#But of what I do know

[aka-indulgence]

Illithid Kiss

So I caved. Immediately. Mind flayers are hot, bite me

Thanks to @llamagoddessofficial for showing me 1 (one) image of bg3 mind flayer and immediately going AWOOGA

Yes I made an ao3 link, I ‘ve been taken over help

(Mind flayer x Female!Reader

Mind flayer goes by he/him)

Vaussur took you in as his thrall for what feels like a long time ago. Despite being a mind flayer, for his kind, he had surprise you at every turn, acting unlike how you expected an illithid to act- like how the rest of the mind flayers in his hive acts. Lenient and forgiving with you, letting you roam with your mind free (for the most part), you find yourself unexpectedly getting attached to him.

What do you do, when all of a sudden your mind flayer ‘master’ asks you to tell him about human love? When he asks you to show him more directly? And most importantly…

Would you kiss a mind flayer?

Content warning: Mind control involved (consensual), suggestive themes, master/servant romantic relationship

—————

“Tell me, pet. What does it mean to love like a human?”

You’re snapped out of your musings at the voice, echoing both through the room and chambers in your mind. You look away from the window, from the alien society outside. Vaussur was looming behind you, a curious glow in his eyes that looked soft, somehow.

In the shadows of the room he looked ominous, almost spine-chilling. Illithid armour glinting in the faint light, while the rest of his body was merely a silhouette save for his glowing, golden irises. It reminded you of stories people back home used to tell you when you were young: to close and lock the doors at night and close the windows lest a monster sneak into the room. You didn’t know what a mind flayer was, back then, but seeing him now, he fits the stories perfectly.

Yet, he keeps surprising you with his curious mannerisms- his strange questions. You turn to face your ‘master’.

“Why do you ask?”

“As you might guess, it’s not something I can speak of amongst other illithids,” he says matter-of-factly, with a bit of humor in his eyes. “But its still something I’m personally interested in, nonetheless.”

You giggle. “What do you mean? Do you study humans?”

Mind flayers don’t have mouths. But from the way his tentacles moved, it almost looks like Vaussur was smiling at the sound of your giggle. But he answers seriously.

“I have been, as of late.” He gives you a meaningful glance. “Of course, illithids are the superior race and our ways of living are equally superior. … But I find myself becoming curious. We don’t have such customs in our society, and what I’m about to say is unbecoming for a mind flayer, but…”

You look at him curiously as he struggles to speak his words.

“I… envy you.” He whispers. “You have no idea how exquisite your mind tastes, my dear thrall. … How tender, the sweetness in every drop of thought in that delectable mind of yours, the warmth and comfort your memories radiate… You come from a world where a small, innocent, kind thing like yourself could flourish and bloom- thrive, even. How can such a world exist?”

The way he describes your mind in frightening and alien detail, reminds you of what he is- an illithid, a being that literally has a taste for brains. But even so, the way he described yours, though a little unsettling, almost sounds like a poem, words woven carefully just for you. Try as you might, it sounds like a compliment to you.

“W-well,” you stutter, staggered by his flowery words- coming from a being that has never seen much of life in the sun. “I think humans are more social than mind flayers. You communicate out of necessity, working together like a hivemind for the elder brain… right?”

“Right. You remembered what I told you? Smart pet, you prove me again and again why you’re my favorite thrall.”

“Um!” Being called a thrall wasn’t flattering, but still you feel your mind spin from the praise. “Thank- thank you. As I was saying, humans communicate and cooperate too, but we don’t do it just out of necessity. We find joy in the comfort of other humans- and other beings too, if they’ve formed a bond. We do it because we like it. We make bonds with people in our families and our communities, for companionship and… sometimes more. We can work alone, but most suffer from being solitary.”

You don’t know what kind of love Vaussur was asking you for, but you thought keeping it general was a good start at least. And the safest option, considering the other possibility.

“Interesting… not unlike illithids.” He comments.

“Really? How so?”

“As a non mind-flayer, you would not know this, but… it’s very unhealthy for a mind flayer to be completely alone.” You raise your eyebrows in surprise while Vaussur continues. “No elder brain, no other illithids, no thralls. Mind flayers are surrounded and connected by thoughts. To strip the familiar away from them… I’ve heard stories where they’ve gone mad.”

“Wait- mind flayers can go mad?”

“Of course. We are superior but not perfect- even I can admit that. Mind flayers can’t thrive in isolation, we must rely on another living being. It’s a disgrace for a mind flayer to accept it, let alone admit it- especially to admit they rely on thralls so heavily beyond labor.”

“I didn’t know that.” You remarked, seeing the illithids in a new light. Most of what you’ve heard from when mind flayers were merely myths and legends, and from what you’ve seen directly from their society indicates that they’re a self-sufficient, self-aggrandizing people. To know they could be attached to anything other than themselves, or at least to their elder brain… and Vaussur had so easily conceded this information to you.

“Wait, if it was a disgrace, why are you admitting this to me right now?”

“Because I’m no different. And it is no disgrace to say that I need you to stay with me.”

Your mouth hangs open at his honest confession, like it was factual. You try to ignore the little flips your stomach is doing, and whether or not it was a good feeling.

“I’ve also heard that there are different types of love. Platonic and romantic, I think they’re called.”

“Yes, yes there is, it’s-” you stop yourself, even as you quieten the excitement in your chest at the mention of the other type of love (to your puzzlement). “How do you know about that?”

“During my time on a ​​reconnaissance mission. I was looking for possibles hosts to implant with tadpole.”

You fail to hide the distaste on your face at the mention of ceremorphosis. If Vaussur saw it, he doesn’t react.

“I heard them talking about it. I think they were discussing whether what they felt for each other was one form or the other. Their discussion about the romantic one became particularly charged.”

He refocuses on you, and eagerly asks, “What is… romantic love?”

He was trying to sound calm and analytical but you could hear it: excitement. But why would a mind flayer be so interested in romance, of all things?

“It’s… like I said earlier,” you swallowed. You don’t know why you felt so bashful about it, like you were in a group of children talking about your parents kissing like it was a scandal. “It’s when people have more… intimate relationships with another. It’s not very different from platonic love, but different nonetheless. It’s…”

How do you explain romantic love to someone who doesn’t know what it is? How is it different from platonic love? Just having to explain what love is to him proved itself quite confusing to you, as the more you tried to grasp the definition of love to you, the more it slipped away.

“It’s like…” you grasp again, “romantic love is when you meet another person, and you feel a, a… a spark. It’s more intense than platonic love, where you just feel this… attraction to the other person, where you want to be as close to them as possible, and just their presence can make you really happy. You do things with them things you wouldn’t do with any other people you have in your life, intimate things. Someone you want to share your life with.”

You feel a little helpless as you clasp your hands together, trying to convey what you think love looks like to someone who’s never experienced it. Even with your loose explanation, Vaussur is rapt with fascination, his luminous glare unblinking. 

“I’m sorry if this is confusing to you…”

He shakes his head. “That’s more knowledge than any mind flayer knows. And… if it proves hard for you, pet, maybe you should show it to me.”

“I… show it?”

You were about to ask how, but as soon as you thought that, a word echoes in your mind.

With a kiss.

Your eyes widen, and unfortunately, it looks like your mind was loud enough for Vaussur to notice.

Without skipping a beat, he asks you, “Can you… show that to me? Kissing?”

Added with his forwardness, you fluster, but you try to calm yourself. Vaussur is a mind flayer. He’s never experienced any kind of love, let alone romantic. He really is just curious, he’s not trying to charm you… right?

You try to explain it to him.

“I c-could, but… kissing you would be more… romantic. One of the intimate things people do together to be romantic.” You said that twice. Your mind is tripping over itself. “You have to- no, you should do it with someone you care about deeply, the one you want to keep in your life. At least, that’s how you make it more meaningful.”

Vaussur doesn’t speak, not immediately. A strange look washes over his face, his brows furrowing. Subconsciously, he brings his hand to a tentacle, stroking it thoughtfully.

“I don’t see the problem. That describes how I feel about you perfectly.”

Everything goes quiet for you.

… “What?”

Vaussur doesn’t skip a beat.

“That’s how I’ve felt about you since I took you as my thrall. That is not a strange concept. I’m intimately familiar with that feeling.” He pauses. “Unless this is hesitation because I’m a mind flayer.”

“I- no that’s not it,” you say, the ice freezing your tongue melting. “It’s, I just- do you… love… me?”

“Perhaps. If that really what love is, then yes. But illithids don’t have ‘romance’ or ‘love’. So I need you to show me what it is.”

You shake your head, you can’t believe the situation you’re in, looking at the floor. The mind flayer that’s called you his thrall might very well love you- even be in love for you. People have described mind flayers as soulless, one of the defining characteristics they were often associated with, something you’d accepted as fact, until you were captured by one. Despite his illithid tendencies, the air of superiority, lack of care for non illithid lives, and strange fascination with brains; for what he is, Vaussur’s acted with more humanity than what you imagined a mind flayer was capable of.

You’ve noticed that most of your favorite qualities in him come out when you have his attention.

Though he’s always been imposing and quite frightening, you can’t believe that you’ve… thought what it’d be like to kiss him. At times when he seems to go against his natural instincts, like keeping you away from the feedings, how he praises you when he defends you from other mind flayers, how you were precious to him, and the way he held you protectively whenever you needed to cross their domain.

You’re amazed at yourself when you answer him with “... Alright.”

When you pick your head up from your musings, you startle from how close he was to you. You could see the patterns in his illithid armor, the intricate swirls and spirals, turning to complicated geometries as they reach the edge of the armor, extending from what looks like a mind flayer skull in the middle of the collar area. Long, dark purple robes extend from underneath, covering most of Vaussur’s skin. You withhold the urge to trace your fingers over the shapes.

You look up, way up. You were no stranger to this- even among mind flayers, Vaussur was particularly tall. He loomed over you, your head only reaching somewhere in the middle of his chest, and you’d have to crane your neck whenever he commanded you. But now, with the prospect of… kissing him, he seems all the more imposing. The closes thing you could to kissing him properly would probably be on one of tentacle.

“Um…”

Vaussur makes a strange sound, a sound that tickles your brain. A laugh…?

Before you could worry about what you were about to do, you feel a magic presence all around you, like someone was holding you. Your feet lift off the floor as you’re picked up by his psionic energy, bringing you face to face with him. There’s expectance in his burning gaze, something that makes you feel small and defenseless. You feel his thoughts seeping into your mind, mixing with yours: the want to be closer, of warm affection… and something possessive. You’re not sure if he’s trying to make you feel the same things for him, or if he’s simply communicating with you the way a mind flayer would with each other. It scares you a little, especially feeling his more foreign emotions- but whatever it is, you know he’s being genuine. You don’t sense a hint of malice in all the rush of feelings he’s emanating.

Despite your timidity, you can’t say those feelings were wholly unpleasant. You find you’re actually leaning into it, closing your eyes to try to feel it coursing through you. When you open them, you find the courage to brace your hands on his plated shoulders. Brilliant citrine eyes glance down at them, and you realize how small they must look to him.

Your brows furrow a little as you look for a good place to… kiss an illithid. Your fingers curl, and you try to position your head a bit to the side. You could feel him watching your every move, and you swallow.

You lean in. You could smell him, somewhat like vanilla and something else, and you’re surprised that you like it. Your lips press to the side of his face, above two of his tentacles, and kiss him. Vaussur closes his eyes and hums- you could feel him physically and mentally relax. His skin was strange, smooth and slick with a thin film of something; but you didn’t dislike it.

You pull back, parting with a little cup! as you did. Vaussur looks a little more… floaty, like he was dreaming.

“... Can you do that again?” He murmurs

You purse your lips together, hands letting go to twiddle your fingers, not quite knowing where to look.

Apparently Vaussur takes your hesitation negatively.

“I feel your nervousness, puppet. What’s the matter? … Did you not like it?”

You didn’t know mind flayers could even sound hurt, but he did, though he tried to hide it from you.

“No, no!” you stressed, “I’m just! It’s! … I’m just… shy.”

His eyes widen. You know what he must be reading from your mind right now: curiosity, interest, maybe even… fondness.

When you look at his mouth you feel a mix of emotions. Were you afraid? Were you excited…?  … No you don’t want ot think of what that meant, it’s too much. You stare for his mouth a moment longer while you try to gain the courage to kiss him.

You decided to work up to it.

Your hand reaches for a tentacle tentatively.

“Can I…? Touch your..?”

The tentacle flexes. Vaussur seems clueless as to what you want to do with it, but he lets you have it.

You give it a feather light touch, tracing a finger down its length. You realize how… sensual this feels, and you wonder if mind flayers ever enjoyed the pleasures of the body…? If they could? Vaussus gasps quietly, the tentacle reacting to your touch, twitching closer to you.

You’ve found yourself imagining what it was like to stroke his tentacles, of what would happen. Vaussur closes his eyes, letting you run your hand down. It’s smooth and slick with illithid mucous, cool to the touch, almost slippery. You think you like it. The other tentacles start to curl and sway closer around you, as if looking for your attention. You feel a sudden sense of pride fill you, at the effect you had on this mind flayer, just by touching him lightly.

His tentacles start their own exploration of you; timidly at first, but they quickly gain confidence and start to lavish you with tender caresses. One prods and brushes your cheek. Another traces along your collarbone curiously. The third free tentacle slides behind your back and holds you steady. The one you’re holding- clearly enjoying what you’re doing to it, curls around your arm.

You tittered. It’s like they had minds of their own. You wondered… what would happen if you kissed him on the tentacle?

You lift it up to you and give it a gentle peck.

Apparently, they were sensitive because as soon as you did, claws closed around your back and hips and pulled you flush against Vaussur’s chest, squeaking as he did. He lets out a deep, pleasurable sigh that turns your cheeks red while he grips you tightly, wantingly. You’d always assumed that a mind flayer’s body would feel cold, but even though his skin was covered in fluid, he was warm. Very warm.

So were you.

His golden eyes were glowing brighter than ever, his tentacles caressing you and start to float and curl languidly around you. His mouth is open before you, and your breath mixes with his.

You don’t feel fear.

“Please, my human,” he implores, “teach me. Teach me how you love.”

You didn’t hesitate this time. You felt naturally drawn to him. Willingly, you lean into him, his body, his feelings. You wrap your arms around his neck and somehow, your lips found his mouth and you started to kiss him.

As you expected, kissing Vaussur was nothing like the kisses you’ve experienced with other humans, or even other humanoids. You aren’t sure how to describe it, it felt you were kissing all around you rather than on one single spot, he surrounded you. His tentacles start to wrap you more tightly- around your head and neck. Though the thought of how vulnerable you were in this position with a mind flayer- that he could eat you so easily- did cross your mind, it only did so briefly. You were worried earlier that kissing a mind flayer with their mouths that opened four ways accompanied by lamprey teeth, meant to suction and grind into skulls might feel horrible but… you’re delighted that that wasn’t the case. The sensation of having him surround you and hold you so lovingly tightly was quite pleasant.

He hums, the sound vibrating around you. He starts floating backwards with you, slowly settling into his bed, his hands wandering, feeling you. You could feel him in your mind again, but he wasn’t intruding. It felt more like he was asking for your permission. You happily let him in, and you feel yourself cradled by his thoughts: soft, warm adoration for you.

Despite what the natural order tells you, you felt safe with him.

Vaussur had seemed confused earlier, not knowing what to do with himself while you spoiled him with your kisses, but he’d started becoming more confident, evident from the way he holds you and the tentacles’ affectionate touches. He starts taking control, sitting up a little and folding you backwards, reciprocating your kiss with new fervor, deepening it. His claws start to dig into you possessively, and you squeak, his power overwhelming you.

A flood of satisfaction floods your brain, and it isn’t yours.

I like those sounds. Vaussur’s voice purrs in your mind. Give me more.

You gasp and mewl, squirming in his hold, which only excites the illithid more, tentacles winding around your head tighter. One hand manages to stray from the tangle of limbs, only to quickly get reclaimed by his slender fingers, entwining with yours.

Don’t be scared, sweet human. He teases diabolically, I promise I won’t eat that delicious mind of yours. You’re safe with me.

You don’t know how long he kept you like that, hungrily taking your mouth while his hands and tentacles wander. When he was finally sated, Vaussur gently pries his tendrils off your face, and lets you go. You take a gasp of air, the blood in your head slowly draining away, and you cool down. You could feel warm imprints on your face where his tentacles and mouth were. Already, you find yourself missing the closeness you shared, his warm mouth on yours.

It felt like he was sucking your face in the best ways.

… You feel scandalized by your own thoughts, and you cover your mouth bashfully.

“I felt that.”

Damn it!

Vaussur chuckles, his eyes flickering with smugness. His gaze wanders over your face, like he was admiring his ‘work’.

He looks happy, eyes crinkling at you.

“Just like I promised. Your mind is still yours, untouched, undigested. Though… there are marks on your face. I rather like it.”

You don’t know how red your face is right now, fingers scrambling on it as if you could see it better that way.

“W-what?”

He chuckles again, and your frantic thoughts stop when a finger brushes your cheek.

“Thank you. For showing me that, puppet.”

Slowly, you smile, small and demure. “Your… welcome. Thank you for keeping my mind safe. I…” you swallowed, laughing nervously, “I liked it.”

Oh. Oh, he liked that.

“I did too. Immensely. You’re… incredible.” He praises you. “I would not be opposed to it if we did it again.”

You’re suddenly intimately aware of the fact that you were on his lap, practically straddling him, his arms keeping you close. He’s just invited you to another kiss, and you… like that idea. Sheepishly, you say the same.

“I… I wouldn’t either.”

You’re hoping you’ll get to kiss him again soon. Maybe more.

He lays you down beside him, and as he presses the top of his tentacles to your head, you realize it was his attempt at giving you a peck. You smile, and you instinctively curl into him, tentacles floating around you protectively.

Rest, human. He urges. You’ve done a lot today. Sleep.

You let him mentally compel you. It was nice, being able to sleep whenever you wanted without having to toss and turn before hand. You feel sleep quickly take you and your eyes fall close.

…

Vaussur stays up a bit longer after you, admiring his pretty ‘thrall’ that he feels lucky to have found. His fingers comb through your hair and behind your ear.

You’re… extraordinary.

You smile in your sleep as response. He thinks that might be the prettiest thing he’s seen in his illithid life: you being happy while you were with him.

He doesn’t think these soft, tender feelings are natural for a mind flayer. He wonders if he inhabits a human body.

You curl a little, trying to escape the chill, and Vaussur pulls a blanket up to you, and covers you. He needs to rest soon too, to shed his armor and sink into bed with you by his side.

His small… cute… vulnerable little human.

Whatever he may be in his previous life before the ceremorphosis, one thing is clear to him now.

He loves you.

And no one else can have you.

[just-french-me-up]

'ao3 needs a like and dislike button'

what you need, my algorithm-rotten minded friend, is a grip

[j-tee]

SHAPE HELL

Yup.

[mearchy]

my favorite genre of fictional character is like "i am terrifying to almost everyone, i'm very good at killing, i can endure anything, i've become exceptionally good at playing into my reputation, and if you try to give me positive social interaction i will react with confusion and cower in a corner like an abused animal. and i may try to shoot you. but there is also a chance i may imprint on you like a feral dog receiving its first loving touch! good luck."

[fox-bright]

I am never going to be able to leave Reddit.

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[lgbtlunaverse]

The world exists in such a baffling state of simultaneous sex-aversion and sex-hegemony. Every social platform on the internet is trying to banish sex workers to the shadow realm but I can't post a tweet without at least two bots replying P U S S Y I N B I O. People are self-censoring sex to seggs and $3× but every other ad you see is still filled with half-naked women. Rightwingers want queer people arrested for so much as existing in the same postal code as a child and are also drumming up a moral panic about how teenage boys aren't getting laid enough. I feel like I'm losing my mind.

[just-spacetrash]

the 'what if you played it a little risky' post literally Changed my life but i cant fujkign find it in my blog because its. a tiktok screenshot

[oldbutchdanielcraig]

hey guys if you’re planning on making a vaguepost on the dashboard can you message me with the details and some of the lore behind the vague post you’re making. a vaguepost for the dash and a detailedpost for me. because i like to know what’s going on. if you do this i will automatically take your side because you’ve done the right thing by letting me know what’s up. thanks in advance ❤️

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[zytes]

this manatee looks like it��s in a skyrim loading screen

[versasfanficwastedump]

and while i’m on a self indulgent thing? i think that any of the kids calling Bruce “dad” changes his whole demeanor. it helps him know that whatever they’re talking about is serious.

hearing his name shouted across the house does nothing for him. a hundred people say his name all day, including his kids. whatever the situation is can be fixed.

but hearing “Dad!”, cried out in battle or screamed from the other room, has him rushing to their side. what is it love and i’m here you’re alright and shh i’ve got you

“Bruce, I need help” = can’t open this large jar, have a question about math homework, need someone to look at this case file for me

“Dad, I need help” = I am hurt. I am scared. I am in danger. I need you to make things better. I need you to protect me.

[obsob]

i am a being capable of immeasurable love and whimsy

[yeepof]

Local PHD student at wizard school HARRASSED!! FOR SHAME!!

[hinamie]

to moving forward