#I think victor should be next I mean what

[aveadore]

Tumblr, hear out my Arcane thoughts. Some of it is slander, though, so don’t read if it’ll bum you out. In the end, I decided to go with one topic mostly, because I had too much to say.

Spoilers, obviously

Tw: suicide

The way the show handles suicide is SO irresponsible. Call it heroic sacrifice, if you must, but I won’t. The same song that played before, during Jinx’s attempts, played again, during her sacrifice, so the intention is clear.

Do they not realize that so many people that relate to Jinx in some ways are watching it? It’s like they are trying to say: “yes, your intrusive thoughts are right, you are better off not being there. It’s best for your loved ones, if you disappear.” So weird. And, fine, she’s probably not dead. But why hide it? Why not make her end be, openly: “sometimes, you can only heal if you cut everyone off and start anew” Fine. That would be way better. I just can’t believe that such a high profile show, in year 2024, uses suicide in such an irresponsible way. Makes it “cool” looking, gives vulnerable people a playlist, actually. Says “wait a minute, not yet”, and later LETS HER FINISH IT? Wft. Like it’s okay? Like it’s a good end for her?

Isha’s story is also part of this problem. I can’t believe her earlier end was not mentioned later. What was the point of it? Was it a good thing for a seven year old to sacrifice herself? You would think so, they way the show sidesteps the whole thing. The way Jinx is repeating what Isha had done, with no reflection on it. I also have no idea WHY Isha has done it. Was it a consequence of something someone else did, or said? Didn’t seem so. Jinx didn’t really fuck that one up, I think. I thought Isha was jinx’s foil, but it ended up not meaning anything. Was it going to show Jinx her own actions as a child, so she could find some empathy towards Vi? But Isha was not mentioned, so who knows what they were trying to say.

Summary of my other opinions, with no details as it’s too long already:

-I liked Victor and Jayce’s ending. Their relationship had enough time/buildup throughout the whole series to pull of the weight of it. It was a little bit rushed at times, but not as much as the rest of S2.

-I absolutely hated how they handled Cait, and she definitely ended up as my most disliked character.

-Mel was one of my favourites, but her story was the most rushed one is S2. I also wasn’t crazy happy that she also ended up mostly fighting at the end. I have no idea what the Black Rose lady was talking about with the whole empathy thing.

-I really liked episode 7, it was the best one from S2. Because they focused only on Ekko and Jayce, the story had time to breathe. The whiplash between their parts was crazy, but in a good way.

-The way they introduced the third faction, just so all main characters could unite was such a cop-out. The systemic problems were much too big to just be fixed by that, and the show just brushes it all under the rug. And the end is just fighting. Ugh.

-Well, it was obviously very pretty. Every frame a perfect picture and all that. Weird complaint, but some designs were “too good”. Too polished. Too much like a high-end commercial for a new skin that costs 200$. It was so distracting for me :P Especially with some Victor “outfits”

-The biggest, most pervasive problem was the time. So much stuff, so little time. It should have been three seasons. There was no time to breathe, no time to understand what’s going on. Characters running from one massive scene to next, with no build-up in between. Just so everyone can end up similar enough to their LoL variant. A bit disappointing.

[bihanspookies]

I was just informed that there’s Lee Chaolan official art that shows his dick print and I—

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being the Justice League’s computer intelligence

Justice League x reader

warnings:

a/n: THANKS BABE. this is such an old request i am so freaking sorry

prompt: anonymous: “Hello! I would like to request a Justice League (DC Extended Universe) + Reader who is sort of their 'Person in the Chair' - helping behind the scenes to keep their weapons/powers/skillset in tact, but is not afraid to fight back if necessary? I would like these to be a set of headcanons, please? Thank you and Happy Writing! P.S. You're writing is incredible!”

you and alfred got along well

“glad i’m not the only one doing the grunt work anymore” -alfred

“and i was under the impression you loved this job” -you, sarcastically

you could frequently be found switching between important sites that actually helped during missions and reddit

“alfred hang on i want your opinion on this: ‘am i the asshole for trying on my bosses suit? i (25m) work with some pretty famous people and my boss (45m) has a really cool suit. it’s a little stiff but i think i like it. anyways, there’s a matching hat (if you will) and it smells AWFUL, so i sprayed it with febreeze but it only made it worse—’” -you

“hang on. this cant be…” -alfred

“HOW DID YOU FIND MY REDDIT ACCOUNT?!” -barry, over comms

“your name is scarletspeedster, and we’ve been trying to wash that febreeze smell from the cowl for weeks.” -you

“my god, barry. next time, just use an old suit” -alfred

“really?!” -barry

“no” -you and alfred

you do a lot of gadget/weapon design with JL members

“it’s acceptable” -bruce

“wow, thanks” -you

“it’s…it’s good work. i mean it” -bruce

diana sits with you and tells you stories, sometimes theyre very informational

“so if you ever do end up fighting, you’re going to want to craft a very nice sword for yourself. i know you’re good at that, you’ll do just fine” -diana

barry nerds out with you sometimes

he gets real excited when he sees you designing stuff on the computer

and tries to be helpful

“wind resistance might be a problem with this design, you should go sleeker” -barry

“hey, barry? if you don’t let me do my job im gonna design a tool specifically to shut you up” -you

“harsh!” -barry

“sorry, maybe a little too far. but let me work” -you

arthur wanted cooler clothes

“can i get you some material from atlantis so you can make me a nicer suit?” -arthur

“only if you bring me extra so i can have fun with it” -you

“not a problem for the king, its a deal” -arthur

clark didn’t really need/want much

but he was a great help when testing new weapons and suits

“can you just…laser vision that target right ahead. new suit material” -you

“yeah, stand back” -clark

it held for a good 20 seconds

“better than i thought” -you

you were their eyes in the sky on missions

directions, lookout, enemies, obstacles, detours, you name it

and yeah, maybe victor could also do a great deal of this stuff, but you got to do it behind the scenes and you actually got paid pretty well for it

but occasionally you did ask him for tech support

“victor, the batcomputer froze” -you

“i know, i did that on purpose” -vic

“can you unfreeze it so i can see what’s going on?” -you

“what’s the password?” -vic

*sigh* “ilovevicstone123” -you

diana let you spar with her sometimes

which honestly scared you every time bc you know she could kill you if she wanted to (but you knew she would never)

(but she could)

you’d never be apart of the justice league, which was very okay with you because you loved being behind the scenes and not being shot at

and so long and you had tea with alfred while the rest of them were kicking ass, you’d manage

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @deanzboyfriend // @zoeyserpentluck // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[twilightkitkat]

What if Worst Wolverine was the same Wolverine from Origins? What if he learned that "Deadpool" Wade Wilson was "Weapon X" Wade Wilson?

Inspired by this ask.

---

When Logan first met Wade in the bar, he felt oddly familiar. Like he knew him, but he couldn't quite place where. He felt nostalgia and regret and something else bubbling up to the surface without his consent. It felt foreign, and he brushed it off when he sobered up. But he kept it in the back of his mind.

But he kept being familiar. His voice, the way he fought, his mannerisms... it was all reminiscent of somebody he felt he should know. Someone long gone.

But it couldn't be, right? All of his old teammates were dead. If this world followed a similar timeline, there's no way this could be someone he knew. He must just be grasping at straws. Delusional, as usual.

It all came to a head a few weeks after the dust had settled. Wade and Logan were drinking together in their apartment, and Wade lopsidedly grinned at Logan with flushed cheeks. Logan felt his heart stutter.

"You know, you were just as cool back then," Wade giggled. "You looked good when you were younger, though I think the silver fox look fits you more with the grey streaks."

Logan frowned. "What do you mean when I was younger?"

"C'monnnnn Wolvie," Wade cooed as he leaned his head against his hand. "Back when we were in the Weapon X program together? I mean, we might not have been the best of buddies but it's kind of mean of you to forget about me."

It's like a part of Logan's brain unlocked. Wade fucking Wilson. Of course Logan remembered him, but he was so different that Logan had never made the connection.

Logan had a complicated relationship with Wade. He both respected him and thought he was a nuisance. Wade's skills were undeniable, but so was his motor mouth. Logan groaned in annoyance most of the time, but Wade's quips had managed to pull a snicker out of him on more than a few occasions. He tried to feign annoyance, but despite what people said, Wade was funny. His jokes were one of the only things that brought any life to the dreary and harsh environment.

Back then, Logan had still been tangled up with Victor and didn't let himself get too close to others (for both his own and their sakes). Still, Wade had found him in the corner of a bar a few times when the rest of the team was partying. He'd sat next to him and just... kept him company. He rambled on about inconsequential things, avoiding the more serious topics. He offered a distraction, a reprieve from the constant violence and solemn atmosphere. Logan appreciated it more than he could convey at the time.

And on the rare instances where Logan wanted to talk, Wade listened. Even if it was drunken gibberish, regrets and frustrations and feelings spilling out into the open. More notably, he didn't report him for having second doubts about the missions. Anyone else would've. Logan didn't do friends back then, but he'd consider Wade the closest thing he had to one.

And then Logan had quit. And left behind his teammates, cutting off all chance of further development. And then Logan had returned, but too late. By then, Wade had been turned into that... thing... by Stryker.

Oh god. The thought of it made Logan want to throw up. Wade, always chattering, with his mouth stitched shut. A mindless drone made to obey orders, a complete antithesis to the man who bent the rules and smiled privately at Logan when he rambled about what could be interpreted as treason. A mockery of everything he stood for.

That Wade was... the same as his Wade. Deadpool was Wade Wilson. Wade Wilson now was the same Wade Wilson from back then.

That means in his world, he'd let Wade down. He'd abandoned him and left him to be experimented on. Worse, he'd killed him. Logan killed Wade.

Fuck. The reason he didn't recognize Wade in the bar was because his was long dead. A clone that he himself had killed.

He looked at Wade, blushing and smiling with adoration in his eyes even as he feigned indignation at Logan not remembering. He looked at Wade and imagined him trapped in his own body, personality erased and gone. He imagined him with his mouth sewed shut, never to speak again. With a flat and empty stare instead of the twinkle in his eye.

Wade had saved him from himself. He'd given him a new home and fought for him to keep it. He'd been willing to die for Logan when nobody in his own universe would so much as look at him. Logan owed him an insurmountable debt, one that he couldn't even begin to repay in this lifetime. But he was trying. To make Wade happy, at least. It was his purpose in this world and would continue to be until Wade decided to throw him out or he finally kicked the bucket.

So the realization that he'd failed his own Wade so horribly made him viscerally ill. Even back then, Wade had been the only one to really see him when nobody else did. When even Victor just looked for a distorted reflection of himself and when everyone else wanted a mindless tool, Wade acknowledged Logan.

In a time when Wade didn't owe Logan shit, when he could've gotten in trouble for being complicit if Logan actually went through with what he said, Wade still protected him. And Logan didn't even think to check up on him in return. (Even when he knew Wade checked up on him. The Tylenol and water beside his bunk didn't appear out of nowhere. He didn't even remember climbing into bed before he passed out.)

Logan left him to die. Logan let Wade die. Wade, who was smart and funny and charming and caring and everything Logan was not. Wade, who had all of that stripped from him while Logan got to keep living. Logan, who took that chance and spat on Wade's fucking grave by ruining it all.

Logan wanted to throw up.

[avoxrising]

The Feral One - Prologue

I had an idea for a mini Finnick x reader Tumblr series so I wrote a short prologue to gage y’all’s interest. Lmk if y’all want to see more!

“I want you guys to forget everything you think you know about the games,” Haymitch states as the District 12 team sits down to eat.

“Last year was child’s play,” Haymitch continues. “This year, you’re dealing with all experienced killers.”

“All right. What does that mean for us?” Peeta asks.

“That means you’re gonna have to have some allies,” he replies.

Peeta starts, “ok I think that if we…”

“Whoop,” Haymitch interrupts. “You’re not the problem.”

“No,” Katniss states as she stares at the pair, seemingly upset that they even suggested allies.

“Look,” Haymitch sighs. “You’re starting at a disadvantage. Most of these people have been friends for years.”

“That just puts us higher on their kill list,” Katniss states.

“Do it your own way,” Haymitch tells her. “But I know these people. You go it alone, their first move is going to be to hunt you down. Both of you.”

“Katniss come on,” Peeta sighs.

“How could any of us even trust each other?” she asks.

“It’s not about trust,” Haymitch responds. “It’s about staying alive.”

After the group eats they move to the lounge to watch the recap of the reapings. Haymitch proceeds to give his tributes a rundown of their competition.

“Cashmere and Gloss,” Haymitch states. “Brother and sister, District 1. They won back to back games, capital favorites, lots of sponsors. They will be lethal.”

He clicks to the next clip. “And the other half of the career pack, Brutus and Enobaria.”

“What’s with her teeth?” Katniss asks, noticing the abnormally sharp teeth in her mouth.

“She had them filed into fangs so she could rip peoples throats out,” Haymitch explains.

“She’s committed, I’ll give her that,” Peeta declares. Haymitch moves on to the next clip.

“Wiress and Beetee,” he states. “Not fighters, but brilliant and weird, real tech savvy. He won his games by electrocuting six tributes at once.” The tributes absorb this information as Haymitch moves on to the next clip.

He moves onto the next clip and Katniss speaks out. “Finnick Odair right?”

“Yes, he won his games at 14, youngest, ever, extremely humble,” Haymitch replies.

“You’re kidding,” Katniss gapes.

“Yes, I’m kidding,” Haymitch sighs. “He’s a peacock, a total preener. But he’s the capital’s darling, and they love him here; charming, smart, and very skilled at combat, especially in water.”

“What about weaknesses?” Peeta ask and Haymitch skips back to the escort calling out the female tribute’s name.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Haymitch states. “Known in the capital as ‘the feral one’, winner of the 69th games”.

Katniss and Peeta shrink deeper into the couch.

“Isn’t she, um, a serial killer?” Peeta stutters.

“Well technically most of the victors are,” Haymitch responds. “But yes, she has killed outside of the games. She’s a deeply misunderstood creature.”

“Why is she Finnick’s weakness?” Katniss asks.

“She was Finnick’s first victor that he mentored,” Haymitch explains. “It’s hard not to get attached to the ones you bring home, especially your first. However, those two are a bit more complicated. I’d says it’s probably more of a… situationship… than an actual relationship but if you mess with either of them I can assure you that you’ll be dead pretty quickly.”

“So we should avoid them,” Peeta states, taking a mental note of Haymitch’s explanation.

“No,” Haymitch states, confusing his tributes. “The best move is to ally with them. They’re your biggest competition in the arena besides the careers, but they’re arguably more reliable and you don’t want to get on her bad side. They call her feral for a reason.”

[mindmelter]

Five Alien Hosts: Adventures In Italy (Part 1) - Vacation

(This series is a Sequel of "Five Aliens On Board Of Hunks". So before diving into this story, I recommend reading its prequel. Although this chapter still works on its own. Enjoy it.)

_____________________________

Victor and the five alien controlled hunks landed in Italy, they were now at the airport waiting for Victor's next orders.

"So, what's the plan, Master? I've already canceled all my host's meetings for the week, just like you asked me." Sylo, the alien bug inside the man's brain, said.

Victor sighed and sat in front of him. He ran his hand through his hair as he analyzed the situation they were in. "I'm still thinking about it. The plan was to release all five of you once we arrived at the resort. Then, you guys would take over some of the hot Italian guests there. But I wasn't expecting the five of you to disobey my orders and take over these five hunks on the plane..."

"Do Master wish for us to abandon our hosts?" Sylo asked.

"No, I really like the bodies you guys picked. Specially yours... don't tell your brothers but your host is my favorite. I like that you went straight for the business class for the prime meat. What is his name by the way? We should use the host's names while in public"

"His name is Alexander"

"Where was he going?"

"He was going to a business meeting here in Italy. He's quite a busy and important man. His dad owned an internacional car exporter company and of course Alexander here is now the CEO of the company"

"Interesting, having a rich host might be helpful"

Victor and Sylo's attention suddenly turned to a muscular Arab man near them: It was Grus's bodybuilder host. He was screaming to someone on the phone, he seemed very angry "Yes, that's right! I will not attend the bodybuilding competition this year... I know I said I would be there... I don't have to explain why... fuck the contracts, I want you to shove them up your ass!" He shouted hanging up the call.

"Grus really knows how to imitate the personalities of his hosts" Sylo commented.

Near the angry bodybuilder was Quin's footballer host, the football player was with his girlfriend, who was waiting for him at the airport, but now it looked like they were having a heated discussion. The couple was finally going to reunite after two months apart, well, that was before one of Victor's alien bugs crawled inside the stud's brain and took over his hot body.

"What do you mean you are travelling again? I waited for you for two months! You said you would focus on our relationship once you were back"

"I have more important things to do now" He said in a flat tone.

"More important than our relationship? What's wrong with you?" The woman shouted and pushed Quin's host. "That's it, It's over for us!" She shouted storming away. The handsome blond athlete continued standing with a blank face expression, as if his girlfriend of five years hadn't just ended their relationship. He then turned to look at Victor with his blank face and smirked, giving Victor a thumbs up.

Victor then looked at Echo's Daddy host sitting on a near seat with his wife and children. While Yinx's host was talking with the host's girlfriend, she was confused as why her boyfriend had decided not to visit her parents anymore.

Those five men boarded the plane with different plans for themselves and their loved ones. Now, they were nothing but husks for the tiny alien bugs to control. The aliens were now the ones on board their bodies, and it was now up to Victor to create a new plan for all of them. Victor then turned to Alexander.

"Only Echo's daddy host was already going to the same resort as me, all the other hosts had different plans." Victor said.

"Why don't we all go together to the resort, Master? All our hosts have canceled their appointments as you ordered, our hosts are now free of any human burden."

"But you guys don't have reservations, I only made one reservation for myself"

"You don't have to worry about that, Master. My host is a millionarie, he's the CEO of an internacional car company. He's so rich that I could rent the entire resort if I wanted. I'm sure I could arrange five reservations for him and my brothers's hosts"

"This sounds like a good plan. Connect me to the others, please" Victor ordered.

Alexander then closed his eyes and pressed his fingers on his temples for a few seconds. Victor watched as the other four hosts stopped moving to receive the mental signal. This was one of the bugs' abilities: They were able to communicate telepathically to each other. They all shared the same mental link and could communicate as long as they weren't too far away from one another.

"They are hearing you Master" Sylo's host spoke with his eyes white rolling back. Victor leaned closer to him.

"Ok, listen to me, guys. We are still going to the resort as it was the original plan, only now you will go into your new hosts. You guys know the rules..." Victor said, and Sylo passed the message to the others like a group call.

"Yes Master, while inside a host we must take their Identity as well" Alexander responded for the five of them.

"That's right, unless we are in private that you guys can stop acting like them. Now let's go, this vacation is not only for me but for you guys too. After helping me fuck with every hot guy that I wanted for the past year, you guys deserve a break"

"Thank you, Master" Sylo responded for the five of the alien bugs.

_____________________________

The next day, Victor and the five alien hosts were enjoying the Saturday morning at one of the most expensive resorts in Italy. Sylo used his host's money to pay for all the expenses, and to get the best rooms.

Victor was sharing a room with Sylo's host, Alexander.

Echo's daddy host — whose name was David — was sharing a room with his family.

Yinx's host was sharing a room with his girlfriend, who was still mad at him for changing their plans of meeting with her parents to spending a weekend at the resort.

Quin's footballer host and Grus's bodybuilder host were sharing a room together as the bodybuilder was single and the football player had just ended his long term relationship at the airport.

The night before, while Alexander was fucking Victor on their bed, Victor commanded Sylo to connect his mind with his brothers, so all the hosts could feel what Alexander was feeling. In the next room, Yinx's was fucking his host's girlfriend. In another, Quin's footballer host was getting a blowjob from Grus's bodybuilder host.

When Alexander came inside Victor, Sylo sent a powerful orgasmic signal towards every single one of the four hosts in the other rooms, in which all came together at the same time.

Victor woke up to an empty bed, Alexander wasn't in the room anymore. Victor, still lying on the bed stared at the ceiling and started to smile as he remembered all the fun he had the night before. Victor fell asleep with Alexander's hard cock buried deep inside him. Victor grunted in disappointment, he wanted to start the day with a morning fuck, so where the hell was Sylo with his hot host? He grabbed his phone on the nightstand and saw a message from Alexander.

"Good morning, Master. I'm having breakfast at the restaurant near the coast. I didn't want to wake you up so I went alone"

Victor quickly put his clothes on, and on his way to meeting with Alexander, he saw David—Echo's host—relaxing on a chair with his family. Victor passed by and admired the dad in black speedos." He couldn't believe that just a day before he was cumming on those hairy pecs in the airplane bathroom.

David grinned at Victor and unpretentiously adjusted his bulge, only Victor knew it was very much Intentional, Echo was trying to tease Victor with his new sexy Daddy host. Victor then spotted Alexander sitting at a table alone, and walked to him.

"Why don't you two just fuck each other right there in front of everyone?" Alexander joked, the restaurant area had a clear view of David.

"God, I wish I could. You guys picked the most hottest men on that plane." Victor said sitting on his side, then he took Alexander's glass of orange juice and took a sip, just for fun he spat inside and handed the glass back to Alexander, who smiled.

"You taught us how to pick the best human males."

"I sure did. I'm so lucky to have you guys in my life. These men wouldn't give me the light of the day if it wasn't for literal aliens taking over their brains."

They both laughed, then Alexander gulped down the juice. "You're right, Master. Alexander would only fuck female models. You would never be on his dating pool, but you don't have to worry about that anymore. With us in control you're the only one that they will ever have eyes on"

David blushed.

Suddendly Alexander froze for a few seconds and his eyes rolled back.

"Is everything ok?" Victor asked. Alexander then pressed two fingers on his temple.

"I'm getting a mental link from Yinx... He wants to talk with you in private.... he's at the... hotel's gym."

"I better go see what he wants" Victor said standing up. "Won't you give me a kiss, Master?" Alexander asked pulling Victor by the shirt and planting a gentle kiss on his lips.

Victor walked to the gym, once there he saw that the place was almost empty with the exception of Yinx's host — Anthony — working out at the bicycle's area.

"Hey Master!" Yinx said, giving Victor a warm smile.

"Hey sexy. I'm seeing you're really enjoying your new muscles."

"What can I say? I love working the muscles of my hosts, there's just something very addicting about this human practice, I like the pain it causes."

"Can you give me a flex? Please?"

"Of course Master"

Victor started to sweat and a tent started to form in his shorts. It was too hot to have someone like Anthony flexing for him.

"God, I will never get used to this." Victor squeezed Anthony's biceps, then lifted one arm and sniffed on his sweaty armpit, he had a strong musk and Victor wasted no time in giving it a few licks. "So, uuummffh... Sylo said you wanted to.. mmmffhhh.. talk to me?"

"Yes, follow me, Master" They both walked to a more private area at the gym, then Anthony sat on a couch.

"Earlier I was jogging and I noticed a man following me with his car, he was taking photos of me. But when I tried to confront him, he said he knew what I was and then drove off"

"That's weird. It must have been just a gay pervert. Your new host is too hot, you will attract some creeps"

"You might be right" Anthony said looking down.

"And how are you dealing with Anthony's girlfriend?"

"She's driving me insane, Master. I fucked her last night to make her happy, while I was inside her I felt Sylo sending me an orgasmic mental link. Anthony came so fast while feeling what Sylo's host was feeling. His girlfriend thought he came for her, but he actually came for you, Master"

"Wait, are you hard right now?" Victor asked.

"No I'm not" Anthony responded, playfully covering his crotch with his manly hands.

"I think you are" Victor taunted "C'mon, show me"

Victor was shocked when Anthony uncovered his crotch, there was a dark wet patch on his pants. Yinx's made Anthony cum by just remembering the night before.

"You horny bastard"

"I can't help it, I wish it was me fucking you last night, Master. It's not fair that only Sylo can share a room with you. I would love to fuck you with my new meat"

"Aaawwnn, we can make that happen, Yinx. No need to be all jealous. I have plenty of ass for the five of you"

Suddenly, Victor felt his phone buzzing inside his pocket, so he grabbed it and saw a new message from David. It was a photo of him wearing only dark blue speedos while posing to a mirror.

"Wife is out with the kids, I'm all alone now. What do you think of coming over and having some fun? This host has so much more than just some hairy pecs, you need so see his hairy ass"

"I-I have to go now" Victor said.

Yinx's host nodded and Victor made his way to David's room, his heart raced with anticipation. He couldn't wait to have some fun with Echo's host. When he arrived at the door, he knocked softly only to realize the door was already open. David's deep voice called out, "Come in."

Victor stepped inside, taking in the sight before him. David was lying on the bed, wearing only a pair of dark blue speedos that did little to hide his impressive junk.

"Hey, David," Victor said, closing the door behind him. "Thanks for the invite." He walked over to the bed and sat down beside David, their legs brushing against each other.

"No problem, buddy," David replied with a sultry smile. "I've been looking forward to this." He reached out and ran his hand through Victor's hair, making the younger man shiver. "So, what do you want to do? I'm up to anything"

Victor leaned in closer, feeling the heat emanating from David's body. "Well," he began, "I've been thinking about that message you sent me..."

David smiled, his eyes glinting in the candlelight. "You mean about my hairy ass?" He reached down and took hold of Victor's erection, stroking it gently through his pants. Victor arched into the touch, unable to hide his desire.

"Yeah," Victor whispered, his heart racing. "I've been wanting to have more fun with you since I came on your pecs on the plane." He leaned in and kissed David, their lips meeting in a passionate exchange as Victor sucked on the married dad's tongue. Their hands moved frantically over each other's bodies.

As David took Victor's clothes off, a new idea began to form in Victor's mind. He glanced down at David's hairy chest and hard erection, and suddenly he had an image in his head. "I had an Idea" he whispered into David's ear.

David looked confused for a moment, but then Victor laid down on the bed with his hard member pointing up, and looked at David with a dirty look, who got the message right away...

"Oh fuck, yeah," Victor moaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. "That's it Echo, make this Daddy fuck himself on my cock." And with those words, the alien-controlled daddy began to fuck himself on Victor's hard cock ever harder. Victor opened his eyes to the sight of a burly hairy family dad squatting on his cock, he watched amazed as David's pecs bounced up and down with each movement. Victor grabbed each hairy pecs with his hands, sometimes he would pinch and twist the nipples. At one moment Victor even used David's nipples as a handle to guide the Daddy up and down. Soon they came together in a erotic, otherworldly union. As they reached their climaxes, waves of pleasure washed over them. Victor came inside the host, and the host came all over Victor. The room spun around them. David's breath came in ragged gasps, his hairy chest heaving as he clenched tightly around Victor's cock.

Slowly, they began to regain their composure and their breathing returning to normal. David pulled off of Victor with a satisfied sigh, his cock still hard and glistening with their shared sweat. He reached down and started to lick Victor's body clean, erasing any trace of cum.

"That was incredible," Victor whispered, his voice husky with desire "thank you, Echo." He leaned in and kissed David gently on the lips as he caressed the man's fur.

"My pleasure, Master" David replied, putting one hand behind his head "Anytime you want some more fun, you know where to find me. This brainless Daddy is yours to use."

They both shared a laugh.

_____________________________

Later that day, Victor walked back into his room to find Alexander talking on the phone. He was speaking in a strange language — was it Arabic? Or Turkish? Victor couldn't tell.

"Hey, Sylo, what are you doing on the phone? I thought I said to cancel your host's meetings for the week. You should be outside having a good time in your new body" Victor said.

Alexander muttered something into the phone and then muted it. “This host is much more important than you think, Master. He can't just disappear for a week. People will start looking for him" he growled, shooting a stern look in Victor's direction. Victor couldn't help but roll his eyes. Sylo was the most stubborn of the five bugs.

"Let them. It's not like they will suspect he's just a brainless empty husk for an alien bug now. You should be relaxing, not working"

Alexander suddenly tore his shirt off and glared at Victor with a menacing expression, making it clear that he was not amused.

Victor's heart raced as he felt a surge of adrenaline course through his veins. He knew Sylo was just playing pretend with his host's dominant personality, but still, seeing such a big muscular man giving him such a look would still make him sweat. Victor was still very much human.

"Why don't you use your slutty mouth to worship my muscles instead, while I'm doing real man stuff?" Alexander growled.

Victor's cheeks flushed red, but he couldn't help the surge of desire that coursed through his body. He looked at Alexander's muscles, meeting his intense gaze, and felt a strange sense of submission wash over him. Without hesitation, he sat onto Alexander's thighs and started to kiss and lick his chest, moving lower towards his hard stomach.

As he licked at the six-pack, Alexander went back to talking on the phone in a foreign language.

"Flex, please" Victor asked, and Alexander obeyed, flexing his right arm so Victor could grope and lick at the hard muscles, especially the biceps.

Victor then kneeled between Alexander's legs and unzipped his pants, fishing out the hard and thick 8 Inches member. He traced the outline of the shaft with his tongue before wrapping his lips around it and taking it deep into his mouth. Alexander let out a guttural moan while still on the phone, his free hand tangling in Victor's hair as he thrusted his hips forward.

Victor reveled in the power he felt in the moment, the power of sucking off a straight rich CEO that in his normal self would never even acknowledge his existence. He worked his mouth expertly, sucking and licking until he felt Alexander's climax approach, his body tensing and shuddering beneath Victor's expert mouth.

Finally, Alexander cried out in pleasure, his hips bucking wildly as he came, filling Victor's mouth with his seed. Victor swallowed every drop, relishing the taste of his friend's host on his tongue. As the intensity of the moment began to wane, he looked up at Alexander.

"You are such a good little slut," Alexander growled, his voice still heavy with arousal. He had ended the call when he started to orgasm.

Victor couldn't help but smile up at him. He had never expected to feel this way about one host, but there was something so thrilling about being called "a good little slut" by someone like Alexander.

"Now," Alexander continued, his voice taking on a commanding tone, "I want you to sit onto the bed and wait there. I have something special planned for you"

Victor was confused, but as if on cue, the door opened and Grus's middle eastern bodybuilder host stepped inside. Loking around the room Grus's host turned to Alexander. "You sent me a signal, brother?"

[tojjist]

“At Least” S. Gojo

☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)

☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader

☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.

☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).

☆ wc : 5.6k

☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao

“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”

His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.

“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”

Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”

Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.

“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”

Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.

You're not flustered, you're angry.

“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.

“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”

“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."

Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”

He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.

How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?

How could he fail everyone like this?

“Gojo-San?”

Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.

“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.

And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.

“Are you okay? You seemed off.”

Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.

“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?

When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”

Spring break?

Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.

“Spring break? Why so soon?”

“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”

“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”

What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.

“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”

“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and  cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”

Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.

“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.

“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”

Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?

You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet  Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.

Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.

Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination. 

Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.

It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant. 

Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.

You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.

The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.

The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly. 

You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?

“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”

"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”

“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”

“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”

You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.

You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.

“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”

“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”

Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”

“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”

“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.

“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”

“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.

“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”

“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”

Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?

Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.

What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.

Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.

“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”

From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.

Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.

His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.

The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.

“That’s going to kill you,” his hand  reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette  from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.

He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”

“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”

Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”

“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”

27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?

“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.

The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.

The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?

He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.

You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his  direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.

Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.

The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual,  that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.

“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.

“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words. 

But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.

“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”

Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.

“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”

“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”

“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.

Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”

“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”

You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.

He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to  your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought. 

He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.

“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”

“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”

A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17. 

“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact. 

“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.

“All good things, I hope-“

“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”

“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances. 

“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”

“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”

His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.

“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”

Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.

“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”

“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.

“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”

Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store. 

“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.

“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.

“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”

“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.

You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.

You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.

You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.

“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.

He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”

You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.

You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.

Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”

You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after

You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.

That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.

A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.

“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”

And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.

“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”

He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.

“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”

Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.

This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.

“nngh..”

Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.

He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.

Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.

Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.

“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”

“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”

“Not yet, no,”  he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”

His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”

“Huh?”

You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late. 

He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.

“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.

You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath. 

“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.

What have you done?

“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”

You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”

He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.

“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”

“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“

“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”

He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.

Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.

“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response. 

There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.

Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.

[nebulaafterdark]

Exile (Part 2)

Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves

Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol abuse and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY

Part 1

Haymitch doesn’t sleep, but he does wait until a reasonable hour to climb out of bed to drink. And glare at Y/N from the dining table of their suite.

Their wedding attire, as well as the sheets they’d consummated said marriage upon, had been prompted collected. Nothing is ever really theirs. Not their clothing or their houses, nor their bodies. Everything belongs to the Capitol, everything belongs to Snow.

It is a foolish endeavor, trying to keep Y/N safe. Haymitch knew it from the moment her name was plucked from the reaping bowl. Surely she would die in the arena, but somehow she didn’t. Surely Snow would kill her after, but for some reason he didn’t.

For a moment, Haymitch almost believed that he could do it. That he could save her. Spare her from this. But Snow wanted her; everyone wanted her. Haymitch’s stomach turns at the rather extensive list of patrons who are chomping at the bit for just one night with her.

If he’s being honest, he doesn’t know if it was pride or stupidity which caused him to blurt out that he would do anything, in exchange for Y/N’s safety.

Clearly Snow intends to take full advantage of anything. The victors of district twelve can still prove themselves useful and lucrative. A new means to entertain and distract people from what is really going on.

Haymitch isn’t sure how many of the Capitol’s higher ups will have seen their wedding night by now. Not that it matters, most of them have already seen him anyway. But they hadn’t seen her.

Some part of him understands that it is stupid to become attached to her. She’ll be another person for the president to hold over his head. She is just a stupid girl, who makes him do stupid things.

Y/N begins to stir against the mattress.

Haymitch knocks back the remainder of his drink. He has the full lineup waiting for her. Uppers, downers, sleeping pills, painkillers, something to calm her nerves. All color coded and laid out on the table, next to a glass of water.

Sure, there are other ways a person might comfort another. But Haymitch isn’t familiar with them. However, he’s on a first name basis with pills. Booze.

Y/N’s lips part and she lets out a sleepy sigh.

God those lips…her mouth. The noises she made.

Haymitch slaps a hand against the table. He could not and would not think about it. She didn’t want him, she was forced. They both were. He has to figure out how to live with that.

Eventually Y/N wakes, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her eyes find him, at the table, watching her, intently. She excuses herself to the washroom and returns a few moments later. Haymitch is still staring. “Good morning,” she says, in a weak attempt to break the awkward silence.

Haymitch grunts in response, observing as she opens her travel bag in the corner and produces a tablet. The same one she taps away at day and night. Frankly, he’s surprised it hadn’t ended up in bed with them. “What are you doing?” He asks, as she presses a button and the screen comes to life.

“I was just…” about to pour my heart out in a word document, then seal up the file. “Going to play a game.”

“You should take something,” Haymitch nods to the pills, “then you should eat something.”

“Which ones do you take?”

“None.”

“Did you eat?”

“No.”

“Then we should call for breakfast.” Y/N turns her gaze back to the tablet screen. “What do you like?”

“Are you taking notes?” Haymitch huffs a laugh.

Y/N arches a brow, “yeah.” Knowledge is power. Anything from how a person takes their eggs, to their favorite color.

Haymitch purses his lips, “I like bacon, crispy, toast with strawberry marmalade, and eggs over easy. What about you?”

“Oh,” Y/N jots it down, waving a dismissive hand. “I like french toast, with fruit. Hash browns, with hot sauce and coffee. I love coffee.”

“They’ll have it sent for you, back home in twelve. They’ll send you anything you ask for…they’re not supposed to give us money, but things, they are allowed to give us things.” The people who get to watch. The people who pay to watch.

“Do you think we’ll have to do it often?”

“I think last night will keep them entertained for a while.” Haymitch says, “how are you?”

Y/N feels her cheeks heat up. The ask is too intimate. “I’m fine.”

Haymitch sighs, “white one’s for pain, pink peps you up, blue helps you sleep, yellow is for nerves.”

Y/N clears her throat, “my mom…has a pretty nasty addiction to morphling.”

He can respect that. “You should only take what you need then.” Nothing less, nothing more.

“I don’t really need anything.” Y/N lifts a shoulder.

“But you will take one if you need to?”

“Yes, Haymitch.” She assures him.

“Does this bother you, then?” He lifts his bottle between them.

“No.” Y/N shakes her head. “You said you wanted to keep your liquor, that was one of your terms.”

“But does it bother you?”

“No, Haymitch. It doesn’t bother me. We all have our vices. I take notes, you take shots. We are who we are.”

————————————————————————

They take the first train out of the Capitol, after they’re dismissed by President Snow. It takes about a day and a half, straight from the Capitol to twelve.

Haymitch keeps mostly to himself. His own room or the bar car.

Y/N realizes that he values space more than anything. She keeps that in mind when they return to victor’s village. Going their separate ways.

Y/N slides the key into the lock, turning it open and flicking on the light. Home sweet home. After a while she takes the stairs up to her bedroom on the second floor. She turns the knob…and then she screams.

Cameras, like the ones in the honeymoon suite. Folded away neatly against the far wall. No envelope. No threat. Just a promise, that they’ll have to use them one day.

She stumbles back into the hallway, colliding with something firm. “AHHH!” Y/N turns, ready to fight off her intruder.

“Hey, hey, shh. It’s me.” Haymitch hushes her.

“Haymitch?” She breathes.

“What happened?”

“They’re in there,” Y/N tells him, burying her face against the crook of his neck. “They’re in my room.”

“Who?” He’ll kill them.

“The cameras.”

Fuck. Haymitch tightens his hold. “Then you’ll stay with me.“ Snow must’ve had them placed strategically, to set her off. He wanted the cameras to be the first thing she saw, the second she felt an ounce of comfort, returning to her own home. “Stay right here, with me.”

“But my-”

“I have spare rooms, we can clean one out for you. Until then, you can stay with me. We’ll make it nice for you. Whatever you want.”

“You wanted to keep your house.” He asks for so little. “I know you need space.”

Haymitch draws back slightly, cupping her face in his hands. “It’s big enough for two, we can figure it out.”

Y/N nods, as he thumbs tears from her cheeks. “Thank you.”

She can’t go home, back to the house in town, she grew up in. This was made clear the day she became a victor, but she can come here. To him. And Haymitch would welcome her with open arms.

————————————————————————

Haymitch is used to sleeping with a knife under his pillow. But with Y/N landing in his bed night after night, he is forced to retire the blade for her safety.

He still has nightmares. Just like Y/N. Twisting in the sheets restlessly, waking her as he does.

“Haymitch,” Y/N whispers. Shaking him, lightly. “Haymitch, it’s Y/N. I’m here with you, in district twelve. You’re safe now.”

Haymitch startles awake, to soft fingers carding his hair. “Angel?”

“You’re safe.” She says, a second time.

————————————————————————

President Snow is quite pleased with the results of his latest stunt, the cameras in Y/N’s room. The closer his problem victors become, the less likely they will be to cause a fuss.

Haymitch has proved, time and time again, that he will go to great lengths to protect his former tribute.

Coriolanus remembers that feeling well. The way a woman like Lucy Gray or Y/N Undersee could make a person feel. Especially a mentor. The need to save a dying bird is strong, until they inevitably bite the hand that feeds.

Y/N will bite Haymitch eventually, deep; to the bone. Snow is sure of it. Because that is what pretty little birds do.

Part 3

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 1

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Destiny, unrealizable dreams, incurable disease, war, poverty…

It just goes on.

This world’s a bargain sale of despair.

And it’s called “despair” because you can’t do anything about it.

However, that’s not something I’ll allow.

If you can’t overcome despair— then what’s the point of me, of us humans, being born?

That’s why these days, I live my life flipping it off.

--

It’s been a week since I started my “sinful life” as a Fairytale Keeper.

It wouldn’t be long before I could go back to my former life after keeping this secret—at least that’s what I thought.

--

Darius: While I didn’t expect there to be a get-together soon after our arrival to England, I’m happy.

That night, a dinner party he called a get-together was held…

Between “Crown”, an organization directly under the command of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, and “Vogel”, an organization directly under the command of Germany.

All members were together in one place.

Vogel had just arrived from Germany a few hours ago.

~~ Flashback ~~

Victor: Vogel is a research organization that’s dedicated to the societal contribution of the Cursed Ones. They will be staying in the palace for a few months as goodwill ambassadors.

Darius: Our motto is “the betterment of society through the Cursed Ones”

~~ End flashback ~~

(They looked friendly, not people you should be wary of)

However, there’s something that’s been bothering me for a while now.

Harrison, whose power allowed him to see through lies, said “they’re lying”— 

(So long as we don’t truly know them, we shouldn’t let our guard down yet)

Darius, who I believe is the chief of “Vogel” was sitting next to William and enjoying his conversation with him.

(For now I think it’s better for me to lie low and stay quiet)

On the table was a spread of dishes that Victor had put his all into preparing.

(Even though it all looks so delicious…I’m too nervous to eat)

Nica: What’s this? Robin, you haven’t touched your food. Then I’ll take this cherry.

Ring: Nica, you’ll get a stomach ache if you take a stranger’s food.

Nica: What’s with the serious warning, little brother? It’s just an excuse to make an appeal to be friends. Ring, you’re really out of touch.

Ring: …I’m ignorant.

The twins looked similar, with the same hair and eye color.

Kate: Nica and Ring…right?

Nica: Yep, you remembered our names? We remember yours too, Kate. Even though we just met, I think we’ll get along? Hey, show us around the palace. Let’s get out of here.

He slipped his arm around my waist with a practiced gesture and whispered in my ear.

(Wha…)

The moment I stood my guard, I felt someone tug my arm from the opposite side.

Roger: Sorry to interrupt, but Kate’s got a prior engagement with me.

Kate: Roger!

Roger: The queen’s aide’s great at showing people around the palace. He’ll be delighted. Victor, would you mind showing our guests from Vogel around?

Victor: Yes, of course! I will show you around every nook and cranny.

Nica: (¬_¬)…

Nica narrowed his eyes at Victor and then smiled.

Nica: Vielen Dank (Many thanks)

William: While I’d rather not, it’s time to call it a night.

Darius: You’re right, Lord Rex. We of Vogel would like to get along with Crown like a family. Should you ever be in trouble, we’d be delighted for you to turn to us for help, okay?

--

—In a room in Crown’s castle.

In a luxurious room prepared for Vogel, Darius sat comfortably in his chair and smiled.

Darius: What did you think of our get-together with Crown?

Nica: Amazing. I tried to lure the lrobin, but the hunter got in the way.

Darius: Hunter? Ah, you mean the “double-crossing hunter” Roger Barel. Hehe, wanting to snatch the robin* from them is quite reckless.

Ring: …About Roger Barel and that girl…are they together?

Nica: They’re not. But there’s no doubt that Crown cares for the robin a lot.

Darius: Gathering information is our main goal. It’ll be valuable material for eventually realizing our ambitions. Ring, Nica. Continue to gather any useful information on Crown and Robin.

Nica and Ring: Verstanden/…Understood

Darius: …Roger Barel. A former doctor with a strange fixation of “Cursed Ones”. Does he have a place in our “family”?

--

As the get-together came to a close, people started filing out of the room one after the other.

Before I knew it, even Roger disappeared…—

(H-huh?)

I ran out into the hall and saw his solid back.

Kate: Um, what was that prior engagement you mentioned, Roger…?

When I called out to him, he looked back at me in the empty hallway.

Roger: Did I make a mistake thinking you were in trouble?

You did that to help me? +4 +4

I was in a lot of trouble. +4 +4

You weren’t mistaken. +4 +4

Kate: You didn’t. Thank you.

Roger: You looked like a lost dog so I thought I did you an uncharacteristic favor.

(Dog? …No, I didn’t hear that right)

When I thanked him again, I saw a hint of scheming on his face.

Roger: By the way, I didn’t say I did it for free, did I? You’re gonna have to pay me back for saving you.

(Eh?)

Roger: I was thinking about going out drinking with Ellis and Jude. Join us.

Kate: Huh, now? Woah…Wait, Roger!

--

Roger: Phew~That hit the spot. The first drop of beer’s blood, you know.

Ellis: Heh, that’s what you always say.

Jude: Can’t believe he’s a doctor. Well he’s a quack.

(Before I knew it, I ended up getting dragged to a bar)

(It’s something I’ve noticed, but Roger can be a little…no, very pushy.)

Furthermore, it’s a wonder how Jude, who looked like the type to refuse an invitation, was sitting here with a sour look. 

Red-headed waiter: Here you are. Fish and chips, bramboraky(?)**, and…

Jude: Just how much did ya order? Ya ate a lot at the get-together.

Roger: I never have my fill when picking at those small fancy food.

Ellis: Are you full, Jude? I can still eat.

Jude: You’re still a growin’ kid.

The trio act like close friends…

Kate: Heh, hehe…

I couldn’t help but laugh and Roger squinted at me with a beer in hand.

Roger: The heck, so you can laugh like that after all.

Kate: Huh?

Roger: You know you haven’t laughed since you became Fairytale Keeper?

(What…what? But he’s right, this whole week, I haven’t…)

Roger: You don’t eat much and when you do, it’s like you’re chewing sand. Maybe you did…Or I should say, maybe you didn’t notice yourself?

(Tasked to keep a secret for a whole month as a Fairytale Keeper, and to record the evils before my eyes)

(Not to mention…Vogel’s sudden visit)

Desperate to just push through it all, I gradually neglected the things needed to live, like eating and laughing.

I was like a plant slowly wilting away.

Roger: I know you got a lot of things on your mind that make you anxious. But it’s times like these where you gotta work on yourself. Eat, sleep, play, laugh, recharge your energy. Otherwise you’ll easily get swallowed up by despair in this darkness, lil’ lady.

Kate: …

Roger’s words pierced my heart.

(He’s right…What was I so weak for?)

I could struggle all I wanted, but the anxiety would never leave until I’m safely out of this darkness.

I know that…but.

(The only one who can truly protect me, is me)

(I absolutely cannot give in)

Kate: …You’re right. There’s no time for weakness or despair. Thank you Roger. Now then, time to dig in!

As if to get over it…I stuck my fork into the steaming meat before me and brought it to my mouth.

Kate: Mm…delicious.

(...Somehow, it felt like I was properly enjoying food for the first time in a while)

(It’s so good to be alive and have delicious food)

Roger: …

Jude: Oi, who do ya think you are takin’ the first bite.

Kate: Ah, sorry! I got ahead of myself.

Ellis: Don’t worry about it Kate. Here, try these chips with rock salt.

Kate: Wow, this is really good! It pairs well with alcohol.

Roger: Oh, you drink pretty well. Barkeep! Two more beers.

Barkeep: Gotcha. Two large beers comin’ right up.

The golden beer and the food were delicious, and laughter reached my ears.

(...Ah, this is fun. I feel like I’m finally able to breathe)

(He pretty much dragged me here, but I’m glad I accepted Roger’s invitation)

I didn’t know how much of Roger’s actions were calculated and how much was in good faith.

But it’s a fact that his pushiness saved me.

(Roger really does have a lot of common sense and is like a mature older brother)

With those simple thoughts in mind, I continued on drinking and drinking…

--

—I woke up in a soft bed.

(Huh…last night I was drinking at the bar, and)

While in my drowsy and lethargic state, I groped around for a warm cloth when—

Kate: Hm…? …??

(...I’m naked?!)

I quickly wrapped myself up in a blanket with only my face peeking out.

…And noticed something familiar laying by my pillow.

(...Glasses?)

The black-rim and intellectual-looking frame was definitely memorable.

(These glasses…)

The moment I nervously picked them up, the bed squeaked— 

Roger: Hey now, those glasses aren’t a toy…Come on, give it here.

When the glasses were snatched out of my hand, I looked up to see a half-dressed Roger hovering over me.

Kate: …W-why are you here…

When I looked at him, he smiled as if to tell me the question was pointless now.

Roger: You passed out drunk so I had to carry you back. And after dropping you off, you wouldn’t let me go.

Whether it was true or not, the way he said it made it sound like I was pleading for him and my cheeks warmed.

(I-I held Roger back?)

(And…moreover)

My eyes took in his muscular chest and abs that were freely on display.

(T-too much stimulation…)

(I don’t know where to look)

Not just his bare chest.

Muscular arms peeking out from his shirt, broad shoulders that connected to a thick neck, and a lean waist.

(But, he was like beautiful sculpture)

My eyes unconsciously traced the supple skin.

His muscular body disguised his intelligent features and that gap alone was enough to make me dizzy.

Roger: …It’s not bad being ogled like this.

Kate: Eh?!

Roger gave me the wickedest of grins.

I’d been unconsciously staring at his body and my cheeks burned in embarrassment.

Kate: S-sorry…

Roger: Don’t worry about it. You’re a lot cuter than you were yesterday.

Kate: Did I…end up doing something yesterday?

Roger: “Something”.

Roger lowered himself and whispered to me.

Roger: …Yeah, last night was pretty hot, wasn’t it lil’ lady?

(N-no way…Me and Roger?)

Next

-

*Darius says red riding hood but the subtitle says robin

**Send help. I have no idea what the heck バンブリーキ is. Perhaps bramboraky according to @/hoerayner

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part thirty-two

summary: the end.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n:

the end!! omg!!guys thank you so much for being here through this whole story and this was LONG!! over 110k words of a lot of nonsense but to anyone who's made it this far,, ilysm. i'm gonna miss them!! stop they were everything to me :(

ANYWAY same with LTPF if you've read that, there will be an epilogue coming soon and also definitely more oneshots and maybe bonus content that i wish i included in the original series but just didn't make the cut. so stay tuned for that!!

if you liked this series, i'm obligated as well to plug my NEXT series that's coming soon, 'requiem'!! i am so excited about it so please follow me for updates on when that will be posted!! def soon!!

just one more time i wanted to say ily, and thank you :')

see you soon!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

You keep your books tucked firmly to your chest as you walk into your first class, wearing the spare clothes you brought to Sejanus's house on Friday just in case you had to change. In case you spilled something on your white dress, or just felt the need to change- ironically enough.

Your normal seat in the front centre of the room is obviously free, considering also that you were quite early this morning. You had some readings you needed to catch up on anyway, in order to be prepared for midterms which were apparently coming up quickly.

It isn't long after you open your book before others begin to shuffle in, and much to your surprise, you feel the chair next to you pull back and see someone sit down. "Hi, Victor." The boy's voice says, forcing you to look up from your book.

Dark hair and dark eyes, you think you remember his name was Cancor. "Oh, my name is Y/N." You correct him kindly, adjusting nervously in your seat.

"I know that." He says, eyes merely slits as he seems to look past your own eyes and into your soul.

"You're... You're Cancor, correct? I don't believe we've properly met." You add, sitting up straighter.

"Crane." He states. "My last name is Crane."

"That's... yes that's a lovely name." You smile nervously, unsure what to say but still wanting to fill the silence he seemed so comfortable with. "Alliteration is such a fun thing to consider when naming a child..."

"It means spider." He states. "Did you ever meet my sister?" He asks, ignoring your nervous ramblings.

"No, no I don't believe I have. What is her name?" You ask.

"Arachne." The boy says, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly while you take a moment to wrack your mind to place it. He's acting as if you should know her, and suddenly you feel like you do.

You tilt your head slightly, allowing the memory to hit you like a freight train.

The funeral.

All you really remembered until now was being chained to a truck and paraded down the street you now recognize as the Corso, the body of his sister's tribute swinging above you while people screamed and cursed at you. Then, Coryo sang the national anthem.

"Oh, yes. Of course." You nod slightly, a frown settling over your features. "I am so sorry for your loss. Truly."

"No, you're not." He spits. "You don't care, and the fact that you're pretending to is just vile. She meant less than nothing to you and those animals- otherwise, she would still be here!"

You stammer, pushing yourself back in your seat as you grip the bottom of the chair. "No, no- I am sorry, I am. That should not have happened. It- It was horrible."

"Cancor." You silently thank the universe for your professor's quick intervention. "If you wouldn't mind returning to your usual seat and leaving Miss Y/L/N alone."

"We were just talking." Cancor replies, suddenly sweet as honey- cool and collected as if he wasn't just berating you over your faults in his sister's death.

"Go." Dr. Nero tells him again, nodding up toward the back of the lecture hall. "Before I am forced to ask you to leave."

The boy sighs in quiet frustration, slightly aggressive about his movements as he grabs his bag and stomps up the stairs.

You look up to your professor who greets the look with a curt nod and the smallest of sympathetic smiles.

It does nothing to quell the lightness you feel that usually signifies the trembling of your hands, which would soon spread. You close your eyes trying to take deep breaths that wouldn't come, but all you can see is the bodies of Arachne Crane and her tribute by the bars that had separated them. You have to open your eyes to remind yourself you aren't standing in the street, wrists still shackled to a truck. You can feel the chains weighing your wrists down to the desk as you think about it. You had almost entirely forgotten about the whole event- and the guilt of that was suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Cancor had never had the privilege of forgetting the way you had.

Quickly, you shove your books into your bag and stand, heading for the door. "Y/N." Dr. Nero's voice forces you to stop and you just turn to look at him, knowing full well you're unable to speak. "It's 8:58."

You nod slightly, looking down at the marble flooring that lay between you. "Start without me." You mumble, not giving him the chance to respond before you're leaving, accidentally bumping shoulders with some of the final students to enter.

You hadn't missed a single class yet, attendance was important, but right now you couldn't care less. Why should you even have the privilege of attending classes at the university in place of some of the academy's brightest minds who never got the chance? Like Arachne, and the three other mentors who were killed because of the games. You knew it wasn't necessarily your fault, but you understood Cancor's anger being directed at you. In a twisted way, you felt like you deserved it. They were meant to survive, you never were. Yet, here you were- a walking reminder to those students' friends and families that for some reason, they had to lose someone they shouldn't have.

You quickly pace down the nearly empty hall, trying to hold back your tears as long as you could. Feeling like you can't breathe is making it exponentially harder, and you wonder how you even walked out of the arena as it was. Adrenaline is a crazy beast- and you wished you had some leftover now. Sometimes, in moments like this, you wonder if you had used up your life's supply of the chemical the last time you were here in the Capitol.

Coryo was already running late after spending probably far too long conversing with your brother in the car, but he couldn't resist taking a detour into the arts building. He would just pass through, past your room just to glance inside and see if you were really there. Just to get a look at you.

He doesn't need to, though, turning a corner and just catching a glimpse of your hair as you disappear with a left turn at the end of the corridor. He was sure it was you.

Walking past your classroom he looks anyway, just to double-check, and as he suspected, you were gone.

He quickens his pace, taking advantage of his height difference over you to try and catch up with more rushed steps. "Y/N?" He calls out as he turns the same corner, but you're already hidden from view and the door at the far end of the hall is slamming shut.

As he continues down the corridor, a furrow knits its way into his brow. You must be headed to where you normally eat lunch, that is all that would make sense.

Without thinking, he follows. The courtyard is almost empty, aside from your frame curled up on the grass, knees tucked to your chest and bag discarded halfheartedly beside you on the damp grass. The sun casts a shadowed glow where it isn't blocked by trees or buildings in its path of rising, the grass is wet under his shoes as he quickly approaches you.

"Hey- hey, Y/N/N, it's me." He calls out as he walks up behind you. You turn your head, and then stand quickly.

"It- It's okay. I'm fine." You stammer, wiping your cheeks frantically. "You should g-go, you're already late."

"I'm not leaving you like this." He shakes his head, holding a hand out toward you as you avoid his eyes. "Tell me what happened, love. Talk to me."

You shake your head, shoulders backed to an invisible wall as you hold your palms over your face. You can't look at him right now- especially right now, when all you want is for him to hold you.

"You're okay. I'm not gonna hurt you." He whispers, taking a hesitant step closer. By now, you know full well he wouldn't hurt you. Not in the way he's saying, at least.

"You should go." You choke over the words that feel heavy in your mouth.

"Y/N, love, I told you, I'm not going anywhere." He repeats calmly.

"I want to go home." You sob. "I shouldn't have won, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't even be alive!" You say, voice picking up in frustration. "It's not fair. Nothing is fair, nothing."

He frowns as you lower your hands, clenching your fists at your sides. "Of course, you should be here."

"You don't get it!" You snap, and you hardly even sound like yourself.

This was it. This was your breaking point.

Coryo is taken back by your outburst, almost flinching at the abruptness of your shift. He had never seen you angry- he didn't even know it was possible. Of course it was. He'd spent all this time, all this energy trying to convince people that you were human. Anger comes with that, hand in hand like your cat and the fur that's clinging to his clothes at this very moment. You couldn't have one without the other. "Then explain it to me." He urges you, trying to sound anything other than defensive.

Your eyes soften, as if you're suddenly realizing that your anger was not entirely placed on him. You shake your head. "It's not... I cannot explain it and that is the worst part." You sigh, but the rage flashes in your eyes again as you look down. "Why was it me and not any of them? Why did so many of your classmates have to die? Why did Marcus escape only to face a worse fate than the rest of us, when he tried to help me too? Why am I enrolled at this stuffy university when my spot belongs to Arachne Crane in rights?"

"Arachne Crane?" Coryo mutters, eyes widening with confusion while he wonders where on earth that came from. He shakes his head quickly to dismiss the thought. "Marcus tried to save you, yes, that could have been you who escaped, that's true- but you were too busy trying to save me. And you did." He knows better than to accuse you of regretting that. He knows you don't.

When you don't reply, just staring at him head on now, frustrated and confused, he continues. "If we're going by this unexplainable logic of the universe, I think that it was you because instead of saving yourself, you saved me. And you did it again in the arena, when you went back for Jessup when I was looking at the screen and begging you silently to just ditch him. Same exact thing when you tried to get little Wovey up into the rafters with you, and hell! When you stared down the barrel of my gun, shaking head to toe from fear just to save the life of the Mayor's daughter, who was nothing but awful to everyone!" He says, gesticulating wildly to get his point across. "I've been trying to tell you for months, Y/N. It was you because you are the only person in this whole damn country who cares about someone other than themselves."

You just shake your head, and it's frustrating to him that you're unwilling to accept what he knows to be true. "It didn't work." You sniff. "You're the only one who survived me."

"Listen to me," Coryo says, reaching out and holding your face in his hands- throwing caution to the wind regarding how he knows to handle your panic attacks. "I survived because I had to learn how to love you."

You look into his eyes, flitting your own back and forth between them in an attempt to place any signs of deception. Blue, baby blue. You find none.

"And I did. And I'll love you every day for the rest of our lives. I don't want you to think for a minute that I'm embarrassed by that fact." Your eyes are squeezed shut by the time he finishes speaking, his thumbs swiping over the tear stains left down your cheeks by anger.

"It's not your fault." You mumble, shaking your head under his hold. "I do not fault you for being embarrassed."

"I'm not." He says again. "Look at me, please, love."

You pry your eyes open to face him.

"I've... I've had all this pressure my whole life to be perfect, and now it's worse than ever and I should have never let that get pushed onto you. I want you to be happy, that's all. I want you to be free to do whatever you want, and right now, the cost of that comes with who we are in public. Do you understand?"

"Yes." You say softly, but he can see that's not fully true.

"Here, in the Capitol, everything is a social ladder. We cannot marry who we wish, we marry who we should. Rarely ever do kids here date for fun."

"Like Lucy Gray and the silly mistakes she made over and over again with Billy Taupe." You comment, trying to lighten the tension you feel radiating off his body.

"Yes." He chuckles, smiling hopefully at you, relieved that you understood. "But I want nothing more on this earth than for you to be the one I spend my life with. I want to make you happy, but first, in order to do that, you have to be someone that they will accept. And I am so, so sorry I didn't explain this to you sooner, but I want you to know I've never wanted you to change."

"We don't need them to like me to be happy. That will be an endless uphill battle, Coryo." You shake your head slightly, placing your hands over his as they slide down onto your neck.

"It will be uphill but we can do it." He assures you quickly. "You're already well-liked, we're-"

"Were you not happy in Twelve?" You ask, a sad look in your eyes.

He stops, tilting his head slightly at you. He was happy in Twelve, now that he considers it. He hadn't thought about it, he was so focused on hating everything but you that he just assumed it was awful, but really, it wasn't. Not in hindsight."Is that what you want?"

You smile in response. No one had asked in months what you wanted. What you really wanted.

"What do you want, love? I'll pack up and move us back to Twelve tomorrow if that's what you really want." He says again, nothing short of desperation in his tone.

Faced with the option, you're really not sure. Yes, of course, you'd like to go home. It was very tempting. But Coryo was right, this education was important. You imagine for a moment the life you could have back home if you stuck it out a few more years. And maybe by then, you'll be better accepted here. Maybe by then, the Capitol will be a different place, and you'll be truly happy here. With him, and he will have the power to make the games go away.

"No, no." You shake your head. "I want to do something splendid...something heroic or wonderful that won't be forgotten after I'm dead. I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it and mean to astonish you all someday." You say, and he can tell from your change in notation that the words are not your own. It was something new, unlike what he had heard from you before. He smiles. "I want to be with you, first and foremost."

"You'll always be with me. Where you go, I follow." He assures you. "I was happy in Twelve, if only because I had you."

"That should not be enough, though." You insist.

"It has been for you, hasn't it?" He asks, and you nod, biting your tongue.

He grins. "Then I promise, love, that would be more than enough for me."

"O-okay." You agree, suddenly flushed by his stare. Coryo smiles, looking briefly at your lips as you speak. To him, they seemed more tempting now than ever.

He starts to lean in and you move your head back quickly, a worried look crossing your face and you look around. "Coryo, we-"

"I don't care." He says quickly, gently pulling you back to him and pressing his lips to yours. Consequences are the last thing on his mind right now.

You take hold of the front of his delicately pressed shirt, pulling him closer with his hands on your neck. Here, in the middle of the university courtyard with the sun shining down on your back, everything is okay and at least for now, the cold night has given way to a warm, sunny morning.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @cascadingbliss

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[kurishiri]

01┊Dark If —Alfons Sylvatica—

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: implied alcohol consumption, implied dub-con ("consented" while intoxicated; fade to black)

Victor: Miss Kate, may you reach the happiest end with your hands.

V: ——Now, off you go to the twisted fairytale world.

When I awoke, I was on top of the bed within a beautiful castle.

(...This place...)

When I looked around, I realized it was all around silent, as if my surroundings were being blanketed by a curtain of night.

Blond-haired, blue-eyed man: ...Are you awake?

(...Such a pretty person. In fact, I’ve never seen anyone more so than him.)

Blond-haired, blue-eyed man: Good morning, Snow White.

(Wait, I’m Snow White!? So that must mean I was sent to the world of Snow White.)

Kate: ...Um, I apologize for my rudeness seeing as we’ve only just met, but may I ask who you are?

Queen Elbert: ...Elbert. Or as I’m called, ‘the Greedy Queen.’

(This person is the queen?)

In the fairy tale Snow White, the queen was a character who envied the beauty of Snow White, and so she tried to use a poisoned apple to kill her.

(So this person might be the perpetrator of this world’s flaws?)

Kate: ...And why am I in this castle?

Queen Elbert: That’s because the hunter, Roger...

—— Flashback ——

Roger the Hunter: Hey, you there? This lil lady here fainted in the forest.

Queen Elbert: ...I am here.

—— End flashback ——

Kate: The nerve he has to treat people like objects! ...But, thank you for saving me.

This world was slightly different from the events of its fairy tale.

(...It must be because of that ‘missing thing.’)

Queen Elbert: ...Snow White.

Kate: Y-yes...

His [1] rather intense staring rendered me stiff as the beautiful queen tilted his head.

Queen Elbert: Are you hungry?

He took me to the dining room table, where a plethora of dishes were lined up.

(Whoa...there’s fluffy bread, corn potage, and even dessert!)

(Wait, wait, but what if there’s poison in them...)

Queen Elbert: ...Is there something you are unable to eat?

Kate: Ah, um... no.

He pulled back the seat, urging me to sit, before he sat one chair’s length away.

It was as though he was being considerate of how cautious I was.

Kate: Why go this far for me? This is the first time we’ve met, after all.

Queen Elbert: ...Why, you ask... I am looking for the most beautiful thing in the world.

Queen Elbert: And perhaps you may be that very thing.

The smile in his blue eyes was laced with madness and beautifully frightening,

but that faded the next moment like a summer mirage.

Queen Elbert: ...That, and I did not want you to be alone.

Kate: Alone?

Queen Elbert: ...I was thinking being alone the first thing you wake up would be quite lonely.

Madness and kindness... I felt both were a part of his true feelings, and I felt the caution slowly melt away.

Kate: I, too, am looking for a ‘missing thing.’

Queen Elbert: Oh, then... maybe asking Al would do you good.

Kate: Al?

Queen Elbert pointed to a single portrait,

where he and the profile of another person was painted.

Queen Elbert: He is my attendant, Alfons Sylvatica. And he is my mirror.

Kate: A mirror...

Queen Elbert: He will tell me whether something is beautiful... along with many other things.

(Um, so basically I should go and see this Alfons the Mirror person?)

Kate: And where might he be?

Queen Elbert: ??...? (O_O)

Queen Elbert: ...I wonder.

(What.)

After getting permission from Queen Elbert, I searched within the castle, but...

(He’s not here.)

(Or here.)

(He’s nowhere to be found! Which means he’s not in the castle then?)

???: You seem to be in quite a pinch, Snow White. If you’re looking for Alfons the Mirror, he’s at the pub.

(Wh—just now, someone’s voice...)

There on the windowsill was a small bird, the color of night.

Kate: A talking bird...?

Little bird: Talking I do. Here is the twisted fairytale world. So things here might go beyond what you know as common sense.

(I guess that’s true...)

Kate: So he’s at the pub? Thank you for telling me.

Little bird: Oh, and be careful so the back of your neck doesn’t get touched. For he possesses the ability to temporarily overwrite your perceptions.

Little bird: Well then, I’ll be going now!

And so, I left the castle and stepped into the pub, where a salacious fragrance wafted.

(That jet-black haired man from that portrait...)

Alfons the Mirror: For the Snow White who has awakened from her slumber. Would you care for an apple, by any chance?

Alfons the Mirror: ...Ahh, such lines do seem to reflect Elbie well, I’d say.

There he was, the person from the portrait.

Kate: Are you Alfons?

Alfons the Mirror: Indeed, I am that ‘Alfons’ in the flesh. And what brings you waltzing into a place like this so nonchalantly?

Alfons the Mirror: And here I was thinking you would rather be spoiled rotten by that collecting-crazed queen.

(If I’m to get any information, I need to speak openly about the situation I’ve been put into.)

Kate: Actually...

—— Time skip ——

Alfons the Mirror: So you wish to find this ‘missing thing’ to return to reality, I see. And why is it so important that you find it?

Kate: Huh?

Alfons the Mirror: I would imagine there is a mountain of ways you can return back? What need is there to get so bent on finding this missing thing?

Kate: And what other methods are you talking about?

Alfons the Mirror: Oh, you know, hitting your head somewhere, drowning in some river, or dropping dead then and there, all that jazz.

(...Some ‘methods’ those are...)

From the few minutes we’ve been talking, it was more or less pretty clear to me that this person was quite villainous.

Kate: It may be as you say. But... I can’t think that I’m the only one that needs saving.

K: If I find the root of this missing thing, this world won’t be twisted any longer. That is my happy end.

Alfons: Ahha! You foolishly earnest soul, you.

A: Compared to protecting yourself, the fact that this world is twisted and the matters of others is such trivial matters, you know.

Kate: You didn’t need to call me foolish... but anyway, is there a missing thing in this world then?

Alfons the Mirror: Maybe? Or maybe not.

Kate: Then do your best to remember.

Alfons the Mirror: Hmm... it does seem to be on the tip of my tongue...

With an ostentatious air about him, Alfons handed me a cocktail, yellow in color.

Alfons the Mirror: Then, until I remember, may I ask you to join me for a cup?

Kate: ...But, I’m in the middle of searching...

Alfons the Mirror: But that thing won’t be found in a day or two, no? If you don’t take a breather once in a while, it’s going to bite you back, you know.

The voice in my ear and the cocktail he swirled before me caused my rationale to waver a bit.

(...He may have a point. It is true I’ve always been feeling a bit tense.)

Kate: Then... I’ll have a little.

Alfons the Mirror: By all means, go on and down it all. Master, one for me as well.

—— Time skip ——

In a small room at the back of the pub, two shadows swayed.

Alfons the Mirror: Hehe, come now... walk a bit more steady, why don’t you.

Kate: mmm...hic, I gan’t dring...any more...

Alfons the Mirror: Aha, you’re drunk through and through, I see.

When Alfons tried to lay Kate down on the bed, she grabbed tightly around his neck.

Alfons the Mirror: Oh dear...

Such a gesture stemmed from innocence, as if she was a child who lost her way back.

Alfons the Mirror: You shouldn’t embrace men with such a lonely look.

Alfons’ fingers slipped to the back of Kate’s neck as he murmured in her ear.

Alfons the Mirror: I am your very precious lover. Now then, surrender your body and heart to me...

Kate: ...Al...fons?

Alfons the Mirror: How about we forget about aaall the troublesome stuff...

to be continued…

← prologue [@.nightghoul381] next →

NOTES:

[1] I'm unsure about exactly what pronouns to use here; it was unclear (due to the way pronouns and subjects can be dropped or implied in Japanese). In Elbert's dark if story, for the majority he is referred to with feminine pronouns, and he's referred to as a queen here. I just decided to use masculine pronouns here, but just note it could very much be feminine too.

masterlist 🗝️ ┋ ko-fi ☕️ ┋ comms🤍

[yaeggravate]

could capitano be anfortas alberich?

it's more likely than you think 👍🏽✨️

arguments in favor of anfortas = capitano:

capitano's potential constellation could be the three nails which is a reference to jesus' crucifixion. i honestly can't picture this constellation belonging to any other harbinger unless sandrone's ruin guard is carrying some heavy bagage.

anfortas is named after the fisher/sinner king from arthurian legend, he is usually portrayed as a jesus-like figure in more modern adaptations, due to his never-ending suffering. he was also stabbed with the holy spear in the same side as jesus during his crucifixion.

in the poem the waste land by t.s. eliot, he associates the fisher king with the tarot card the three staves. in some tarot decks (most notably thoth which is pictured below), the three staves are positioned exactly like the three nails

anfortas' fate is currently unknown, as he is khaenri'ahn it's not unreasonable to assume he could've survived for 500 years

his relative kaeya was conveniently present when varka's letter about capitano was being read in an event about lost family members

according to varka, capitano hides his face so no one can know his identity and origins. anfortas was part of the schwanenritter which is a reference to the swan knight legend, where the knight had to conceal his identity, name and origins

varka says capitano is an ordinary mortal with the courage to go up against gods which is basically khaenri'ah's motto

capitano's helmet has a makeshift 8-pointed star on it which is usually associated with khaenri'ah (tbf 8-pointed stars can also be found in other places, such as the adventurer's guild, the hexenzirkel and now natlan.)

capitano has blue eyes and so far every khaenri'ahn character we've met has blue-ish eyes with the exception of arlecchino who is descended from the crimson moon clan

anfortas and capitano are both commanders: anfortas was the knight marshal of the schwanenritter (and temporarily became regent of khaenri'ah), capitano is thee captain, the highest ranked harbinger

anfortas' personality is unclear so we can't really compare it to capitano's. BUT what we do know is that he temporarily filled in as regent when irmin was unavailable. he also executed his own comrade after they committed treason by sabotaging a machine yet he still gave them a proper knight's funeral. this could allign with the absolute righteousness and honor capitano is known for

capitano is highly praised and respected within the fatui and the same can be said for anfortas who was close enough to the king that he could petition him and whose subordinates believed in him until the end

An Abandoned Letter... I often think lately about how future generations will tell my story. Will I be a sinner? Or a hero... The situation here is dire, but I believe that our Marshal will find a way. I believe...

the author of this letter wondering if they'll be seen as sinners or heroes and believing anfortas will save them fits pretty well with the three nails constellation, a symbol of salvation and redemption

(there's some interesting irony in anfortas' name meaning infirmity (weakness/illness), which is the opposite of capitano being a strong man. capitano's commedia dell'arte counterpart was a braggart who only boasted about his strength.)

capitano is now in natlan. for some reason, kaeya's hidden strife letters are filled with fire imagery. kaeya's dad says the alberich clan "should lead lives as those who blaze like fire rather than those who wallow in the embers", which is reminiscent of the "secret" the pyro archon shares/will share with the traveler according to the travail trailer: "the rules of war are woven in the womb: the victors shall burn bright, while the losers must turn to ash."

*update: natlan is right next to one of anfortas' ruin golems and in a new world quest we find out there were two khaenri'ahn knights in natlan who were ordered by someone highly respected to stop the abyss from spreading. based on context clues their superior is likely anfortas. perhaps anfortas also ended up in natlan and something happened to him there

**update: the schwanenritter were most likely part of the black serpent knights, khaenri'ah's royal guard, since one of the schwanenritter used the same model as a black serpent windcutter. isn't it convenient then that capitano is dressed as a black serpent with those black scales and visor in the triangular shape of a snake's head?

arguments against the theory:

anfortas lost his left eye, while capitano is said to have dark blue eyes plural. however, it's unclear if anfortas literally lost his left eye or was merely blinded. he could have also grown back the eye cause idk khaenri'ah genes/abyss goo/bald

three harbingers from khaenri'ah seems a bit overkill. (though you could argue we already have three harbingers from snezhnaya: childe, pulcinella and pantalone.) we don't have any harbingers from natlan (or liyue), and currently capitano seems like the most likely option. however, knowing hyv's colorism, it could be columbina instead. according to the harbinger wheel columbina should be arriving after arlecchino, although we haven't seen her in any of the trailers yet. (all hope for brown-skinned capitano is not lost if he's related to kaeya though!)

since anfortas is the "fisher" king and ended up with one eye, he could be kaeya's "pirate" grandpa or even his dad and i'm not too confident hyv is gonna imply capitano had a lover with kids unless he gets signora'd lol. on the other hand, arthurian anfortas was famously saved by his nephew, which could mean our anfortas is kaeya's uncle.

***update: capitano can use nightsoul which is exclusive to people from natlan. however, the traveler can also use phlogiston (though no word on nightsoul yet) and mavuika senses an "unusual presence" inside cap which could explain his powers

[ddarker-dreams]

Chrollo tells you a story from his childhood centered around bread.

(Warnings for religious mentions and canon typical depictions of his hometown, Meteor City)

“Hm… how uncanny is that.” 

Knowing that he’ll continue speaking cryptic phrases until you express an interest you most certainly don’t have, you sigh, and rest your cheek on your fist. 

“What’s uncanny?” 

Please don’t mean the bread, please don’t mean the bread, please don’t mean the bread— 

“This bread loaf,” he inclines his head toward it, as if you couldn’t spot the table’s lone occupant, “It’s bringing up some memories.” 

He’s really going to talk to you about bread. Fuck.

“Meteor City, destitute as it is, was an attractive prospect for missionaries. My friends cared little for the religious doctrine they’d expound, but I always found the teachings fascinating. It wasn’t uncommon to go days without eating, so they’d come along with me on the sole condition that food was being provided. The priest, knowing this, had me relay the message that at his next teaching, there’d be fresh bread. Children overflowed from the tent that normally only I would occupy. He preached his sermon.” 

There’s a nostalgic air to him as he continues. “By the end, he presented us with a challenge: whoever capable of best verbally expressing their devotion to God could have the bread. Each child present wanted to be the victor. There was a great deal of murmuring and thinking. He had us form a line, where one by one, we’d give what we hoped to be the winning response. My friend Phinks was first. ‘If I’d been there, I’da stomped the shit out of that snake,’ is what he went with. As you can imagine, the priest kept going down the line. 

Eventually, he got to me. I’d been closely monitoring his body language and facial expressions. From what I could tell, no answer so far had even come close. I decided to take a different approach. From his theology, I could tell he was of the Roman Catholic persuasion. And so I suggested that to best prove our love, we should have mass. I thought that by focusing on the collective rather than oneself, I’d meet his unspoken criteria. He intended to keep the results to himself until everyone had spoken their piece, but no sooner as the words left my mouth did I know that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. 

After everyone had their turn, he brought the bread out for all to see. While we were all excitedly wondering who the lucky individual would be, he raised his voice and began admonishing us. He quoted Matthew, ‘It is written: Man must not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God’. With that, he left us there, so that we could ‘think about what we’ve learned’.” 

Your jaw practically hits the floor. 

“I intended to counter his points later that night to see if I could win the community the bread they were promised. While I was preparing, a few children happened by, eating the bread that was pulled from under our noses. I asked where they got it from — they said Uvogin. Apparently, he learned what had happened and was incensed. I went to go see him so I could ask how he convinced the priest to give him the bread. I didn’t find Uvo at the place he normally hung out at, but I did see the priest.

He was… shall we say, arranged in a way that’s strenuous on the body. All the while he kept chanting, ‘Pater, aphes autois, ou gar oidasin ti poiousin’, though he lay dying. It left a strong impression on me. Especially because his pronunciation was slightly off… but more than that, I thought it interesting he held firm to the belief which landed him in this position. A belief he didn’t even understand properly. He passed with a content expression. He must’ve fancied himself a martyr. It later became a popular joke that in the end, he did prove that you can’t live on bread alone, since it didn’t seem to do him much good.” 

“How… how old were you?” 

“Seven or eight, I believe.” 

You get up from the table. You can feel his eyes following your every movement, from the suite’s dining room to the living space it's connected to. The suitcase you’ve yet to unpack sits patiently as you rummage through its contents. Grabbing what you need, you return to the table, where Chrollo regards you with a curious countenance. 

Your antidepressants rattle inside a small orange container as you put it before him. How he gets the medication, you haven’t the slightest clue. It’s more convenient to receive them from your enigmatic kidnapper than an uninsured trip to the psychiatrist. He’s got one thing going in his favor, at least. 

“Do you already need a refill?” 

You shake your head. 

“Just… after hearing that story… I think you might want to consider getting some of these for yourself. High dose.” 

[rainbow-nerdss]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Enjoy this hit from the bucktommy pit I've fallen into over the past few days! 💙💙

“Eddie gave me a shovel talk, you know?” Tommy says, next time they get together. They're at Buck's again, and Buck is cooking for them. He drops the spatula at Tommy's announcement, spinning to look at him. “He what? Jesus, I am so sorry, he shouldn't have—” “It's fine,” Tommy assures him. “It was cute. He cares about you.” Buck snorts. “Sure. He hasn't scared you off, at least?” "Nah, trust me, I've sparred with the guy enough times to know I can take him if I need to.” Buck raises an eyebrow. “I wouldn't underestimate him. That guy knows how to fight dirty. Trust me. He's scrappy.” “Scrappy, huh?” Buck turns back to the pot and stirs it again. “Hey, come taste this?” He holds out a spoon. Tommy joins him at the stove, standing far closer than necessary, almost flush against Buck's back as he takes the spoon in his mouth, chews, and swallows. “Delicious,” he announces. “Is that Bobby's Chili?”  Buck nods. "Yup!" “Man, he was always so secretive about that!” Tommy complains. “How'd you talk him into sharing?” “Pays to be the favorite, I guess!” Buck preens. “So, what? Eddie suddenly decided to go all white knight protecting my virtue now I'm dating a guy?” He asks, steering the conversion back around. Tommy leans against the countertop beside Buck. “Nah, nothing like that. He just said that… He reminded me, forcibly, that you're a good guy, and I should probably refrain from hurting you, if I can help it.” Privately, a part of Buck glows at the knowledge that Eddie did that for him, even while he plans to rip him a new one for interfering. “I should clarify, Evan. I'm not… I’ve mentioned Victor, right? My ex?” Buck nods, turning to face Tommy in order to give this his full attention. “He sort of… did a number on me. Meeting you, doing… this, it's great. I'm just not…” “You're not ready for something serious,” Buck realizes. Tommy nods. “But, what we've been doing so far…?” “Is great! The dates, the, uh… other stuff, all amazing, but—” “You just don't want anything more serious than that.” “Exactly. If that's a deal-breaker, I can—” “No!” Buck rushes, putting a hand on Tommy's chest. “I mean, this is good for me too. Takes some of the pressure off, actually.” Tommy visibly relaxes, and Buck takes a moment to turn down the heat on the stove, leaning further into his space. “You said you were a relationship guy,” Tommy says, clearly wanting to make a hundred percent sure. Buck does him the courtesy of taking a moment to consider his answer. “I used to think I was. I thought my options were either ‘serious relationship’ or ‘meaningless sex that left me feeling like crap’.” He steps closer, close enough that he can feel Tommy's breath ghost across his skin. “But lately I've been discovering the joys of things being… somewhere on a spectrum. Keeping things fluid.” “Yeah?” Tommy asks, moving even closer. They might as well be kissing now, but they aren't quite, just a hair between them. “Yeah,” Buck repeats. “Though,” he adds. “For the sake of clarity. When you say other stuff, is that referring to the flying lessons you still owe me, or—” Buck pulls away just a fraction, just enough to allow Tommy the opportunity to reach out and keep him there, pulling him back into a dizzying kiss.

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[callsign-rogueone]

our girl - d.a + x.r.

Dain Aetos x reader x Xaden Riorson You and Xaden have been hooking up for a while now, but Threshing throws a wrench (and another person) into your relationship. [request] words: 2.5k (went a little overboard lol, this dynamic was so fun to think about) 🏷: FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME SPOILERS. NSFW at the end. she/her reader. I did this one a little differently; a full scene with dialogue, and then headcanons about what the relationship would be like (sfw, nsfw + angst; I apologize in advance…) banner made by user cafekitsune!

You dismount, managing to land on your feet. Maybe the gauntlet had been good practice after all, and not just a form of torture. The flight field is slowly filling in with dragons and their chosen riders. Dain is standing next to you with a massive red daggertail. Nice.

Your two dragons look at each other, and for a moment you’re worried they’re going to start a fight, but they just bump heads softly. They’re… friends?

Then Dain’s dragon turns toward you, looking you in the eye, and you freeze, holding completely still as it sniffs you. You must pass inspection, because he pulls back after a few seconds, satisfied, but you don’t dare move, your heart still pounding.

“Relax, girl. I will not hurt you.”

You startle at the second voice speaking to you, stumbling back in shock. A shimmering red string has appeared beside the soft blue one you share with Lann. You tug on it gently, and Dain’s eyes snap toward you, having felt the pull.

“They’re mated.”

“Smart boy,” Cath purrs.

You’re still trying to get used to having another being speaking in your head, hearing your every thought, but now you have two?

You don’t have time to complain about it before Xaden comes running toward you.

Both Lann and Cath stand taller, flaring their nostrils. Cath looks like he’s contemplating how Xaden would taste.

Xaden comes to a stop a few yards away, not wanting to provoke them. It’s easy enough for him to put it together, seeing Dain standing behind you with the mated pair. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Cath blows a puff of foul-smelling steam at Xaden in warning. “Tell him to watch his tone.” 

You don’t.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Xaden says, a look in his eye you’ve never seen before; pure anger.

You take a step back, bumping into Lann’s foreleg. She curls her neck down, placing her head between your body and Xaden’s. You’ve only been bonded all of ten minutes, but she’s already willing to protect you with her life.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Dain challenges, crossing his arms. “Nor is it mine.” 

Your stomach flips. You’d never expected that Dain would be the one defending you here.

“I should gut you before the bond gets any stronger,” Xaden threatens. What is he so mad for?

“You of all people should know that the consequences can be dire. You won’t risk her life in that way.”

“What the hell are the two of you talking about?” You ask, but they don’t answer, too busy threatening each other.

“Human males and their arguing,” Lann sighs. “Were they dragons, they’d fight to the death and the victor would keep you.”

“That remains a possibility,” you reply quietly, still watching the two of them. Xaden certainly looks like he’s contemplating murder right now. 

“I could just incinerate him, but Sgaeyl would have my head if I did,” Cath muses, sounding bored. “And you seem attached.”

You turn to glare at him. “Not funny.”

“Threats from someone your size are only humorous,” Cath replies, still watching the two men argue.

“Like it or not, Riorson, she’s my responsibility now,” Dain says firmly. What is that supposed to mean? Why does Dain care all of a sudden if you live or die?

“Do not forget that you have a voice in this matter, too,” Lann adds.

She’s right.

“Quit it, both of you!” You interrupt before they can come to blows, and both boys turn toward you, quieting. “Stop talking about me like I’m not even here!”

Their eyes soften.

“Darling, I didn’t mean-“ Xaden begins.

You cross your arms over your chest, glaring up at the boy. “I’m not done,” you say, and he falls silent. “Dain’s right; neither of us asked for this, but it happened, and there’s no changing it now. I know you two hate each other, but I will not have you two fighting over me like I’m some kind of object. Neither of you have any claim to me. I’m not your girlfriend, and even if I was, you still don’t own me. I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions and keep myself safe.”

Neither of them respond, silent and guilty as your words settle in.

“And that is why I chose you,” Lann says proudly.

You ignore the compliment, stepping away from her and turning to leave, swiping the tears from your cheeks.

“I apologize, shrewd one.”

“It’s okay,” you say quietly. “You didn’t know.”

—————————————————

“Professor Kaori?” You ask quietly. “Can I ask you a few questions?”

He already knows why you’re here. “I heard about you and Aetos. Cath and Lann have been mated for nearly two centuries. Their bond is strong.”

“Have you known many other pairs like them?”

“A few,” he answers. “Dragons can live for millennia. Unlike us, they do not fall in love at age twenty, and they are quite selective with their partner. It is a lifelong commitment for them, and not one they take lightly.”

“And their riders?” You ask, holding your breath.

“A pair at Montserrat, who are now married, and another pair who regard each other like blood sisters.” 

He doesn’t mention anyone like you and Dain, who hardly know each other and don’t really care to.

“I‘ll make this clear with you, cadet, as you need to know this and accept it; you and Aetos will be stuck together until the end of your days. The four of you must exist as a functional unit. The grief of one of your deaths may be enough to end you all.”

Your eyes widen. So that’s why Xaden had been so pissed.

“You are both excellent students who will undoubtedly become skilled riders,” Kaori says. “Get to know each other in the coming weeks, and settle your differences sooner than later. The health of your relationship, even if it remains strictly professional, is vital.”

You thank him quietly, heading back to your room. You don’t have time to stew over the news; you have assignments due tomorrow.

Two hours pass. You’ve just finished proofreading your essay when there’s a knock on the door.

Dain and Xaden. You motion for them to come in, knowing that the two of them together outside your door will look deeply suspicious to any passerby. 

“What the fuck do you two want?”

Xaden nods at Dain, motioning for him to talk.

“We discussed it, and we realized you’re right. We’re just going to have to deal with this, and there’s no use in us fighting about it.”

Xaden speaks next. “You’ve proven that you can handle yourself, but we both still want to protect you. We care for you deeply, and that’s not going to change. We’re declaring a truce.”

“Whose idea was that?” You ask, wary.

“His,” Dain answers. Interesting. 

You look to Xaden. “And you’re fine with this,” you say, motioning between you and Dain, “that we’ll be able to speak directly to each other, that we can’t be apart for more than a few days, that we’re going to be stationed together for life?”

“Yes. I trust him not to hurt you, if only because his life is now tied to yours.”

That’s high praise coming from Riorson, who doesn’t fully trust anyone. You don’t dare ask why he feels this way.

“As you said,” Xaden continues, the tone of his voice making your heart flutter, “I hold no claim to you. You remain your own person, no matter how strongly I feel for you or how many nights we have spent together. The decision lies with you.”

“Dain?” You ask. 

He’s been silent, watching you with a softness in his eyes. He’d never taken a good look at you before, never appreciated how beautiful you are. “If he’s okay with it, and you are, then I am too.”

You’d never felt compassion for Dain, never cared if he lived or died, but now you’re overwhelmed with a sense that you need to protect him — to guard that little red string until your last breath. “I care for both of you as well. You’re both good men, who are important to me, and I’d like to have you remain in my life, if you promise to play nicely.”

You extend a pinky to each of them.

Dain looks confused.

“She doesn’t fuck around with pinky promises. This might as well be a blood oath for her,” Xaden explains, interlocking your fingers — this isn’t new to him.

Dain reaches forward, the warmth of his skin against yours sending a wave of soothing energy through you.

“Are you going to make us pinky promise each other too?” He asks playfully, the first joke you’ve ever heard him crack.

Xaden is unamused. “Don’t push it, Aetos.”

You giggle at his barely-restrained contempt. This is gonna be fun.

———————————————

sfw

Most of the quadrant know that yours and Dain’s dragons are mated, and that messing with one of the four of you means invoking the wrath of the other three. For the first time since conscription day, you can walk the halls alone without fearing for your life.

Nobody is aware of Xaden’s role in the relationship, and he prefers to keep it that way — it keeps the target off your back, and this way nobody can say that he’s giving you special treatment or shame you for having two partners. Garrick is the only person who knows about all of this, and he’s sworn to secrecy (that had certainly been an interesting conversation to have).

Xaden may not declare his feelings for you publicly, but he and Sgaeyl are always watching your back, ready to jump in should Dain not be there or should things get out of his control.

The two act generally indifferent to each other, but their love of you is enough for them to behave when you’re around.

They find a good balance between treating you like a princess and pushing you to be the best you can be, letting you do your own work and prepare yourself for what’s to come after graduation. 

nsfw:

The first time you felt Lann and Cath going at it was... interesting.

Xaden knew that this would happen eventually, having felt the same feeling before from Tairn and Sgaeyl. He had warned you days prior that the overwhelming need could lead you astray easily, but that he wouldn’t be mad if you and Dain acted on it.

And act you did. You became addicted to Dain’s touch as soon as you felt it, not wanting it to be a one-time thing, and that’s when the three of you decided that the boys would share you.

We all know Xaden is possessive. He used to call you “my girl” when it was just the two of you hooking up, but now you’re their girl.

“Aww, is our pretty girl needy?”

“I think our girl deserves a reward for being so good.”

Dain is shy at first, but he works up the confidence to start teasing you through the bond. He loves to watch you squirm from across the room as his voice speaks directly into your mind, telling you how hot you looked sparring, what he’s going to do to you tonight…

Xaden does something similar, his shadows brushing your arms and neck, sometimes even slipping under your clothes to touch your body when he can’t, giving soft caresses to your back and waist, but he’ll never take it too far — just enough to make you want his hands on you instead. 

They’re competitive as hell. They’ll tag team you, taking turns to see who can make you cum harder/faster. Your personal record is six times in one night, three apiece before you nearly passed out. They declared a tie, putting aside their egos to care for their sweet girl who had taken it all so well for them.

Sometimes you get both of them at once, and it’s a little overwhelming but so so good. Making out with one while the other is on his knees for you, or one holding your hand and telling you how pretty you look while the other pounds you into the mattress…

The two of them together are the ultimate brat taming combo, with Dain’s strictness and Xaden’s strength. If you give them attitude, get too cozy with another rider, purposely put yourself in danger, or neglect to take care of yourself (overworking, skipping meals, not getting enough sleep…), you’ll have some consequences to face when you’re back behind closed doors that night.

Xaden will tie your hands behind your back with his shadows, Dain edging you until you cry and apologize, promising that you’ll never break their rules again (but you inevitably do, and then they have to teach you your lesson all over again, hehe)

Despite how rough they can be with you, they always take incredibly good care of you afterward, staying to clean you up and hold you close, reminding you how much they love you.

You’re always in the middle when cuddling afterward, as they refuse to touch each other more than absolutely necessary, but you don’t complain, just happy to be held and fall asleep safe between your two strong men 🥰

and now some angst, because that’s what I do:

When you and Dain came back from RSC, bloody and limp, Xaden took care of both of you, finally showing some love to Dain and taking pity on him, helping bandage his wounds and wash the dried blood from his skin.

Eventually Xaden starts distancing himself from the two of you, worried that Dain will read his memories either on purpose or by accident, and find out about his dealings with the gryphon fliers, which you have no idea about.

He plays it off as being busy with third year / wingleader stuff, and you and Dain don’t think anything of it; Xaden has always been withdrawn, never the type to share his thoughts unprompted, and he likes to spend time alone.

When Violet bonds with Tairn at threshing, you realize how Xaden had felt when he realized you and Dain were tied together, only you were less angry and more sad. 

You knew this would happen, that Tairn would have to choose a rider eventually, but it still hurt you deeply. Dain held you all night, whispering sweet things to you while you cried and promising that he would never ever leave you.

You decide to rip the bandage off first, finding Xaden alone a few days later and telling him that for the sake of all four of you and your dragons, this should end here.

He agreed quietly, giving you one last kiss and holding you for a few minutes before finally letting go. 

When Basgiath found out about the revolution, about everything going on beyond the wards, the two of you didn’t hesitate to follow Xaden to Aretia — he may no longer be yours, but you still love him and would gladly fight by his side until the end of your days. 💔

[judesmoonbeauty]

IkeVil Act 2 Prologue Thoughts & Theories

This will contain spoilers, and some 18+ remarks at the end, so MDNI. Please see under the cut. As usual, these are just my thoughts and feelings.This is a word salad. And not that this is important or anything, but I was totally listening to Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake while writing this.

My first thought is: That's it?! With the Act 1 prologue being as long as it is, and even with other IkeSeries games like Pri, I felt it was too short. I was expecting and wanting more. Perhaps, Cybird will release more later, but I doubt it. Seems that they are keeping Vogel underwraps as much as they can. Less is more, maybe that's what they were thinking?

Next: The spotlight is on Vogel (as it should be), since they're apparently debuting with Roger's route. We're excited to meet them, still I didn't like that other than Victor and Harry (with his two lines of actual dialogue), no other Crown members had any lines. Their sprites just pop up (sans William because he's away per Victor), to show that they were present. Where is that amazing stare-off that went down in Roger's PV?

Tell me this wasn't it! Hopefully, we get more of their first meeting within the first chapter of each of their main stories. Which leads me to......

When Act 2 Takes Place: It takes place a week after Kate's tenure of being the Fairytale Keeper begins, and honestly, I LOVE that. We need a change of pace. Now, don’t get me twisted, there's nothing wrong with seeing her start her journey from the very beginning, but consider:

Act 2 is supposed to delve deeper into the topic of the Curse itself from what I understand. If that's the case, we need to move things along. It would make storytelling easier (I feel), if Kate has already spent a week with the villains and isn't completely ignorant about curses.

Also, we're moving further along in the routes, which tend to become progressively darker with each route passing (my opinion), not starting from the day after she arrives at the Castle will allow the writers to delve deeper into things, and give us more chapters for - hopefully - more lore.

I mean when Roger's route finally releases, I'd expect maybe some flashbacks in chapter one of the night after Kate bumps into them on their mission, and then she agrees to be his assistant. I don't personally want an entire chapter or three of that, and I would love to see Kate already with a week's worth of experience of working with Jude & Ellis (when Jude's route releases). I want her to be someone who is already capable, not stumbling around with (How do I prove myself?), we already know how she needs to do this, as she's demonstrated in their events. Let's skip that and get to the good stuff. Now about the new meat on the market.....

Darius: Well, we all know that we can't trust him, and he's super interested in William for some reason. I'd love to see that meeting happen. His disappointed face made me chuckle when he was told that William was away, and you can clearly tell that he isn't a fan of Victor. WHY?? Is it the scones? Is it because Victor keeps his precious Cursed babies safe from those who may try to destroy his family? Can't wait for the explanation, because as Victor has said in the past, he doesn't want his time with Crown to end, and Darius seems like the one who is going to end it. I know Darius hasn't done anything yet, but I feel like I need to say this: Don't be mean to Vivi!

He seems to be focused on recruiting other cursed members into his "family", and his vision of the cursed and non-cursed joing hands together and work alongside each other (so he says).

He seems to be the big-bad (Gilbert tragic backstory vibes from this one?), I could be wrong, but that's what my gut tells me. I mean they all have one, but I feel like his is going to be twisted. A type that I am weak for.....so I am trying not to look at him at all.

Anyways....He's certainly angelic looking, and because he's wearing such an obviously painted smile, I would like to see him irked (not that I hate his character or anything), I just think it'd be funny as hell to see a blood vessel pop up on his forehead.

Nica: Right, Nica is gorgeous and he is the one I look forward to the most out of the three. His sprite has teeth when it's a full smile (congrats, my man), and a part from him making a comment that he's happy that Kate is present because he doesn't want to be stuck with a bunch of guys, he's very sharp.

He discerned by himself the real reason why she was at the castle. Also, he seems to love money and power....my other weaknesses are men who enjoy those things (stares at Jude & Silvio).....he doesn't seem to have a tyrant attitude, but I look forward to learning more about him.

Also, I have a theory I believe he may be involved with Roger's betrayal of Ellis' cursed predecessor. In Roger's main route preview:

Roger: Oh, me and…..this person……We aren’t friends. This person and I are strangers.

Mysterious Youth: ….Thank you. - “That’s enough”. (screen shakes)

Now, this could be Ring, but I think it's Nica also because of the relationship chart. I re-read the relationship chart. .

So, it'll be interesting to see how this plays out and how off I am. On to our darling......

Ring: Beloved, sweet, cold, blunt and Disney Princess Ring. He is the next villain I look forward to the most. I mean, a shared cursed ability with your twin? Moody emo vibes? Adorably quiet and strong? Please, I love him and want to cuddle him. Not to mention that skin-tight, black turtle neck....yummy. A part from this, Ring doesn't seem to like making speculations based on limited information, and I appreciate that about him. I think it's also notable that is very upfront with everyone at Crown, that if they try to harm Vogel, he won't sit quietly. Love a man of action. My question is: Why is he Darius' puppet, but not Nica? Ok, last but not least......

Sprite Designs: As usual, Nana-sensei has incorporated symbolism of their fairytale group into their clothing with lots of sharp edges. Personally, I love her art style over all, I think it's beautiful. Of note, Darius has a feather as his belt buckle and I quite like that. His brooch on his neck is the recognizable symbol of Vogel (seems like a swan's head with feathers to me), and the brooch on his floofy coat looks like the face of a swan staring at me. *Ahem* And I think his little neck window could be bigger....just saying.

Nica & Ring both have identical tassels, although they are different colors. One of their tassels likewise feature the symbol of Vogel, but the other looks like cross-hatch marks(?) Feathers(?). They apparently share the same curse, perhaps it represents their shared cursed since they are connected as twins??

They also share swan-faced holster clasps. The one on Nica holds his gun holster, and Ring's holds a book holster (?).....it looks like a book holster. Is it a book about flowers? I mean, it could be a snack pouch, but really it looks like a book holster to me. Just saying.....

Last, but not least, Nica's rings. My first thought: That's hot as hell. Next thought: Shit it's going to hurt like hell when he fingers Kate. This entire time I've been worried over William's and Jude's long ass fingernails cutting Kate up when they enter her, but this this amount of rings (assuming he doesn't remove them), that's going to scrape her so much inside. They're like a toture device.....wait.....maybe he's a sadist too? Oohh, yay if he is! Either way, he is a fan a jewelry.

Well, that's it. There's a ton more that I could write about, but I'm sleepy and I'm rambling.

[Master Lists]