one over, and over, and over? Like, grab Al Bowley’s “Heartaches” or something but just find something original.

I’m super pissed about this, and I could go on and on about the things I hated about this series finale, but I’m just going to let you guys get a taste of how much I hated s6

Like, god how hard is it to write an ending? Do the fans have to do it all themselves? The whole point of a proper ending is to find a way that makes most of the fans of it happy, not suffocating us with bad writing. I hate what they’ve done to this television show, I really do.

I hope you enjoyed my energy vampire-like rant. Now goodnight :3

[sesamenom]

maglor's first time getting to go to a concert / his favorite singer attending maglor's first big concert

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

I can't stop thinking about how does between even work in Dragonriders of Pern. Like, it's a completely empty void, with no air, no light, no sound, and extremely cold. But how cold? Is it at absolute zero? Luckily the absence of air would protect you from freezing immediately, but still. Also, if there is no air, shouldn't the atmospheric pressure between be drastically different from that on Pern? The human body can survive in vacuum for minutes and remain conscious for about 10 seconds, but riders should suffer some effects, no? And how does going between even work, is it like a portal or do you get moved atom by atom Star Trek style? How does it affect the world around you, do you leave empty space where you left? (@ranticore went that route in their fic I think). Shouldn't going between cause noise?

Just. How does that thing work

[bambino1294]

it’s been an embarrassingly long time but I think I’m gonna pick up my first watch of Merlin again soon cause I got halfway through Season 2 before shit got busy irl.

but now I’m also desperately trying to remember the details of the AU plot I was telling to Emi that included, like, Arthur discovering Merlin’s magic at the end of either season 1 or season 2 (I can’t remember 💔), but Merlin doesn’t know he knows, and then he spends the whole next season agonising over whether he’d tell Uther or not/confront Merlin or not.

[i-love-ptv]

Playing Dangerous ཐི♡̵̼͓̥͒̾͘ཋྀ

Pairing: Police Officer!Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Girlfriend!Reader

You get pulled over by the police, but the officer just so happens to be your boyfriend. Will he let you off with just a warning? Part.2!

Wc: 1,822

SMUT (nothing crazy, just a steaming hot blowjob ;)) + winks of fluff

Hi guys!!! Uhm sorry I didn’t get a whole bunch out during October, I had lots of shit going on I fear…So take this as an apology lol. Also I have a (late) halloween fic coming out soon so stay tuned ;)

Feedback is always appreciated! xx

You hear the sirens chirp, and you take a glance at the rear view mirror, that’s when you see the police car riding your tail. You sigh due to the fact that you’re the only car on this road, and begin to pull over.

Were you going over the speed limit? No, you couldn’t possibly be doing so, you always remained cautious on the road.

Your hands rest idly on the steering wheel as you listen to the sound of boots getting closer. Your window is down, making the chilled night air kiss your skin.

The air is filled with cologne that rings familiar; you see his arms resting inside your car window first, the tattoo of your name staring right back at you.

You’re met with none other than your boyfriend, Rafe. He ducks down so his bright crystal-colored eyes are leveled with yours.

“Awfully late to be driving around here, huh Peach?” Rafe teases you with a smirk.

“I was just finishing my errands, Ray. And you scared me! I thought I was actually in trouble!” You try to keep the scowl on your face, but the more you stare at him, the more your face cracks into a smile.

Rafe quirks a brow at you after he takes a few seconds to assess you. “Who said you’re not in trouble? You’re driving without your glasses on, baby.”

You roll your eyes, “You couldn’t have possibly known I wasn’t wearing my glasses when you were behind me,” you replied.

“And besides, you act like I can’t see without them at all.”

Rafe tuts at your comment, “Thought it's already been established that you gotta wear ‘em when you drive, you not following orders now?” His smirk grows all the wider as he takes in your smaller frame.

You bite your lip and gaze at him, “Oh, well everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

“Yeah? ‘Cause I don’t think a good girl would break the rules, hm?” Rafe’s face is inching towards yours, slowly leaning more and more into your car.

You pout, feigning innocence, “I wouldn’t do a thing like that, that’s for sure.” Your lips part, going to leave a steamy kiss to the officer’s rosy, yet somewhat chapped lips, but he pulls away slightly, leaving you gaping with glossy eyes.

“I dunno…Think you should step out for a second, sweetheart. Y’know, just to follow protocol.” He whispers hotly against your ear, making your panties dampen.

You quickly exit your car, and as soon as you close the door, Rafe’s pressing you into it.

“I think you deserve a ticket, Peaches, d’ya think so?” His expression darkens whilst he fondles your love-handles, your floral sundress from earlier being bunched up around your hips. You shake your head ‘no’, letting out a soft “uh-uh”.

Rafe’s eyes soften, similar to how you look; he mocks you, exaggerating his pout. “Well, what’re we gonna do with you then, huh precious?”

Your tongue darts out for his lips, your mouth encloses his, and there’s nothing sweet about this kiss. Your tongues battle heatedly, Rafe allows you to think that you’ve won, until he presses his prominent bulge against your stomach, making you gasp in surprise and delight.

Spit dribbles down your chin, his handle cradles your head, leaving no room for you to pull away. You moan and whimper against him, your nimble fingers glide down his chiseled body, and rest against his belt buckle.

Then, Rafe remembers that the two of you are still in fact, on the side of the road. He breaks the kiss, making you chase after him; the string of saliva breaking whilst you whimper for more.

“Mmm, I know baby. Tell you what, how about I have you atone in a different way, would you like that pretty?” His veiny hands raise, resting lightly against your shoulders as his thumbs rub against your throat.

You eagerly nod your head up and down, wanting nothing more than to get your hands on your man wearing his delicious uniform.

Rafe drags you to the passenger seat then dashes to the driver's seat, and he mentally, he thanks every god out there that he forgot to turn both his body-cam, and his dash-cam back on.

He leans the seat back and beckons you over with his index and middle finger. “C’mon Peaches, y’know what to do.” You reach over and begin to unbuckle his pants.

Your body digs somewhat uncomfortably into the center console, but you can’t seem to care— not when Rafe’s cock twitches in his boxers. Your mouth nearly waters at the sight.

You take him out, making him hiss and screw his eyes shut for a moment.

Your manicured finger brushes against his pink tip, rubbing circles as you leave soft, feathery kisses to the base of his dick.

Rafe grunts in frustration, growing impatient with your constant teasing. He grabs your hair roughly, angling your face just above his dick.

“Make sure you breathe through your nose f’me, Peach.”

Your head is pushed down; your lips wrap perfectly around his shaft as it goes deeper into your mouth. Your nose is pressed against Rafe’s hairy thigh, his cock kissing the back of your throat beautifully. You gag slightly at his length, making your boyfriend chuckle.

He pulls you off, then sends you right back down just as quick. You hollow your cheeks as your head continues to bob. Spit gathers around your mouth due to Rafe’s force. He uses his left hand to hold your hair, while his right rubs the back of your neck.

It’s something so soft, so sweet, while in such a dirty, sinful situation.

The wet sounds of your gagging and slurping is all Rafe can focus on. —That and how sexy you look with the blue and red lights reflecting off of your face. It’s a sight he wishes to preserve in his mind for the rest of eternity.

He fully removes you from his dick, allowing you to catch your breath. “Mhm, you got it baby,” he says through his panting.

He guides your head back down; you don’t even get a chance to wrap your hand around what doesn’t fit because he’s thrusting up into your mouth.

Tears pool into your eyes, but Rafe can hardly tell due to them nearly rolling to the back of your head.

You whimper around him, your angelic sounds and the squelching which permeated the car only encourage him.

“You’re my good girl though, right Peaches? You’re gonna take it real good f’me?” Rafe moans at the sensation of your tongue swirling around his cock.

You squeal around him, trying to shake your head ‘yes’ at him but Rafe continues to roll his hips up.

The car shifts when another comes speeding down the road, but he can’t seem to give a shit when the woman of his dreams is nearly sucking him off the bone.

Rafe’s head is tilted towards the roof, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows his spit. His chest heaves, his grip on the back of your neck tightening as he moans hopelessly.

“H-hah, that mouth was made f’me precious,” he grunts through his gritted teeth.

“You. Were. Made. For. Me.” His words are emphasized by his thrusts.

He switches hands, allowing his left to snatch up your hand, so his right can hold onto the open window.

His bucking grows erratic, his rhythm being lost, alongside his mind as he grows closer and closer to his climax. You can feel him twitching in your mouth, another sign of him almost finishing.

Rafe can no longer contain his moans, he’s borderline wailing at this point, his body is lifting off the seat, but you maintain your pace.

“Y-yes baby! That’s it! Make me cum, honey. Make me fucking cum.” He sounds almost pained, which fuels your burning desire.

Rafe’s been reduced to a whimpering mess now, despite his acts of dominance earlier, but neither of you mind. His moans go higher in pitch, then suddenly, you feel his warm load flood your mouth.

The salty taste makes you moan, making Rafe shiver, and his thighs twitch.

You release him with a ‘pop’, and you leave a sweet, yet seductive kiss to the head of his flushed cock.

His load mixed with your hot saliva drips down your chin, you take your index finger and scoop it into your mouth while holding Rafe’s deepend gaze.

You lock your lips with his, and he gasps at your attempt to literally, take his breath away.

He breaks away with a low grumble, and you giggle. You pull down the driver side’s visor and look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is sticking up every which way, your mascara from earlier in the day now dries against your tear stained cheeks, and your lips are kiss bitten and puckered.

Rafe tucks himself away before you climb into his lap, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

“I think I atoned for my rule breaking quite well, don’t you, Officer Cameron?” You grin mischievously, pressing your nose against his.

Rafe only hums in response, he smiles at your antics and kisses you softly.

“I uh..I got a few things to take care of back at the station,” he mumbled.

“How about you go home and wait for me there, baby.”

You pout at this, while he exits the car with you still wrapped around him.

He sets you down once you reply, “Will you come home to me?” His expression softens.

He pecks all around your face, making it harder for you to keep up your sullen act.

“Of course, pretty girl,” Rafe whispers.

You cross your arms as he continues, “I’ll wrap up so quickly, babe. Then I can…” He trails off, before ducking down to your ear.

“Return the favor.” He nibbles at your ear, and you press your legs together.

“Mmm, okay. But hurry back..” You peer at him, fixing his wild hair strands. He kisses your wrist.

“Of course,” and with that, he firmly kisses your cheek before allowing you to step back into your car.

After you settle in—after he finished adjusting your seat back, you place your hands on the wheel and spare him a last glance.

“Can you do me a favor, baby?” He asks with a grin, but you can tell it’s far from sweet.

You hum, both in curiosity and excitement.

“Think you can hold onto these for me?” He places the item into your hand, and leans back to head to his car, but not without yet another kiss to your lips.

You lick your lips as you watch him walk back to his police cruiser.

You know he won’t leave until you do, so you eventually pull off.

The set of shining, silver handcuffs resting next to you, and an ever growing heat between your legs.

[s0dium]

Douchebag

A/n: This is honestly the BEST fic I've ever written! I took a lot from prompts I found on this site and the smut scene is inspired from a book called "The Kiss Quotient." (It was just so damn good). This fanfic is also inspired by my original fanfic, "Douchebag" Tengen x Reader. ALSO, I AM WORKING ON YUTA FICS, SO DON'T WORRY! Word count: 3.5k

Synopsis: Gojo Satrou was a man of many things. It would be hard to find anyone in the jujutsu world who hadn’t heard of his name before, whether that be through his many wins in battle or his reputation as an A-class player. Some describe him as eccentric, and others (mostly girls) describe him as irresistible. You? Well, you on the other hand would describe him as nothing else than an utter, complete,  douchebag. Warnings: Enemies to lovers,  teasing, fingering, intense kissing for a sec, squirting, use of pet names, belly bulge, cervix fucking, breeding kink, virgin!reader, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, choking ~

You scoffed, watching through the classroom window as a clearly frustrated old man stormed out of the building, no doubt a higher up. No doubt the work of Gojo Satoru. "God I hate him." You hissed, turning to face a dozing-off Shoko and your other friend Haibara. The classroom you sat in was almost empty, bathed in the soft light of midday filtering through large windows. Sparse shadows stretch across the well-worn wooden floor. Rows of desks, mostly unoccupied, face a dusty chalkboard at the front. "Who Satoru?" Shoko yawned, leaning into the palm of her hand to face you. Haibara lets out a loud chuckle. "Why? Because he's an ass to higher-ups?" He nods to the window and you click your tongue against the rough of your mouth. "No, it's because he is an ass in general. His whole 'holier than thou' attitude, and don't get me started on the way he treats girls." You practically shiver as you remember the time you saw some poor girl from Kyoto Jujutsu High profess her love to the white hair man, only to run away sobbing. "I swear to god it's like he expects us to kiss the floor that he walks on, he's.... infuriating" "Who's infuriating?" Oh god, you knew that stupidly deep voice anywhere. You whipped around to find yourself face to face with the very tall white-haired man you were talking about; a shit-eating grin spread across his infuriatingly handsome face.

“You couldn't be talking about me, could you?” Satoru's voice dripped faux shock and you rolled your eyes.

“Well you know what they say, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You spat.

“That must be why you love using that pretty mouth of yours to talk about me so much.” Satoru lowered himself to close the provoking height difference between the two of you until your noses were inches away from touching. “Cause ya love having me around  doncha.”

In that moment you have to conjure up every ounce of self-restraint to not spit in his face there and then, and luckily your friends catch the drift. "Hey Satoru! What are you doing here?" Perked up Haibara who reached out his hand to dap Gojo up. "Well, Suguru and I are heading for a night out today, small club, and I thought, out of the kindness of my heart," You scoff and Gojo merely grins and continues, "I'd invite you all. Drink on me of course." As Satrou's invitation lingered in the air, you noticed Shoko's ears perk up. Her curiosity was piqued, a subtle lift of her eyebrows betraying her interest. You bit your tongue, the taste of reluctance sharp against your teeth. The idea of going anywhere with Satrou was far from appealing, but knowing your friends might join made it harder to outright refuse.

You crossed your arms defensively, leaning back slightly as you fixed Satrou with a skeptical look. "And why would you want me there?"

Satrou's lips curled into a half-smirk, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint."You're annoying, I'll give you that," He took a casual step closer, and leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, "but I never said you weren't fun."

His words, intended to irk you, did their job well. You glared at him sharply, the frustration evident in your furrowed brows and the hard set of your jaw.

Satrou chuckled.

“Great, I’ll take that as a yes then, I'll text you guys the details.” He turns around to walk out of the classroom. “See you guys there!”

There was a silence as you all watched Satrou walk away before Haibara turns to look at you. “So are you going to go y/n? Come on it will be so much fun!”

“Yeah no way in hell.”

~ You were a liar. You were a liar because here you were, leaning over the counter of a bar in a club that was far from "small." The nightclub was a pulsing, chaotic hive of activity. Neon lights flashed in syncopation with the deafening throb of electronic dance music that shook the very air. The club was jam-packed with bodies moving rhythmically, the heat from the mass of humanity palpable as the scent of sweat and sweet perfumes mingled. The bar surface was sticky under your arms, and the occasional spill from a too-hastily poured drink added to the chaos of sounds and smells around you. You lazily stirred the thin red straw into your drink, trying to politely ignore the creep who wouldn't stop talking to you.

Somehow, in the maze of gyrating bodies and blinding strobe lights, you had lost both Shoko and Haibara, leaving you stranded at the mercy of this clueless conversationalist. Despite the roar of bass and the chatter of dozens of conversations, his words seemed to bore into your ears, relentless and unyielding. He leaned in closer than necessary, trying to make himself heard over the club's cacophony, not realizing or perhaps not caring, that you were more interested in plotting an escape than in anything he had to say. "And might I say you look gorgeous tonight." It took everything you had not to scoff at this creep's words, but before you should shut the man down, you felt an arm wrap around you. "Everything alright love?" Oh god. You knew that voice anywhere. As you turned, you were met by Satrou's piercing blue eyes, their color vivid even behind stylish rectangular sunglasses. The multicolor flashing lights overhead caught in the threads of Satrou’s light blue button-up, making it shimmer subtly, and the fabric clung just right to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, hinting at the well-defined physique beneath. You hated the fact that your brain immediately noted how damn good he looked. His arm was wrapped around your waist drawing you close and you had to bite your tongue from frowning at the pet name he had given you As he leaned in, his voice was low, a soft murmur over the noise of the club, "This guy bothering you baby?" His tone was teasing, and you could detect the challenge in it, as if daring you to admit that his closeness and pet names affected you just as much as he knew it did. "Of course I'm fine baby!" You smile brightly and for a second you think Satrou looked a bit taken aback. If playing along got you out of this situation so be it. "This guy, I'm sorry, what's your name?" You glance back at the creep who had turned bright red. "I'm sorry, excuse me." You watched as the man disappeared into the throng of the bustling crowd, your attention fixed until he was well out of sight. Only then did you turn back to Satrou, the false warmth on your face instantly transforming into a cold, hard glare.

"Thanks for that, but you can get your hand off me now," you said, your voice icy as you tried to wriggle out of his hold. Despite your efforts, Satrou’s grip on your waist remained firm, unyielding.

"And why should I? I think we made a fantastic couple," Satrou cooed, a teasing lilt in his voice. His eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly enjoying the moment far more than you.

You rolled your eyes, exasperation seeping through. "You really think I would fall for something like that?"

"Why? Did you?" he probed further, his smile widening, eyes searching yours for any sign of genuine affect. Anger started to boil up inside you as your attempts to escape his grasp remained futile.

"I don't think you understand the dynamic here very well, Satoru," you began, your voice low and deliberate, each word punctuated for emphasis. You stepped closer, invading his space as much as he had invaded yours, your eyes never leaving his. "Let me make this crystal clear, I'm not someone you can just fucking conquer, and I'm certainly not one of those girls who's gonna kiss the ground you walk on with your whole 'I'm the strongest' act," you seethed.

Your face was mere inches from his now, your breath mingling, the tension palpable. "Because I know what you really are, Satrou," you hissed, the anger in your voice barely contained. "You're a fucking douche bag." "Oh? Is that so."

Satrou's expression shifted subtly, the amusement fading into something more measured, more cautious. He studied you for a moment and you took the chance to wiggle out of his grasp and make your way through the crowd on the dance floor toward the door. The beat of the music pounds in your ears and throughout your body making your synapses jump like beans in a tin can. You can barely see the floor, only flashes of bodies you frantically tried to push past. Before you can make it to the back door, a hand grips your wrist tightly enough to halt your forward rush. Above the din of the pulsating music and amidst the strobe-lit shadows of dancing figures, Satoru's face comes into view. You feel your breath catch in your throat. God his is beautiful. Strobe lights catch and accent every one of his sharp features alighting them in a multicolor color hue. He pulls your wrist to him so you're close, too close. You can smell the old spice shampoo from his hair mixed in with some sort of sweet cologne. It's a smell that makes you want to bury your nose into him over and over again. "Jesus fucking Christ y/n" he breathed his eyes searching yours. "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?" You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”

“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so

“I-fuck you” the words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.

“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and his eyes are soft. Fuck it. You can no longer hear the lyrics to whatever song was playing, only a soft dull hum of the beat in your ears. Immediately your lips are on his. The kiss is frantic, hot, messy. The club's pulse thrummed through you like a second heartbeat, the noise and chaos all but forgotten in the singular focus of his presence. You could feel one of his large hands on the small of your back, drawing you in until there was no space left between the both of you. Your mouths clashed against each other as if you were both seeking something vital, something long-denied. Satoru's lips were insistent against yours, moving with a fervor that matched the pounding bass surrounding you. You whined as his tongue slipped into your mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the firm press of his chest against yours. The scent of his cologne mixed with the smoky air around us, intoxicating and heady.

Your mouths separated with a soft pop, and Satoru is grinning while you're left dazed, breath heavy and chests rising and falling after it. "How bout you say we get out of here Princess."Gojo's voice was a low murmur, his breath warm against your ear as you broke from the intense kiss.

Before you could even respond, a dizzying rush enveloped you. The loud club vanished in an instant, replaced by the quiet, dimly lit ambiance of his bedroom. You were suddenly on his bed, the soft duvet beneath you a stark contrast to the hard dance floor we'd just left. Right, he can teleport. You forgot about that. Wait was he... where are you going to... Before you can get a word in, he’s once again engulfing your lips with his and pulling you into a feverish kiss in which the two of you can’t seem to get enough of each other. The moment one pulls away to breathe, the other is immediately searching for their lips again; intertwining tongues and teeth clashing together recklessly.

Your hot, everything is hot, your body is burning up by the second and there’s a sickly sweet feeling in your stomach that keeps on expanding as time passes. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hand slip under your skirt and lightly trace the outline of your slit with his index finger. You're painfully wet; your arousal has made a large spot on your underwear translucent. “Just touch me,’ you whined, arching impatiently against his hand. He couldn’t make either of you wait any longer. Slowly, he brought his middle finger down and slid it gently over her folds. You threw your head back. "Ahhhh, more please." He did it again, this time his fingertip slipping between and gathering your wetness. He parted you with two fingers. You let out a gasp when he hit your clit and started to rub it in small circles. You tried to say something, anything to explain how hot you were feeling right now, but your words were lost against his soft lips. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him so close against you, skin to skin. Time and space had no meaning anymore. There was only you and Satrou.

“You feeling good baby? Satrou speaks slowly, breath on your neck and voice in your ear making you shiver. You bite your lip and nod like any words that came from you would ruin it. You almost wince when you feel two fingers slip into your tight hole. "Jesus, fuck. You gotta relax princesses." He chuckled, knowing far to well that the tightness was going to feel delicious around him. Two fingers worked into you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. He began a steady rhythm as his tongue nipped and sucked the tender skin of your neck. You couldn’t prevent her hips from rising to meet his thrusts. Oh God, you were riding his hand. That had to be bad. You told herself to stop. You couldn’t. Somehow, you found your hands tangled in his short white hair. Your body was coiled tighter, grasping at his fingers, so wet now you could hear the slippery sounds every time he drove back into you. "Hnghhh.... so good." You squeezed your eyes type, becoming focused on the tightening feeling of your core and the blossoming warm pleasure. Your legs started to tremble under the unbearable pleasure and your back arched against the bed as if your body was trying to escape the euphoric feeling that coursed through your skin. "That’s it, fuck, beautiful girl... such a natural submissive...." You want to tell him he's wrong, all this pleasure wasn't because of his egotistic ass, but it'd be a lie. And as if on command, all feelings come to a heightened crescendo; explosions of euphoria clouding your brain causing your toes to curl from pleasure and your body to shake like a leaf.

It takes a couple seconds after you calmed down to realize you squirted all over Satoru's hand and all blood rushes to your face turning you a bright red.

“Oh my god in so sorry I didn’t-”

Your voice dies out as you watch Satrou pull off his shirt, revealing his extremely built body and toned muscles, to wipe the liquid off his hand. You don’t even notice that he had pulled out his dick until you feel something pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so. Your stomach inwardly twisted,  filled with the sickly excitement and your breathing started to quicken. "Shhhhh baby," Satoru cups your cheek and kisses your forehead. It was a sweet gesture despite everything happening right now, a gesture that made your heart swell and your mind yearn for Satoru. The stretch of his dick spreading your walls is insane. No amount of preparation could've prepared you for the length of Satoru's dick. You feel it heavy inside you and Satrou pushes into you until he can't push anymore, until his hips are flush against you and the tip of his length is smushed against your cervix. The pleasure of that alone felt numb, unbearable, you needed friction, you needed him to move. You practically faint when he first thrusts into you in earnest. It's euphoric; the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up. His cock pulsed inside of your silky walls, stretching you to the fullest capacity as he bottomed out again and again. "Oh fuck." Satrou groaned. He was no longer grinning, Satoru's playful resolves vanished and his smile quickly dropped. He knew you'd feel good, but he didn't expect how good you'd feel. The feeling of his hand he had fucked himself to the thought of you for so many nights was nothing compared to the real thing. It was too much, the feeling of your wet soft walls gripping him so tightly. How was he able to live without your pussy in the first place? The pleasure built rapidly, too potent, too insistent. He kneeled over you, a groan escaping his lips—a raw, primal sound that vibrated through the charged air between you. Satorus thrust your quick and hard, a clear display of strength and endurance he had gained from years of jujutsu training. "Been thinking about this, so long, bet you have to have ya~"

As Satrou's long, deliberate fingers encircle your neck, a thrilling chill races down your spine. He applies pressure gently at first, then with a firmer, insistent grip that gradually restricts your airflow, sending a wave of exhilaration through your senses. The world around you narrows, focusing intently on the point where his skin contacts yours, heightening every other sensation that courses through you. His other hand slips under your bra bra to grab and massage your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipples.

"Satoru..! Ahhhh..! I..I, fuckkkkk can't handle this.." You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed with his hand squeezing your throat it was just all too much.

Satoru. Satoru. Satoru

"Slow down.. please im gonna ahhhh~" Drool slipped passed your lips and you writhed and squirmed at the feeling of hot euphoria passed over your body in flesh arrow. "Gonna cum? Fuck baby, let's... let's come together m'kay?" Satrou almost stuttered. His body had kicked into autopilot, and a deep primal need for you settled in as he thrust in and out, creating a methodical rhythm that echoed in your ears. Your ankles lock around his lower back and you cry out when the head of his cock kisses your womb, your legs shaking as you feel yourself start to be thrown into an intense orgasm. You want to say something about the weird feeling in your stomach, how your skin is buzzing but it's all too much, and before you know it your tumbling toward the edge. It feels like your whole body was shot with electricity and color dances in your eyes as you float in ecstasy.

"Sh-Shit, shit, fuuuuck~" He chuckles into your ear, choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny. Satoru doesn't pull out as you both come down from your high, instead watching you intently as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Wanna do this again?" He chuckles.

"Fuck, yes, please."

[gguk-n]

hey could you maybe write a lando x reader where when it was clear that lando lost the championship the reader just comforts him but he is distancing himself from her but she doesn’t give up on him so pls a happy end ❤️

established relationship, not very angsty, short

My World Champion

Things had been rough between the pair for a few months. With the mounting pressure on Lando to perform had left him pushing all those close to him away. He wasn't very happy with it but he felt like maybe he could focus better. The person who had to deal with the brunt of Lando's distance was his girlfriend, Y/N. They'd been together for a while and friends for longer. They just got each other like no other but lately Y/N felt like she didn't know Lando as well as she used to.

Y/N did try to bring up the distance. It was Azerbaijan, "Lan, don't you think we barely talk" Y/N spoke slowly, trying to start a conversation with her boyfriend who was sat across from her on the sofa. He didn't bother to even look up, "What's there to talk about when I'm busy trying to win a championship. Let me focus" he huffed. "I didn't mean it like that. I just thought we could spend some time together" Y/N trailed off. "We are sat together right now. How much more time do you want to spend with me?" Lando sighed and finally looked up from his laptop. "I just" she felt her voice die in her throat. 'I don't remember the last time we kissed Lan' her brain thought as she got up and left the room before another fight ensued.

It was during the winter break when things were starting to look up. Lando had just won the Singapore GP, he was more attentive and present; they even cuddled the whole day. Y/N thought that she had her boyfriend back. Oh how wrong she was because as soon as they were back on track; Lando was back to square one. The Austin loss hit deep, making Lando double down on strategising and spending every waking hour with the team or thinking about Formula One. It was like he forgot Y/N existed or for that matter himself. She would sit there and stare at her boyfriend who looked more and more like a stranger with each passing day.

Things had become rocky between them. She felt the divide growing with each passing weekend. Mexico wasn't any better. But Brazil landed a huge blow to Lando. He shut down, he stopped talking to anyone and spent all his time scrolling on his phone. There was nothing she could do without Lando walking out or shutting the door on her face. So, she sat and waited. She would cook his favourite food or leave out his favourite snacks to munch on. But she didn't make much break through on him; as he still chooses to stay reserved, opting to carry the burden alone.

It was after the Las Vegas quali, when Y/N noticed the light begin leave Lando's eyes. All she could offer were words and cuddles but Lando had put up a wall between them. The bed seemed too big for the two of them with either on each side. She stared at the space in between them wondering when it had gotten this big.

After the race, Y/N sighed a sigh of relief. The Championship battle was over and that meant she got her Lando back. She saw glimpses of him when he congratulated Max and couldn't wait to jump into his arms. But it was like Lando was back, just not for her.

That night, they spent it like any other, on either side of the bed. But as Y/N tried to fall asleep, she felt the bed shake. On further inspection, she saw Lando's frame quietly shaking from the sobs as he tried to not make any noise. Her heart hurt watching him, she slowly scooted over causing Lando to stop crying for a moment. She wrapped her arm around his torso and buried her head in his neck. "I love you, my world champion" she whispered causing Lando to turn around. His face was streaked with tears which she carefully wiped off. "I don't like it when you cry" she muttered and pecked his lips. "I thought you fell asleep" Lando mumbled. "Can't sleep without my cuddles" she quipped. "But, I'm not the world champion" was all he muttered, remembering her first comment. "For the world, no. For me, always" she smiled. Lando searched her eyes for anything, but all he found was undeterred love. "And you're not angry?" he asked. "No. I'm happy to watch you compete for the championship because I know, sooner or later you'll win it. Just waiting for that day" she reassured. "I'm sorry for being a dick. I was just" Lando spoke before she cut him off, "over whelmed. I know. But you didn't have to do it all alone. What am I here for?" she spoke tenderly. "I love you" he whispered kissing her for the first time in a long time. "I love you too, muppet" she whispered back. He looked at her for a long time as his hands pulled her closer, running along her frame; "What would I do without you?" he asked. "Crash and burn" she chided. "Agreed" he mumbled pulling her in for another kiss. "You alway know how to make me happy" he mumbled in between kisses. "Only when you listen to me. Otherwise you're Mr Grumpy" she chuckled. "I promise not to be Mr Grumpy anymore" he laughed kissing her again. "Next time I'm grumpy, kiss me. I think all my worries melt away with your kisses" he said pressing her against him. "So, the next time you start an argument, I'm gonna kiss you" she said cupping his cheeks. "Best way to end an argument" he smiled pressing their foreheads together. "I won't disagree" she kissed him again, making up for all the lost time.

[luna-azzurra]

Writing a Morally gray character

Think about their backstory, what shaped them into who they are? What do they believe in? And, most importantly, what pushes them to get out of bed every morning and keep going? These characters aren’t simple good or bad. They’re caught in the middle, in that murky, complicated space between black and white. That’s where they get interesting because they’re constantly wrestling with themselves, trying to figure out the right choice, or if the “right” choice even exists for them.

You need to show this internal battle. Imagine your character being torn between what they believe is morally right and what they actually want. This is where the real drama comes in, it’s like watching them juggle their principles with their desires in real-time. They’ll mess up, and they’ll make decisions that are sometimes questionable, but that’s what makes them human and relatable. One way to really highlight their complexity is by putting them in situations where there’s no clear answer. You know, those moments in life where everything’s kind of a mess, and you’re stuck trying to figure out what the hell you’re supposed to do? Your character should face situations like that. These gray areas create tension because readers won’t know which direction the character will go, and honestly, your character might not know either.

And don’t forget, growth is a huge part of writing a morally gray character. People aren’t static, they change based on what happens to them, and your character should too. Maybe they start off with a strong sense of morality but, over time, that starts to shift. Or maybe they start with shaky ethics and slowly become a better person as they learn from their mistakes. Growth can also go the other way, they could spiral downward, giving in to darker impulses. Either way, they need to evolve, just like people do in real life. That’s what keeps the story fresh and unpredictable. The last thing you want is a character that stays the same the whole way through.

Also, please, no stereotypes. A morally gray character doesn’t have to be a brooding anti-hero with a tragic past (unless that’s your vibe, but even then, switch it up). Give them quirks that make them unique. Maybe they have unexpected motivations, like they’re doing something shady for a cause they genuinely believe in, or they’ve got a weird sense of humor that throws people off. Whatever it is, make sure they feel like an individual, not just a copy-paste character we’ve all seen a million times.

Even when your character makes decisions that aren’t exactly clean-cut or heroic, the reader still needs to understand why. Show their vulnerabilities, why they doubt themselves, why they hesitate, and why they ultimately make the choices they do. It’s all about making them relatable, even when they’re walking that fine line between right and wrong. People might not always agree with them, but they should at least be able to see where they’re coming from.

And remember, every choice your character makes should have consequences. They don’t exist in a bubble. Their decisions should ripple out and affect not only them but the people around them. Maybe they make a selfish decision, and it ends up hurting someone they care about, or they try to do the right thing, and it blows up in their face. One last thing, just because your character lives in that gray area doesn’t mean they don’t have any sense of right or wrong. They might have their own personal code they follow, even if it doesn’t line up with society’s morals. Maybe they justify their actions in a way that makes sense to them, even if other people wouldn’t agree. It’s all about exploring that space where they’re not totally good, but not totally bad either. That’s where things get really interesting.

Think about where your character is going. Is their journey going to push them to become a better version of themselves? Will they fall back into old patterns and never really change? Or will they stay stuck in that moral gray zone, constantly torn between doing what’s right and doing what feels right for them?

[the-rat-house]

Galacta is laying in a field near the castle, enjoying the breeze and the distant sound of people as the sun warms him.

He also... Maaaay be there in hopes a certain someone notices him. Though he truthfully has no idea if said individual is around there.

At least he can relax regardless.

[thefatfemme]

(hope you don't mind OP, just wanted to include your tags for context)

I love this take. I don't entirely believe Bioware fully realizes it at this point, or at least they haven't verbalized the series' overarching themes in this way, but they need to so they can do it better. This is a series about the inevitable march forward, empires rise and fall and change the world and in the end no one really remembers, life just keeps going until the moments you thought etched in stone are less than specks on the horizon. Your choices matter within each game, in the immediacy of the moment, but like all history they are flattened and forgotten as time moves on. Nothing matters but it *all* matters, you understand? Dragon Age is about how one person or one small group can simultaneously do so much, have such an impact on the world, and yet barely leave a scuff behind. Bioware just needs to listen to Dolly Parton and do it on purpose.

Mfw the game about the futility of choice and the horror of living in an oppressive system where individual actions can do very little even when well intentioned isn't narratively important in its minutae a decade+ after its close

[suzannahnatters]

So here's one of the coolest things that has happened to me as a Tolkien nut and an amateur medievalist. It's also impacted my view of the way Tolkien writes women. Here's Carl Stephenson in MEDIEVAL FEUDALISM, explaining the roots of the ceremony of knighthood: "In the second century after Christ the Roman historian Tacitus wrote an essay which he called Germania, and which has remained justly famous. He declares that the Germans, though divided into numerous tribes, constitute a single people characterised by common traits and a common mode of life. The typical German is a warrior. [...] Except when armed, they perform no business, either private or public. But it is not their custom that any one should assume arms without the formal approval of the tribe. Before the assembly the youth receives a shield and spear from his father, some other relative, or one of the chief men, and this gift corresponds to the toga virilis among the Romans--making him a citizen rather than a member of a household" (pp 2-3). Got it?

Remember how Tolkien was a medievalist who based his Rohirrim on Anglo-Saxon England, which came from those Germanic tribes Tacitus was talking about? Stephenson argues that the customs described by Tacitus continued into the early middle ages eventually giving rise to the medieval feudal system. One of these customs was the gift of arms, which transformed into the ceremony of knighthood: "Tacitus, it will be remembered, describes the ancient German custom by which a youth was presented with a shield and a spear to mark his attainment of man's estate. What seems to the be same ceremony reappears under the Carolingians. In 791, we are told, Charlemagne caused Prince Louis to be girded with a sword in celebration of his adolescence; and forty-seven years later Louis in turn decorated his fifteen-year-old son Charles "with the arms of manhood, i.e., a sword." Here, obviously, we may see the origin of the later adoubement, which long remained a formal investiture with arms, or with some one of them as a symbol. Thus the Bayeux Tapestry represents the knighting of Earl Harold by William of Normandy under the legend: Hic Willelmus dedit Haroldo arma (Here William gave arms to Harold). [...] Scores of other examples are to be found in the French chronicles and chansons de geste, which, despite much variation of detail, agree on the essentials. And whatever the derivation of the words, the English expression "dubbing to knighthood" must have been closely related to the French adoubement" (pp 47-48.)

In its simplest form, according to Stephenson, the ceremony of knighthood included "at most the presentation of a sword, a few words of admonition, and the accolade." OK. So what does this have to do with Tolkien and his women? AHAHAHAHA I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED. First of all, let's agree that Tolkien, a medievalist, undoubtedly was aware of all the above. Second, turn with me in your copy of The Lord of the Rings to chapter 6 of The Two Towers, "The King of the Golden Hall", when Theoden and his councillors agree that Eowyn should lead the people while the men are away at war. (This, of course, was something that medieval noblewomen regularly did: one small example is an 1178 letter from a Hospitaller knight serving in the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem which records that before marching out to the battle of Montgisard, "We put the defence of the Tower of David and the whole city in the hands of our women".) But in The Lord of the Rings, there's a little ceremony.

"'Let her be as lord to the Eorlingas, while we are gone.' 'It shall be so,' said Theoden. 'Let the heralds announce to the folk that the Lady Eowyn will lead them!' Then the king sat upon a seat before his doors and Eowyn knelt before him and received from him a sword and a fair corselet."

I YELLED when I realised what I was reading right there. You see, the king doesn't just have the heralds announce that Eowyn is in charge. He gives her weapons.

Theoden makes Eowyn a knight of the Riddermark.

Not only that, but I think this is a huge deal for several reasons. That is, Tolkien knew what he was doing here.

From my reading in medieval history, I'm aware of women choosing to fight and bear arms, as well as becoming military leaders while the men are away at some war or as prisoners. What I haven't seen is women actually receiving knighthood. Anyone could fight as a knight if they could afford the (very pricy) horse and armour, and anyone could lead a nation as long as they were accepted by the leaders. But you just don't see women getting knighted like this.

Tolkien therefore chose to write a medieval-coded society, Rohan, where women arguably had greater equality with men than they did in actual medieval societies.

I think that should tell us something about who Tolkien was as a person and how he viewed women - perhaps he didn't write them with equal parity to men (there are undeniably more prominent male characters in The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, at least, than female) but compared to the medieval societies that were his life's work, and arguably even compared to the society he lived in, he was remarkably egalitarian.

I think it should also tell us something about the craft of writing fantasy.

No, you don't have to include gut wrenching misogyny and violence against women in order to write "realistic" medieval-inspired fantasy.

Tolkien's fantasy worlds are DEEPLY informed by medieval history to an extent most laypeople will never fully appreciate. The attitudes, the language, the ABSOLUTELY FLAWLESS use of medieval military tactics...heck, even just the way that people travel long distances on foot...all of it is brilliantly medieval.

The fact that Theoden bestows arms on Eowyn is just one tiny detail that is deeply rooted in medieval history. Even though he's giving those arms to a woman in a fantasy land full of elves and hobbits and wizards, it's still a wonderfully historically accurate detail.

Of course, I've ranted before about how misogyny and sexism wasn't actually as bad in medieval times as a lot of people today think. But from the way SOME fantasy authors talk, you'd think that historical accuracy will disappear in a puff of smoke if every woman in the dragon-infested fantasy land isn't being traumatised on the regular.

Tolkien did better. Be like Tolkien.

[cybershock24601]

My most unhinged and for the drama post canon Rookanis scenario is where Rook accidentally gets pregnant post the first night she and Luccanis spend together because they're both virgins, Rook's not on any contraceptive, and the final battle is happening pretty much right after so remembering to take the fantasy morning after pill kinda gets lost in the shuffle and it basically results in Lucanis speedrunning ditching the Crows to become the Ultimate Househusband.

The way I typically imagine post canon Rookanis going down is Rook moving in with Lucanis and her relationship with Caterina slowly worsening over months and years because while Caterina probably starts pretty neutral on Rook, she just does not vibe with Rook's personality and considering she's a paranoid old woman, does not like the influence this outsider has on her grandson or the sort of support Rook has unintentionally built up amongst the Crows during the whole, let's kill these evil elven gods fiasco. Sure Caterina named Lucanis First Talon but its pretty clear a lot of the power is supposed to remain in her guiding hand and Rook is an unknown and chaotic variable fucking with her plans.

Rook on the other hand goes in ready to do her best to build a good relationship with Caterina for Lucanis' sake but starts souring on Caterina the more she learns about Lucanis and Illario's childhoods and is like, no wonder shit went so sideways, which combined with Caterina's increasingly passive aggressive behavior, Rook is only being civil because she is not willing to cause more problems in Lucanis' already fucked up family but its not like Rook is taking Caterina's jabs without getting in a few of her own.

On top of that, despite Caterina's personal dislike of Rook, she's also pushing for Lucanis and Rook to marry and start pumping out great grandbabies to repopulate House Dellamorte. While Rook is more then willing to marry Lucanis, the more Rook learns about how Caterina raised Lucanis and Illario and just about the Crows in general, she starts getting a lot of reservations about raising any child of hers in such a fucked up environment. Meanwhile Lucanis is aggressively Not Thinking About It because while he can justify the treatment he received growing up, thinking about raising his children the way he was would probably break his brain a little because its a little hard to ignore how fucked up and traumatic your own childhood is when you have to confront how much that would fuck up and traumatize someone else.

So instead of these issues growing worse and worse over the years until they completely bubble over, Rook and Lucanis have to pretty immediately confront the realities of raising a family in the Crows and by the time the kid is 6 months old Rook has enough of a grasp of what this kids future will look like in the Crows and Lucanis has had to confront continuing the cycle of abuse he was born into and they just mutually come to the decision that they need to GTFO now.

Also maybe throw in a rival Talon trying to smother this future First Talon before they have chance to grow for a little extra drama and to force Lucanis to confront the same choice Caterina did on whether the seat of First Talon is worth sacrificing his family and the answer is obviously a resounding No.

And this is all without accounting for Spite and how he would react to Rook being pregnant because I'm sure that's probably an insane concept for a spirit or how Spite would deal with this new tiny person that's half-Lucanis and half-Rook. Not to mention whatever inevitable over dramatic reaction Illario has to becoming an uncle while trying to patch up his relationship with Lucanis after the whole 'attempting to have Lucanis killed to take the position of First Talon' thing. Lots of room for comedy here to balance out how fucked up the rest of this story is.

Anyways all this ends with Lucanis and Rook traveling around for a few years to keep the Crows off their tail because I doubt Lucanis would be able to easily leave without some reprisal before they eventually quietly settle down in the Necropolis. Which serves as great security because I like the idea of magical semi sentient locations and I don't think the Necropolis would let any Crow assassins reach its Crypt Baby or Crypt Grandbaby

[gallusrostromegalus]

AEIWAM Question: What do the various Espada Think of Tousen? Follow-up question, will they, the bunch of dumbasses that they are (because Aizen made them for loyalty, not thinking), declare him their unquestioned leader once Aizen, Gin and Urloquia fork off to see the cosmic taffy pull (also presuming that Barrigan winds up face down in a ditch per canon)?

Bless you for asking this, I needed something to chew on. I'm going to answer these one at a time because the post would be insanely long, and how the thought of him Before the Battle of Karakura Probably:

---

Aaroniero and Arruruerie are SURE they've met before, and that they owes the man a debt of gratitude.

It's possible, they suppose. They have consumed and absorbed the memories of so many hollows that maybe they remember the face from a hollow he killed.

At least, that's what they hope is going on.

But they have Nightmares. Not of being pursued by Shinigami but of being the Shinigami in hot pursuit. Dreams of walking through a city, surrounded by humans that adore them. Names and Faces- Rukia and her dipshit older brother, Jushiro with the nice couch they sometimes pass out on after long nights- if Jushiro's husband wasn't already there. ...Memories, of meeting each other, and falling in love. How it felt as natural to look up to her as it was to gaze at the moon. How waking up to him felt as natural as the dawn. Memories of being married by Captain Ukitake, after Tousen had done them the inexplicable favor of organizing the whole party and acquiring wedding rings. He loves organizing things for people. Ukitake had smiled. Especially weddings. I just hope it's not guilt from the one he didn't get to. His husband had frowned.

That's impossible, of course. They know who they are, how they arose from the vile muck in the shadowy pits of Hueco Mundo. They never stood in the sun one late afternoon, to marry, not with how it burns.

...and yet.

There's no harm in being polite, right? They don't mind locking Glottineria in it's scabbard with an audible click when he comes into the room, to affirm lack of hostilities. Or giving him the cup of tea Aizen gives everyone at his insufferable meetings afterwards- it's not like they can drink it! ...And if sometimes, when they've been working late in the lab studying the effects and causes of Hollowfication, when Tousen gets tired and starts to call them "Kaien" and "Miyako"-

-Well, what's the harm in answering in the voices he expects to hear?

[inbarfink]

Any analysis of how Undertale deals with Pacifism and how it tries to guide the Player towards it has to take a deep look at Papyrus. Because Papyrus is the one character in the game who will never kill, the one actual ‘True Pacifist’ in the game’s main cast. 

I mean, the Player can be an even bigger Pacifist. Papyrus does still FIGHT, and the Player can get through an entire run without draining a single sliver of HP. But… they can also be the world’s biggest murderbastard and literally stab reality to death. 

Toriel would very much like to not kill, but she is also fully capable of doing so.

Same with Asgore, but he has a lot more actual blood on his hands. Undyne and Mettaton are both fully 100% willing to kill to accomplish their goals. Sans is non-violent in most runs because he’s too lazy and depressed to do anything, and when he is motivated into actions - it is in the form of a FIGHT to the death. Alphys… the timeline is a bit fuzzy cause both she and Mettaton love lying so much, but it seems like she did sincerely add deadly weapons to Mettaton cause killing humans would make him more 'useful' and then had second thoughts once she developed a parasocial relationship with the Human Child and THEN she and Mettaton started hatching their little play-acting plan. I think??

With Papyrus there is NONE of this ambiguity, we know for sure - no matter what timeline or what may come - The Great Papyrus will always choose MERCY.

And the interesting thing about that is on a Meta-Sense, Papyrus is a very rare example of the game giving MERCY towards the Player. 

Because the game starts out being really obtuse with the Sparing mechanic and how it works. If you want to be a Pacifist in Undertale from the get-go, you’re gonna have to work for it. You're gonna have to figure it out on your own and commit to it and believe that it's possible. It's basically a test of your own belief in non-violence and your moral integrity. Then, the RUINS end with the Toriel boss battle - in a way, that’s probably the hardest Sparing puzzle in the whole game. And it’s very very easy to accidentally kill her. (I’d almost say that’s the intention of the battle, to try to goad the Player into Resetting so they can see how the game remembers across RESETs)

And then we have Papyrus, and it’s not just that his ‘Sparing Puzzle’ is something as simple as outlasting him and letting him run out of dialogue - and it’s not just that he’s the only boss that will just give up and let you continue if you lose to him enough times. it’s also that, just as Papyrus is the only boss incapable of accidentally killing the Player - he’s also the only boss that the player is incapable of accidentally killing.

(Okay, fine, to be pedantic, there’s also Asgore)

I mean, the Player can certainly kill him if they want to - but draining Papyrus’s HP just makes him skip through his battle dialogue right to the end of it. It’s designed in such a way that, no matter what Route you're on and no matter what approach you take with Papyrus - you will always end up on this screen.

Unlike basically any other Monster in this game, including the major boss battle just before him - you can’t kill Papyrus accidently. You can't kill him without also having Sparing him as an option. The game kinda treats killing Papyrus as one of the Worst Things You Can Do because killing Papyrus will always be a deliberate, considered action done to a person who will not kill you and who has stopped wanting to FIGHT and has extended a hand of Mercy. With the game clearly communicating what you need to do to Spare him at that moment.

And that means that - even if you killed before, even if you don’t have the patience of a True Pacifist, even if you spent all this time in the game without even trying to engage with the Sparing mechanic… as long as you don’t want to be a Huge Rat Bastard, the game is basically gifting you with the very very easy option to not be. Being a Pacifist in Undertale is usually a challenge - a puzzle to be solved, a test to pass. But as long as you aren’t intentionally trying to be the Worst Person - the game is basically giving you Papyrus. 

If you accept his Mercy, you are accepting the game’s Mercy. That sort of benefit-of-the-doubt assumption that maybe all of the LOVE you might have accumulated so far was all due to honest mistakes or panic or an attempt in self-defense. That you still deserve this one chance to prove that you are not intentionally, maliciously cruel - or at least not like the Worst Person in the World. Even if you did kill before, you still deserve at least one friend.

And Sparing Papyrus leads you to his wonderful Hangout/Dating Sequence and to his Phone Calls and they all add so much wholesome charm to the Undertale experience and no matter what happens Papyrus will always think the best of the Player and he will always trust them and it also makes Sans also kinda your buddy by default. And more than just adding a little bit of wholesome charm into even the more LOVE-filled Playthroughs, I think this is meant to try and incentivize these players into trying out the Mercy mechanic a bit more.

Whatever it’s, like, for future playthroughs or Resetting the game right there to try a True Pacifist Run right there and then or just trying to be a little kinder for the rest of this current playthrough - especially since there’s an emphasis about the close friendship Papyrus has with the upcoming boss Undyne, and to a lesser extent with his idol and next-next boss battle Mettaton. It’s like “well, if you didn’t figure out how to spare before, this is how you do it? And isn’t it nice to have a friend? Isn’t it nice to not have to kill this lovable skeleton man? You should do this more often wink wink nudge nudge!”

And it’s like… all of Papyrus’ loved ones care about him so much but they also look down on his pacifism. They see his inability to kill and desire to make friends as simple naivete and that’s why all tend to hide the truth from him all the time. About what will happen to the Human he will capture, about what his new Human friend might’ve done, about the fact that they view him as so naïve. 

They admire it on some level, that’s why they want to protect it, but they also see it as a weakness which is why they want to protect it by lying to him all the time. But, you know, Undyne says that if Papyrus goes into battle he’ll be ‘ripped into little smiling shreds’ and that is certainly what happens every time a Player chooses to refuse Papyrus’ Mercy and the game’s Mercy and press that FIGHT button…

But have you thought about all the times that doesn’t happen? All the careless or violent players who were offered that skeletal hand of friendship, accepted it and then carried that offered kindness forward for the rest of the game? All the players motivated to do good for the sake of their buddy Papyrus? All the Murder Routes stopped because the player just didn’t have it in them to kill someone who believes in them so earnestly?

Like, no, it’s not a surefire thing - especially since Papyrus has so much less narrative power than the Actual Unkillable Time God that is the Player. But it happened, and it happened many many times to many players. Papyrus offered Mercy, the game offered Mercy. And much like Frisk’s Pacifism, it comes from a place of seeing the honest goodness in your ‘enemy’ and can inspire them to become a better person - this little sparkle of goodness being passed forwards. 

And I think that’s beautiful, even if it didn’t happen in every timeline. Any potential future where Papyrus’ kindness can have such an effect on the Player and thus the entire trajectory of the Underground validates his kindness and pacifism on some level - even if there are also always the potential worlds that it backfires completely. 

And there’s also one other way in which the Great Papyrus Proves Pacifism Pays. One that is a bit more practical, perhaps. And one that Papyrus himself is not even aware of. 

Papyrus’ boss battle can be a surprisingly challenging one specifically because he is the only one who doesn’t kill the Player.

Like there is a reason why Papyrus will just offer you to skip his Fight after you lose to him three times, because if he didn’t do that - there’s an honest risk that the Player can get stuck in a much stuckier way than anywhere else in the game. 

Because, like, for basically any other character in the game, being killed is the Worst Thing that could ever happen to them. For everyone except the actual Player Character because we are an Actual Unkillable Time God and dying is nothing more than a minor annoyance that sets you back to your last SAVE Point. So, leaving aside Papyrus’ admirably kind intentions - there is not much material difference from the Player’s perspective between getting Captured and getting a more traditional GAME OVER. Except…

Except getting Captured does not undo everything that happened in your inventory during the battle. In every other Undertale battle, if you use all of your items but still lose - the GAME OVER at least means you get your stuff back. But because Papyrus doesn’t kill you, any healing item you’ve used during the battle is still used. I have watched so many Undertale Let’s Players waste all of their valuable items on their first Papyrus battle and then have to face him again without them and thus do even worse in their second go… and then their third go... and thankfully then Papyrus offers them to skip the fight.

And while that technically can be circumvented by just manually closing the game and opening it back again on their pre-battle SAVE Point, a lot of players are gonna reflexively Save over it if they pop over to the Shop or the Snowed Inn before their second attempt at the battle. If Papyrus didn’t offer that chance to skip his battle, it could’ve easily become a softlock situation for a huge chunk of players - because he doesn’t kill the Player.

Most of Undertale deals with the value of non-violence from a standpoint of morality and kindness and personal connections. Since most people do die when they get killed. But when dealing with an Unkillable Time God like the Player, Papyrus proves that not-killing might actually be the most practical solution.

Of course, it doesn’t seem like Papyrus is aware of any of this. From his perspective, he is just offering genuine mercy to a being just as ephemeral as he is. But it accidentally turned into one of the most effective methods of blocking the Player’s way… at least he didn’t offer us an opt out so soon after that. 

And it’s interesting when comparing him to how his brother Sans - one of the few people actually aware of the existence of SAVEs and RESETs - deals with the Player. Because the Sans boss battle at the end of the Murder Route is entirely based on the concept that death is nothing but an annoyance to the Player. Sans is less trying to kill the Player (the way Undyne the Undying did), he is simply trying to annoy the Player into a ragequit. But he is still killing the Player.

Now imagine a Sans battle where he has all of his usual annoying tricks, but also instead of killing you - he captures you just like his brother would’ve in a happier timeline. And while it’s not a fool-proof plan to stop the Player in their tracks - he could very easily stick them in that sort of softlock situation where they have to battle him again and again without any Healing Items. Forcing them to either abandon the game or RESET the whole world back the way it was - just like Sans wants them too. 

But instead, by killing the Player, he is just allowing that perfect second-third-fourth-fifth-sixth-try where they get all of their Stuff back. And he does actually knows that. And why doesn’t he do that? (Speaking here from an in-universe character study perspective. Obviously the Doylist answer is that the game doesn’t want to Softlock you even in the most deliberately-frustrating part of the game).

Maybe, even though he intellectually knows that killing the Player will be of no help - he still does it because he wants to. Because he just wants to get back at the evil murderous monster that took his brother from him and destroyed his entire world even if he knows it’s actually ineffective. And this thirst for bloodshed is, ironically, blinding him from a new exciting way to actually practically stop that murderous bastard who is themself motivated entirely by bloodshed. 

Maybe he just can’t do something like that. Reducing an enemy to exactly one HP and then stopping is not a feat anyone else in the game is capable of pulling off - even the ones who would obviously use such a thing (like Toriel or a Player with a Pacifist intentions). Maybe it’s something that requires a lot of hard practice and discipline and carefulness, that Sans never thought to put in because he didn’t see it as a useful skill the way Papyrus did. 

Maybe that wouldn’t have worked anyways. After all, and that’s something I kinda touched on in a previous Overly Long Rambly Hot Take - Sans’ War of Attrition against the Player is greatly helped by the fact he can’t remember every single previous try and so he can’t get exhausted the way the Player can get. Obviously, without a GAME OVER induced RESET that will not apply. Which is especially notable because… Sans’ laziness is literally what brings him down at the end of that Boss Battle. 

So maybe, while Papyrus, as long as you decline his offer to skip the battle, is capable of offering just the same Battle as before over and over and over again.... It’s possible that Sans just won’t be able to pull off two or three or more battles of the same intensity and difficulty in a row without a RESET to undo his own exhaustion. 

But I think it’s at least worth considering the option, y’know? That after all this time of viewing Papyrus’ kindness as sweet-and-yet-kinda-foolish-naïveté - that exact viewpoint made Sans overlook the perfect solution to dealing with his little Murderous Time God problem. Cause he just never considered that while killing might be fully morally justifiable in this situation and very very satisfying, that does not necessarily mean it is actually the most practical solution. And that maybe, in a weirdly twisted way, Pacifism WAS the answer.  

[alice-angel12x]

What if the twisted wonderland react the MC/Reader have a magical paintbrush just like epic mickey games?

Also this is yuu's paintbrush looks like btw

Yuu! Epic Mickey Twisted Wonderland

Here's a fun art peice I did cause the image was so fun.

Overblot boys (Riddle, Leona, Azul, and Jamil) React to Epic Mickey!Yuu

I remember when I first created Forgotten Wasteland, and how my apprentice made a mess of it all. While I am glad he repaired all the damage he has done, I couldn't trust him to not let his mischievous curiosity get the better of him. So I took up my magical brush and created a helper or a protector. They would keep watch and protect the toons of wasteland. They were an excellent student, they quickly mastered the magic of the brush. If only my other student was this obedient. (Geez Yen Sid, biased much).

Master Yen Sid watched Yuu gently and with a calculated stroke of the bush on the wasteland. The old wise wizard nodded with approval.

"You have done well," Yen Sid said as he gave a pat on Yuu's head.

Yuu smiled softly when they noticed their master holding his hand out, asking for his paintbrush back. They handed the wizards the brush, and suddenly began to dip it into the paint. Where he began to wave the brush in the air, creating something. Something big.

With a final stroke, there before him was a beautiful paintbrush. It was almost Yuu's height, as the wizard handed them the gift.

"Be very careful with this magic. With great strength, comes even greater responsibility. This is not something to play with willy-nilly," Yen Sid said sternly.

"Yes, Master Yen Sid. I promise to use this power for good," Yuu said, trying to contain their excitement.

"I know you will. I can see great things from you," Yen Sid said with a small smile. "Take good care of Wasteland."

If only Yen Sid knew, that his favorite pupil would vanish from under his nose. They would somehow end up in a place called Twisted Wonderland.

------------------------------------------

💗Riddle RoseHeart 💗

Before the blot:

When he first meets Yuu, he doesn't really take them seriously. Since the mirror says they are not a magic user.

He thinks the large paintbrush Yuu carries around is really inconvenient. And Does not look forward to all the potential mess it could bring.

After/during Blot:

Overblot Riddle struggled in the battle with Yuu. The most annoying thing they did was paint his rose bushes Blue, turning them against him.

Turns out Yuu and their magic paintbrush weren't as useless as Riddle assumed.

Yuu's finishing blow was a good whack to the head, dousing Riddle and the ink phantom with a powerful stream of thinner, erasing the blotted ink instantly.

Leaving an unblotted Riddle behind. Though Yuu gave Riddle one last splash of thinner for safe measure.

Leaving a crying drenched mess.

After fixing that, they left all of Heartslybuyal in awe as they watched the thinner in the brush turn to blue paint. And with many strokes of the brush, the unbirthday party was restored.

After that Riddle had a lot more respect for Yuu, and was a lot more curious of what else Yuu could do with their brush.

____________________________________

🦁Leona Kingscholar 🦁

Before Blot:

He could have cared less about this person. He thought they looked ridiculous with their giant brush. On top of that, they were magicless.

However, he did note that this new student smelt strange. Yet he paid them no mind.

After/during Blot:

Leona had a bit of an easier time against Yuu, cause of the howling sandstorm. Making it difficult for Yuu to toss the Thinner on the phantom and the inkblot.

So with the help of the first-year squad, moved upwind and with this. Yuu blasted Leona with a wave of magic Thinner.

The phantom quickly resolved, and Leona could only stare in shock as the Thinner swept him away.

Of course, they made sure to drench Leona in thinner to be sure all the inkblot was gone.

After the whole event, he was strangely enough. interested in going against the Ramshackle team. Even if it wasn't an official match.

He would smirk in interest as Yuu used their magic brush to create a flying broom for themselves. And some Toon as extra players for the team.

____________________________________

Azul Ashengrotto

Before Blot:

He was amused at most, like why would any person carry such a cumbersome thing around.

And they were magicless on top of that. What an odd individual. But for the most part, also didn't pay much attention.

Till the idea of obtaining the Ramshackle dorm. At first the ain't brush was interesting, but he simply assumed that it was some weird decoration.

Yet he did notice Yuu's strange hesitance of water. Specifically the idea of being in water. Azul would happily take advantage of Yuu's fears.

After/during Blot:

This was a frustrating battle for both fighters. Since Azul can keep spewing ink, just as much as Yuu can remove it.

But with the help of allies and friends, Yuu was able to wash away all the ink with their brush and thinner. With a good whack, to bring Azul back to his senses.

Even after the battle, Yuu seemed to refuse to go near the water. A phobia maybe, Azul thought to himself.

Azul is indeed interested in Yuu's power but finds them confusing too. Yuu wants to see the world under the waves, yet refuses to go anywhere near the water.

He tries to ask Jade and Floyd what they know about this student. But not even they could dig anything up about them.

____________________________________

Jamil Viper

Before Blot:

He honestly could care less about them in the start.

He sees them as a perfect pawn to overthrow Kalim. Jamil also notices Yuu's strange fear of water, even if it is in rain form.

But whatever it took to knock Kalim down, he did not care much. Though he did learn some interesting things about them. After using Snake whisper on them.

After/during Blot:

Yuu surprised attacked him, doused him in Thinner, and quickly took him down. Much to Jamil's emmerassement.

Last time he underestimates a person with a giant brush.

During the party in the desert, he saw Yuu sitting in the shade of the trees away from the oasis.

So he sat next to them. "So... Is it true you're made out of paint?"

Part 2, or a focus on one character at a time to have a mini story. (cause I have basically a fan fic Idea in my empty brain)

[fatuismooches]

pulchra mendacium.

synopsis: Prime Dottore fell in the final battle against Celestia, and the shock caused you to lose your memories. Omega plans to take his place, or more specifically, take you.

includes: dottore (omega) w/ gn! reader

notes: Based on a brainrot of mine. Omega becomes "Zandik" because he wants you. There's fluff but he is basically lying to you the whole time and selfishly justifying his actions. I'm ngl this fic kinda flopped halfway through because I wanted it to be longer but I also lost motivation but didn't want to scrap it, so sorry if it's messy </3.

Despite being Dottore’s most advanced and strongest segment, with power and intelligence that left most people fearful, clearly the best one among the lot - when Omega gazed upon you, there were times when he sorely remembered his true identity in the end.

He was a segment, and his creator was the original.

It was a sentiment shared among all the segments, and he was no different. Despite all the love and attention you gave them, it could never truly compare or feel the same as when you did it to Prime. He came first in your heart, and it was an unspoken, obvious truth. None of the segments were fond of this irrefutable fact of course, but what else could they do but understand their place and be content with what they were given? None dared to overstep their boundaries.

The Omega segment was the exception.

He had always teetered dangerously on the edge when it came to you, taking slightly more of you than he was allowed. Everything he attempted was always strategically done and within reason, he was no fool, after all. And being such a high-ranking segment, it wasn’t like Prime could afford to do anything too harsh.

Still, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Nothing was enough when it came to you - he selfishly desired all of you to himself. But there were things that even Omega couldn’t cross. Even he had to settle, something uncharacteristic of the man who pursued his interests without faltering. However, he was a patient man. Patience will eventually bring results, no matter how long that may be.

As Omega anticipated, his patience paid off, but not in the way he predicted.

—

The war against Celestia was victorious, but it had come at a terrible price, one you weren’t ready to pay.

Of course, everyone knew that it would be hard-won. Freedom was never easily earned. No amount of preparation could truly prepare anyone for heading into that battle. You yourself were terrified, but you steadied yourself by imagining peaceful days ahead with Dottore. Peaceful days of basking in the sun, your biggest worry being what should be for dinner tonight, no longer having to worry about the illness that plagued your body. You would teach him how to sleep in since his continuous experiments and paperwork would no longer be necessary. He would reteach you the wonders of being healthy again.

Unfortunately, your husband died right in front of you. You were right there, but you were powerless to do anything. You would have never thought this would happen, not the strong and intelligent scientist you loved, how could he fall?

Your Zandik. Your precious Zandik. The Zandik you promised to live out a lifetime of happy days with. He was gone, and you were all alone, all those happy years ahead of you were robbed.

Well, Omega, the last remaining segment and version of Dottore left in his world, had survived with you. But it wasn’t like you could really think or care about that right now, no, the loss of Zandik was far too devastating. After the war concluded, you thought you would be rebuilding your home with your husband. Instead, you were locked inside your room, refusing to come out. Omega was the only one who tended to you - the other Harbingers were either dead, too busy, or not close enough to see you.

Still, it wasn’t as if he was granted any attention. The segment’s words fell on deaf ears, whether you let him touch you or not had become an uncertain chance. And yet Omega was undeterred. With his creator gone, there was no one left to take care of you, the responsibility solely on his shoulders. Not that he minded of course - he’d done it for centuries, it wasn’t any different now. Even if you didn’t spare a glance at him, things would continue to go on. Time would always move forward, and he would remain by your side, waiting for the day when you’d smile at him again.

Most of all, Omega still loved you, even if he knew you’d never love him back as much as you did with Prime.

—

The segment had run through many possibilities of how you’d come to terms with your grief, but the situation he witnessed right now was not one of them.

From the moment he walked into your room to feed you your breakfast, he could tell something was wrong from how wide your eyes were, the confused furrow of your eyebrows, and how you were investigating your room. The two of you paused at each other’s presence before you backed more into the wall as if to guard yourself from him. Your lips parted, shoulders shaking in slight fear.

“Umm… W-Who are you…? And where… where exactly am I?” You looked at him nervously, unsure of what he could do.

Memory loss.

Well, even the ever-calculating segment didn’t see this coming. Immediately, many things ran through his mind. How, why? Did the sheer grief and loss trigger this? Most likely. Could you get your memory back? Maybe. It couldn’t be impossible. Plus, he was unsure as to what memories you lost in particular. What would be the best course of action so as to not frighten you even more? That would be-

“Hello…? Please answer me,” your voice was timid and unsure, heart beating in your chest.

“… Do you truly not remember me?” You shook your head in response. Omega paused before carefully selecting his next words.

“I am your husband.” Your eyes widened slightly at the declaration before narrowing again in disbelief, obviously unsure of the truth of his statement, but he continued on. “You’ve seen the pictures on your desk, as well as the ring on your finger. If you would like to see mine, I shall retrieve it.” (In truth, that was Prime’s ring, but it wouldn’t hurt to borrow it.)

It was true. In the strange room you woke up in, your desk was filled with pictures of an unfamiliar blue-haired man, that was the spitting image of the one you saw before you. The pictures held fond moments, most notably a wedding one, and you did not question how the mask was different considering the great similarity in appearance. Both of you looked at each other with great gentleness.

“And this is your room in our house. We have lived together for years.” It was a good thing that even though the Fatui disbanded, he still kept his mansion. Still, naturally, you looked unsure. Omega sought to remedy your worries, as he always did.

“Do you remember your name, by chance?” You nodded and quietly replied with it. “And what about your preferences? Favorite food? Season? Hobby?” You took a few moments to ponder before nodding your head. At least you seemed to remember yourself, Omega observed. Could the memory loss only apply to anything related to Dottore?

“Very well. Now, ask me things about yourself, especially things you think no one else would know. Surely that would prove how long I’ve known you.” You had to agree with that - of course there’d be secrets you’d tell no one except for a select few. And so you hesitantly started listing off some questions, to which the blue-haired man immediately answered without a second thought. For some of them, he even responded before you got through the question! How did he know you so well…? Guess he really was the real deal, but you turned your gaze to the floor, confusion and sadness still lingering on your expression.

“But how come I don’t remember? … What happened to me? What am I going to do now? How will I- will I ever remember?” Tears started to well in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around yourself, truly coming to terms with the situation. Omega only stared at you, his mind still thinking of the possible implications of this situation, but his first priority right now was to comfort you.

“May I approach you?” Your lip quivered, still a bit uneasy about him, but you nodded. Quietly, he made his way over to you, his tall stature hovering over yours. His hand rested on your shoulder and you stiffened momentarily. To be honest, you thought you’d be uncomfortable with it, but for some reason, it felt a bit reassuring. The man then wrapped his arms around you, your head resting on his chest.

“I’ll stay by your side and help you with those questions, and whatever more you need,” Omega wiped a threatening tear from your eyes before it could roll down your cheek. You don’t know why you instinctively felt a bit better, or why his warmth felt so nice.

“Your touch feels familiar.”

“Does it?” You nodded slightly.

“I can’t remember anything about you… but it feels comforting.”

“I’m glad, then.”

“You never told me your name…” You looked up at him, still lost but a trace of hope lingered.

It was in those few moments where Omega made a decision.

He had always known he’d never be what Prime was to you. The segment was smart enough not to fool himself into thinking the opposite. Still, he wondered how it’d feel for you to love him even a fraction of how much you loved the original. It was a tempting feeling. Very, very, tempting… he continued to think.

Perhaps he could become Prime. Perhaps he could become Zandik. Perhaps this was where his selfish desires overtook his rationality. 

Logically, if he did that, he would be lying to you about a few key things. And there was the chance you could regain your full memories. There was the issue with his mechanical face too…

However, you would be happy to live out the life you always wanted. He would fulfill the things you wanted to do with Prime instead. Yes, he vividly remembered when you’d tell him all the things you wanted to do when you were healthy. Of course, he would get the love and treatment he’d always selfishly longed for. This would be beneficial for both of you. And so, the segment parted his lips to give you his answer.

“My name is Zandik.”

—

What followed afterward was what he had expected to happen.

There were a lot of things you wanted to ask and yet you felt awkward and as lost as you could be, knowing he was the only link to the world you had anymore. He could feel your flickering glances repeatedly, throat dry as you inquired.

“You said you are my husband, right?”

“Yes.”

“So… that means you l-love me then…?”

“That’s also right.” You fidgeted with your fingers awkwardly, pondering what you should say next.

“If I am correct, you mean to tell me you do not feel any sort of affection for me, yes?” You rubbed your head shyly.

“… I am sorry.” When you looked at the blue-haired man, you couldn’t feel any sort of love for him, although his touch felt familiar. And although you had your own big problems to worry about, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Zandik, having to deal with his beloved not remembering a single thing about him. But he merely shrugged.

“Given the circumstances, it is only natural. We can worry about that later.” However, despite your worries, he seemed pretty calm and collected.

“So… about my memories. You’re gonna tell me about them, right? And you?”

“I could,” he began, “but I have a better idea.” You sent him a confused look. “In the past, many times you’ve told me that you wished to go back to Sumeru to live. Would you still like to do that?” You blinked at Zandik before a look of realization crossed your face.

“Sumeru… yes, Sumeru! My home… why am I even in Snezhnaya in the first place?” A large hand on your shoulder quelled your incoming anxiety.

“I’ll explain soon. But do you want to return with me?”

“I… do.” Even though you hadn’t gone outside yet, you think you’d prefer to live under that familiar sun rather than trudging through the snow daily.

Omega already knew what your answer would be. You had always wanted to go back and live an uncaring, domestic life with Prime after the war, but obviously, you never had the opportunity. It was what you deserved - so many years you were stuck in the lab.

He then approached you, cautiously taking your hand in his. “I believe the sights will help you regain some of what you’ve lost.” You couldn’t disagree with that, and soon enough you two were on a boat to Sumeru, though you weren’t sure why the employees were looking at you and your husband so oddly. 

—

The way Sumeru looked so different yet similar to the way you remembered it at your head reeling. You knew for a fact the architecture was not like this.

But what you didn’t understand more was how Zandik managed to get a cozy home completely furnished to your liking in such a nice spot so quickly, but you didn’t question it much. Your husband gave off an aura of importance, perhaps he was good at pulling strings… however he did. More strangely was how calm he was about the situation. If the roles were reversed, you’d probably be crying with stress and sadness. But he looked as if everything was turning out fine… You weren’t sure if that made you less or more worried, though the perfect drink he made you eased you of your troubles a bit.

“So… um, Zandik,” your husband’s name rolled off your tongue easily, perhaps because of how much you uttered it in the past. You didn’t notice how he tensed for a split second, still adapting to his new name. “Are you going to tell me everything?” Omega hummed in response.

“Would you be upset if I delayed it once again?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“… I’m beginning to wonder what I was thinking marrying such a strange man. Any normal person would be, I don’t know, fumbling over themselves to help me remember some things. I question your motives.” 

“I can assure you that I mean well. I merely want to increase the chances of you remembering.”

“… Well, go on, Zandik.” He smiled at you. Your heart felt a bit funny at that.

“Come with me.” All of a sudden he clasped your hand in his and began leading you out of the door.

“Where are we going?” You glanced down to your joined hands with Zandik. He was warm. Unusually so. You… liked it.

“Where we first met.” 

—

“We met at the Akademiya?” You did remember gazing upon the grand building as a child, but you were sure it looked way different than this. And all the shops too, there was nothing here that you remembered.

“Indeed we did,” he led you into the institution, an area where non-students were allowed to come and ago. “We were both students here a very long time ago.” Although he may not have personally experienced it, he still had all the memories of Prime. Pretending was easy.

“Really?” You squinted at the lights, gazing at the architecture that looked unfamiliar. You briefly remember getting in, but it felt like there was a hole blocking something important in your brain.

“Yes. The first time I met you, I thought you were a nuisance.” You nearly tripped at his blatantly rude statement and sent a mixture of a shocked and offended look to him.

“What?” Omega smirked. “I thought you wanted the truth.”

“I didn’t think my husband would think so crudely of me…”

“Well, when I met you I was not your husband. I was just a student who thought you were a pain in my side.” You huffed, but you found yourself oddly intrigued by his words.

“But why?” Omega paused before he responded.

“It didn’t have anything to do with you. I simply disliked the company of most people. But you were persistent in bothering me.”

“How come?”

“According to your words, you said I was too ‘intelligent and cute to resist.’” You cleared your throat awkwardly.

“I-Is that so?”

“It is,” your husband grinned at you.

“So then what?” You two sat down, watching busy students rush past each other.

“You signed up to dorm with me, much to my displeasure. I ignored you for a long time and treated you rather harshly.”

“And I put up with that?”

“You did indeed. I thought you were crazy myself. But then I started to warm up to you. I realized your strength. Your intelligence. Even your beauty, which I had not cared for on anyone before I met you.”

“… I see.” His words left your face a little hot. Alright, now you could see why past you fell for him. He was certainly a smooth talker with a handsome face. However…

“I still can’t remember anything,” you murmured regretfully.

“That’s alright. I remember every moment that we spent together,” he said matter of factly, which you found strange, but you rolled with it anyway.

“Please, continue then,” you urged him.

The rest of the day was spent with Akademiya students sending odd looks at you two actively chatting, a scene quite reminiscent of centuries ago.

—

For a while, you woke up to the delicious smell of coffee. It seemed that it was one of the only things he was capable of making. You’d hypothesized that he probably couldn’t cook because he was buying food for all your meals… you weren’t complaining though. But for some reason, you had hardly seen him eat. It was only when you offered for him to join you that he seemed interested. There was also the issue of his mask - he never took it off… maybe he was self-conscious? You didn’t really know but also didn’t know how to approach the subject. 

It also appeared that Zandik was an early riser - or maybe you just liked to sleep in too much. And yet, he never disturbed you from your rest, patiently waiting for you to wake. Whatever request you’d have, he would fulfill it efficiently with no errors. Whenever you’d break down, he would be by your side immediately and somehow comforting you exactly in the way you needed. He could be a listening ear, a reassuring shoulder, a voice of advice… it was almost unnerving how perfect he was being for you.

However, despite all his kindness… your memory simply could not remember anything. Even when he told you the whole four hundred years of sickness story, nothing clicked in your head…

“It’s regrettable that you do not remember anything,” Omega lied. He had always been cunning, to say the least. It took little effort to conveniently write his lesser selves out of the story and make it seem like he was your one and only. Of course, he left out the human experimenting and all. He didn’t want to scare you off right now. 

Although, he did feel pity at your downcast look. He did not enjoy seeing you sad of course, nor did he like lying to you, but it would only last a while in the grand scheme of things, because he would take care of you as you deserved.

“Mhm… at least I have you, Zandik,” you sighed. Over the course of months upon months, you had come to grow fond of your husband. Aside from the memory situation, he indulged you in things you had always wanted to do. 

The two of you had started a small garden (you were pleasantly surprised when he first brought it up) and spent mornings and nights tending to it together. Stray cats and birds somehow showed up at your doorstep (they were strangely affectionate toward Zandik) and you fed them together. He joined you on your new hobbies (how could he knit that fast?) too. He helped you prep ingredients whenever you cooked but didn’t go further than that “for your own safety,” in his words…

All in all, you could definitely understand why younger you stayed with him forever, and why present you was beginning to long for him in a deeper manner.

“Regardless, I appreciate all you have done for me,” you thanked him while clearing your throat awkwardly, and scooching closer to him on the grass. Sumeru’s evenings could get cold sometimes. You didn’t meet Zandik’s gaze and instead kept it focused on the setting sun. Amazingly enough, the island in the sky that had always been there was no longer to be seen. The sky was clear and beautiful, something you never thought you’d see. Zandik decided to tear his gaze from you too and look up, although he placed his hand on top of yours as you stiffened in surprise.

“Perhaps this isn’t so bad. I can court you properly, forgetting all the times I acted foolishly before.” You warmed at his suggestion.

“Such as?”

“Locking you out of the dorm for one.”

“Wow, you were pretty horrible, huh?” You couldn’t help but laugh and he quietly chuckled as well. “But…” you squeezed his large hand, “I would like that,” you admitted. “I hope to remember everything eventually, but… it would be nice to start over with you.” Omega perked up in delight at your confession, his mind racing with all the ways he would make you fall in love with him again.

“However, I do have one request.”

“Tell me.” Shyly, you raised your hand to his cheek and stroked it, which was softer than you expected. 

“I would like to know the face of the man I’m about to kiss.”

Omega knew this was coming. He had put it off as long as he could, but it was only natural you’d get curious about his face. In all honesty, he was slightly unsure of what your reaction would be. It was very possible for you to be scared. At his hesitation, you quickly spoke again.

“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t need to,” you backtracked, “Although… it would make it happy to see who you really are, Zandik.” Omega sighed in response.

“My appearance may be offputting. Are you sure?”

“Of course! If past me could deal with it, why couldn’t present me do it?” You smiled, playfully pulling at his cheek to which he batted you away.

“As you wish.” In an instant, what stared back at you was a gleaming red star, no eyes to be found. You blinked, speechless. You weren’t really sure what you were expecting, really, but still.

“Over the centuries, I modified myself to the point I was no longer human,” Omega explained. It wasn’t totally off the mark.

“I kind of had a feeling you weren’t human. I mean, what kind of human can survive only off sweets for breakfast the whole day?” You joked as your fingers went to brush against his metal plate, missing how he sucked in his breath, staying silent.

“This doesn’t bother me, Zandik. I’m happy you showed me. I know I must have chosen you in the past for a reason, regardless of what happened. And I want to stay with you.”

“… I share the sentiment,” Omega replied, senses focused on how close you were. He took hold of your hand and placed it on his lips instead, watching how you inhaled at his boldness. Swallowing away your nervousness, you took his invitation and moved your face closer to his, dropping your hand to lay against his chest instead. Shakily, you finally pressed your lips against his, and your husband immediately took control and pushed you onto the grass, making you gasp.

Finally, you were his.

All his.

—

From then on, the days were as peaceful as you once desired. You two slept in as much as you wanted. You two would bask in the sun and cool off in the shade. You would worry about what was for dinner (even though Zandik didn’t need to eat.) He would take you to hidden places in Sumeru frequently, watching as you brightened at the beauty of the land, and then give him an equally as beautiful look.

These looks were different from the ones who gave him all those years ago. You weren’t falling in love with a mere segment of Zandik, you were falling in love with “Zandik” himself. It was an entirely different experience. 

It was wonderful.

Your touches were lavished upon his skin only, your sweet and encouraging words for his ears only. No longer did you need to direct any attention toward those who were less than him. And in return, he would love you better than any of them ever could. It was bliss…

… But of course, he should have expected an obstacle or two.

“I never thought I would see you back in this nation, at least not like this,” a familiar, young voice sounded behind him one day, one that he once bargained with a long time ago.

“… Lesser Lord Kusanali. I must say, I’m surprised it took you this long to visit. You’ve been observing me, haven’t you?” He hummed, uncaring of the God’s presence, continuing to water his plants.

“I have, ever since you stepped foot into Sumeru. You didn’t even try to hide it.”

“Of course. Since you’ve been watching me so thoroughly, then you must know, I have no intentions of causing any harm.” Nahida was silent. The fact that he was telling the truth was still jarring for her. However, that wasn’t why she was here.

“What you’re doing is entirely selfish. I thought you cared for them.” The God knew about what had transpired all those years ago and was able to roughly guess what the segment was doing. Omega scoffed in response.

“Of course I do. That’s why I’ve ascertained that this is the best possible solution.” You were happy like this, enjoying life to its fullest. Before, you were stuck listless and lifeless in a room all day. Surely, the former was the better option, even if he had to withhold some things from you…

“The best solution for you,” she corrected Omega, eyes narrowing. “This is all a lie you’ve crafted to fulfill your selfish desires and-” Before the Dendro God could finish her sentence, Dottore’s segment stood up, looming over her.

“Lesser Lord Kusanali, I would think that someone as busy as yourself would have other things to do than to probe into another’s business,” he dismissed her criticism. “I have been with them for centuries. They have shared everything with me. I know what’s best for them.” So what if it was a lie? It was a beautiful one, was it not? It kept you glowing, happy to wake up every morning, and grateful to rest at night with him.

Perhaps it was wrong of him to hope your memories never truly returned.

But with you smiling at him so sweetly every single day, all the love you could muster reflecting in your gentle gaze, Omega continued to believe he was right.