#i just want them to make out violently and act like it never happened

[ropebunnykant]

#liz im gonna be so real. as interesting as this is i think this is the first time i actually disagree w u#not even necessarily on the religious stuff but more on the bison stuff. bc i get a completely different read on him tbh#like i just don't think i would ever describe him as someone who enjoys killing ppl. 100% he has a violent streak in him#but imo that's not bc he has some inherent penchant towards violence that brings him joy but rather as a result of his upbringing#under lilly's roof. and also bc he's unstable as hell but i think that's also bc of lilly and probably what happened to his parents too#but i don't at all think he enjoys killing ppl. like one of the first things we're told abt him is that he wants out! he's so vocal abt it!#like he always wants to get things over and done with and get out asap! it's fadel who's meticulous and concerned! bison has always seemed#completely detached from the killing to me. the only time we saw emotion that kinda leans that way was in that first honeypot scene#but that imo that was a power thing and not a violence thing. and i think the fact that he FANTASIZES abt doing all these violent things#but in actuality does none of them proves that. he was angry and hurt and defaulted to extreme violence bc that's all he knows atp#but the reality is he did none of it. he easily could have. but he didn't bc he's NOT inherently violent in that way. he just doesn't know#how else to process his hurt. violence is all he HAS. like i don't think he was delighting in it at all i think he's just fucked up lmao#and while i agree that fadel is suspicious of lilly imo bison has always been presented as the thorn in her side#he's the one who questions her. who gets annoyed w her. who doesn't seem to give much of a fuck if the job gets done or not#he's the one who wants to get away and VOICES it. to her face. and while i do think that fadel probably KNOWS more#he's lowkey completely under her thumb in a way bison isn't. he doesn't wanna question her or doubt her and he doesn't want bison to either#now that could be bc he KNOWS she's crazy but either way i just completely disagree w the implication that bison is closer w lilly!#i think she KEEPS him close and butters him up more precisely BECAUSE she knows if she doesn't keep him docile he could be#a v big problem for her. fadel can be trusted to stay in line. bison can't be. so she HAS to give him extra attention. does that make sense#so while i do agree that bison believes what she says and takes what she tells them abt these 'bad people' at face value#imo that's more of a symptom of him just. not caring enough to question it than it is him wholeheartedly believing she's 100% honest#i'm so sorry 😞 u know i love u but this post was just not it for me </3

tags by @sunsetsover

first of all NEVER apologize for disagreeing with me, we're allowed to have varying opinions as long as we can be respectful about it which you very much were and i appreciate and adore the additions because i think you bring up some good points, even if we do clearly disagree. i'm gonna explain my personal reasoning for thinking the way i do, but my intention isn't necessarily to change your mind, just to back up my own thoughts on this because obviously i have reasons for viewing bison the way i do.

first of all, i absolutely agree that bison's violent streak is a result of his upbringing - and i actually would argue that his upbringing is also what led him to have a delight in it, which i do still stand by. because while i agree the instance we see in the first episode is very much also about power, i think it is also about the act of killing. to me, he has always seemed to be in a pretty positive state of mind when they're on the job, and while maybe that is just his way of detaching from it, i don't think he would involve himself so heavily in certain instances if that was the case. i've had this belief about him since episode one tbh, but i think what truly cemented it for me that bison enjoys it, was strangely enough, this gif that antania @riggerbison made from episode six.

to me, this gif is a PERFECT representation of how both fadel and bison cope with the killing and violence they enact (and yes, i know they don't actually kill these guys, but the point stands!). because on the one hand we have fadel, standing straight up, detaching himself from it, not looking at the guy at all. and then we have bison, cradling his guy to his chest, looking right at him, even looking like he's making those soft, sarcastic "hey it's okay" noises you see so often in this kind of media. and to your point, i think you can totally view this as bison also enjoying the power in it as well, but i also think the two are linked in a lot of ways. especially because canonically, bison is a sadist! we know, in great detail, the fact that he gets off on hurting someone else. and while obviously there's a difference between hurting someone in a safe and controlled environment and hurting them to kill them or inflict real damage, i don't think (SPECIFICALLY IN BISON'S CASE!) that the two are entirely divorced from one another, either.

i also don't think this is negated by the fact that bison wants to get out, either. antania and i actually talked about this back just after episode two, but bison's desire to get out is less about not finding enjoyment in the violence and the killing, it's the fact that he has no freedom. bison is someone that has never had control and he desperately, desperately craves it, so of course he wants to get out from under the thumb of someone who forces him into a life of isolation. because that has ALWAYS been bison's main complaint. if memory serves me correctly, he actually only directly states he doesn't want to kill people anymore once, and that's in his outburst to fadel in episode three. and i'm not saying that he's lying there, but i think the fact that the sentence is almost immediately followed "i want a boyfriend!" tells us that it's not actually because he doesn't like the killing aspect, and far more about the fact that he wants a social life. he wants friends, he wants a boyfriend, he wants to be open and honest with those people in his life. but those two things directly contradict each other and while maybe bison does enjoy the killing aspect, it's certainly not enough to rid him of his desire to have a community.

and i do agree bison is the thorn in lilly's side! but i don't think that comes from suspicion, i think it comes from again, a desire for freedom. i don't think bison views lilly as evil or doesn't believe the things she tells him, i think it again comes from his desire for control. i also think he's ALLOWED to be the thorn in her side because again, he's portrayed (at least from the limited scenes we've seen) as her favorite. like she has a soft spot for him. and i actually agree, like you said, i think it likely comes off that way BECAUSE she knows she has to butter him up so he won't make the wrong moves. but i also think it gives him more leeway than say, fadel, who while more visibly obedient, is also the one that will openly lie to her, will make sure bison keeps things from her, and he's the one that we suspect has already disobeyed her once before. i think the difference isn't so much who's more under her thumb so much as it is who is more strategic about her. and i think the fact that fadel is more strategic about his approach, while bison is willing to be vocal, does show which one of them actually trusts her more. if bison didn't have some level of respect and trust for her, he wouldn't be willing to speak up at all - he'd go behind her back more readily in the same way fadel does. because fadel is the one going behind her back and around her - and that's infinitely more dangerous than the person letting her know upfront what he thinks.

obviously i don't expect you to suddenly change your opinion, but i do hope this explains my thoughts on it all better :)

just woke up in a cold sweat because i think i’ve realized exactly what all the fucking religious symbolism is actually pointing out and like hoooooly shit. holy shit.

the fact that bison wears a jesus shirt in his fantasies of killing kant has been nagging me since the moment i realized it and i think i’ve realized why it is - and the reason for all of the things pointing towards and symbolizing bison as jesus.

it’s because that’s how bison views himself. not as actually jesus and the second coming, no, but he views himself as righteous, as a reckoning for all these people that they kill. he believes their mother when he says they only kill bad people, and that’s why he gets so much enjoyment out of it, why he involves himself far more in it than fadel, who always detaches himself. it’s why he delights in the idea of killing kant now, fantasizes about it, because he thinks that’s what’s right. kant betrayed him, and he’s a good person. he’s righteous. so that means kant deserves to die for it.

and that’s why kant is judas the betrayer AND john the beloved. because when bison knows it’s coming and turns a blind eye, he views himself the same way as jesus turning a blind eye to judas’s betrayal. and he’s the one the makes kant into john the beloved finding the tomb empty first because he hides from him (notably after kant had confessed to not wanting to lie to bison anymore)!

bison views himself as righteous. as jesus.

but he’s not. because jesus would never take joy in killing anyone. jesus would never have fun with it, in the same way bison does. and even if he did, jesus wouldn’t want to stop to date.

but you know who doesn’t take joy in any of it? who detaches himself from it? who seems, in the very least, suspicious of their mother?

you know who’s birthday is on christmas?

fadel. and if fadel is jesus… then bison can’t be. actually, i think that might make bison far closer to judas the betrayer. and that’s just awfully poetic, isn’t it? because didn’t judas think he was doing the right thing, too, when he sold jesus out? when he took money in exchange for telling the soldiers which one jesus was? just like bison thought he was doing the right thing when he told kant to get fadel off his back. just like he exchanged his brother for a lover and took them both down in the process.

[acupofinkedblood]

Banhammer x reader

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

• Ah, the infamous ruthless tyrant of Banland, the raging warden who serves justice violently with a swing of his hammer. Maybe he isn’t the most well-known for his actual name, but if you remind people of how close they are getting to see the warden himself, you will definitely witness a lots of them start to wince in raw distress because oh boy do they know better than to be standing face to face with that guy. Banhammer is a merciless and cocky bastard to the core, whether it is his actual intention to piss people off or not. It’s just his nature to get on people’s nerves at this point. So here’s the one hundred bux question: How the hell did you stand his ass? Or just in case you start listing out your reasons - How the heck did the thing between you two even started and then escalated this far?

• For whatever the reason of a joke, your life has been gifting you a miracle under the disguise of a chaotic fun-sized bomb contains confetti and hot sauce when it has weaved the destined red thread on your pinky to Banhammer’s. Like it or not, that’s your case of a deal now. I won’t ask you why all of every options you have available, you go for a guy with an ego as big as his own muscles with the attitude that has the magic to get on anyone’s nerves unintentionally, because your reason won’t amuse me too much. The question isn’t who falls first, but who has the audacity to admit it first because it feels like an endless game of cat and mouse on the river of playing dumb between you and him

• One thing you have to keep in mind about Banhammer is how the idea of dating a mortal is being associated as a foolish act of sentimental behavior, in which that belief has been engraved deep into his mind with little room for negotiation. Especially when he has seen what happened to his cousin’s family, the downfall and the trauma it has left them make him feel uneasy. Maybe a tad of sympathy for them as well, they were too young to witness that. As if his work’s line doesn’t make him have no time left to breathe — let alone dating stuff — but if he has to date, who would he set his eyes on anyway? There are barely any options for him aside from dating a mortal. Will he be enthusiastic about the idea? Hell no, he has stated his mind and nothing can ever change the way he thinks. Will he regret his own statement because he will literally go against that soon? Absolutely

• Because then he meets you. A mortal, no more and no less. Under normal circumstances, you should have been nothing but another light of life passing through with little significance to his life as any other mortals he used to know before. Nothing but a bystander, as how he usually puts it. And it should just stay like that! Unless you’re a criminal of course. But fate just really loves to laugh into his face — or in this case, his attempt of reminding himself that — in the most unexpected way possible. From a stranger, you start to grow on him, for the worse or the bette. It’s just those simple things, yet it makes him looking over to your direction a bit longer than usual. When Banhammer realizes just how much he is pinning over you, wanting to see you the next time he is out of duty, he knows damn well that he is screwed

• He will be in denial. Yes, you hear me right, there are no ways that he is going to deal with these forsaken feelings that shouldn’t exist in the first place. Don’t get him wrong, he likes you genuinely. You have been a pleasant company in his life, something good to look forward to in the future - in which yes, he adds you to that list of those things he likes in his mind. But the idea of commitment to a mortal is still making him feel uncertain. Like he used to say, that’s just asking for tragedy. Children of the Swords are meant to work, not fool around and see what happens! He isn’t going to be a hypocrite that goes back on his words, that’s just absurd. But on top of that, he will never tell anyone this, but he is scared. Don’t think that with those little emotional intelligence will turn him into a mass of brawny muscle, he still feels things too. And he has a reason to be afraid of that possibility

• You are a mortal, he is a demi-deity. Minus the clear difference in status, he knows you can’t stay with him forever until the sun burns into nothing but a beautiful mass of destruction. He will have to grieve you, as he will outlive you sooner or later. Sure, maybe there exists a chance that he will die first since like it or not, he can still be killed by mortal’s hands. But it isn’t a problem to him. Banhammer can keep his head on his neck as long as he has the situation under control. But you on the other hand, will have to deal with old age. He doesn’t like to think of that view in the future, and the heartbreak that comes with it. Windforce above, he is scared. Banhammer will probably be in denial for who knows how long, as long as it will do him a favor of burying his own feelings. But you know this bastard better than that

• Give him a moment to collect himself, then take out a coin. You think that you will need to flip a coin to see if it’s the head or tails? Wrong, just toss the coin into nowhere because you don’t need to know if fate gives you the green light to engage with this mess the two of you have walked in without even knowing it firsthand. As much as Banhammer tries to resist his own feelings, he just can’t resist you. His mind is currently having a storm because of you after all. Like it’s mentioned earlier, give him some time to relax first. Reassuring him that it doesn’t hurt to listen to what we want in our hearts. Maybe you might jest that after you die, he can keep a little piece of your horn to be a good luck charm. And yeah, he will just rolls his eyes with a clicked tongue. Though it does lighten up the mood somewhat after you two just joke around back and forth about it. He appreciates it, he really does. It gives him the courage to decide on his own

• To say that Banhammer doesn’t have confidence is a wild take because have you seen this man? He knows his worths. He knows that if he steps out to the battlefield, he will knock all of those damn criminals down with little regard to error. To claim that he doesn’t know what is he doing is just pure stupidity — although sometimes you do wonder where the hell is his last brain cell in certain moments — he believes in his strength and loves to take on challenges, even going as far as making things harder for himself just to prove how strong he is. Maybe when you step into his life, he does the most questionable thing ever just to impress you. Though it does look silly most of the time, but hey, at least it’s sort of cute

• He strives to be the best, nothing less than that. Banhammer has that competitive spirit that allows him to achieve even the impossible at the nick of time. Sometimes those banters that occur between you two happen just because he finds it so necessary to boost his own name over the moon, especially when it comes to his work. If it isn’t obvious, he can be petty if you’re better than him in what he is an expert at, golf is included. This bastard will literally sulk if you take away his chance to impress you. It’s mostly lighthearted as he will pin it as a goal to surpass you the next time the two of you get around this topic again. His ego is as big as how he looks after all, don’t be so surprised when you see that shit-eating grin looking at you when he wins again

• Banhammer does things in his own way without further useless elaborations. He just acts on whatever he deems fit. Sometimes it brings him quiet the troubles whether it’s with you or his team. When he makes a flaw, he will bring up a scroll of excuse to get his point across. But don’t think he will just repeat that mistake. Banhammer knows how to look back to learn from his mistakes. He just does that without the need of anyone to notice and call it out. It’s irritating to him. Honestly it’s probably the fact he wants to have that feeling when everything is within his grasp so it won’t stray the other way too far. No one needs to point out his mistakes after he acknowledged it. You don’t need to repeat yourself to him, he knows

• Oh boy may the SFOTHs be at your mercy because this guy will definitely tease you until you can’t see the light anymore, especially before the two of you were officially in a relationship. It feels like most of the bones in his body are all mean ones at this point. Sometimes you might wonder if he’s just pulling your leg or does he actually mean what he says. Usually it’s just something about your personality, appearance, work-related stuff or even just out of nowhere stuff when he is beside you. As if that’s the only way he has in mind to strike up a conversation with you: To begin it with a short joke. Don’t worry too much, he means well to a certain extent, so just keep your head up

• This might surprise you but he is actually a decent leader. He has a police team under his command at Banland. Some people might assume that he would treat his subordinates like how he treated his prisoners, but they have never been more than just wrong in their life when saying that. He only cause harm to those dipshits who disobey the obvious law. He still knows what is right and not, making the assumption that he treats everyone like shit is so unfair. Banhammer looks at his subordinates like family at some point. They can even call him out on being stupid when they see him blindfolded himself then almost walking into lava, and he doesn’t take it to heart. They can jest around with him that way with ease

• Banhammer can be such a flirt sometimes. But do keep in mind that he is also pretty out of pocket here and there. Not much of a shocker, isn’t it? When the two of you don’t know each other, he keeps things professional in the box. When you slowly starts to get to know him more personally as the feeling is somehow mutual, that’s the peak of him becoming such a bastard. It’s that line between keeping things casual and making you feel wanted. He literally says the most ridiculous things ever with a straight face. Definitely the type to make suggestive jokes and then laugh his throat off when seeing how flustered you are. But when you return the favor back to him, his brain just stops functioning for a good few seconds as he is pretty much screaming internally like a teenager

• Once you gets to know him better aside from that warden persona he has almost all of the time on while he is at duty, you will soon realize that he also has a heart. Banhammer has a soft side that he hides under the amount of armor wore on his body. He keeps it to himself because letting others get their hands on his ‘weakness’ isn’t what he looks forward to at all. Being soft is equal to being weak, that’s what he keeps repeating inside his mind. But well, not when you manage to work your way into his heart. Spending times alone with you, letting you know the fullest of him - it suddenly doesn’t feel so bad anymore

• This is a hot take but despite that rough and cocky exterior, he is actually pretty lovely in a relationship. Surely that he won’t just flip out immediately and turns into a completely different person when being with you, but you can notice that obvious change of tone in his voice when speaking to you. It feels much more gentle than when he is speaking to someone else. Banhammer isn’t too much of a romantic guy, but he knows how to appreciate a special someone in his life. Each touch he lovingly ghosts against your skin, to caress your face or to rub your back, he means every single one of them. The way he tries to deny the fact that he is nervous because of this particular relationship — which is completely new to him surprisingly — is just adorable while he glances over at you. But you know he holds no heat between those eyes, because the very next moment he already presses a kiss onto your lips as an attempt to prove you his words

• He is pretty much protective of you. This doesn’t just come from the difference in power scales of you and him, but also from the fact that he is worried about those pesky criminals that will seek you out for revenge against him. Although Banhammer is confident of his own strength to protect the two of you, and if you can also fight, he respects that too. But when he has to be away for investigation at other regions, he can’t help but be a little obnoxious when making sure that you are safe and sound at home. Even when you can kick ass, you can’t kick multiple asses at once! And he is even more of a worrywart if you can’t fight much. The thought of someone coming for you when he isn’t there to keep you unharmed is terrifying. You can’t really blame him when wanting to check up on you regularly like that. He means well, please keeps that in mind. Anyone who touches you the wrong way, even just a little bruise, will see a fate worse than Ghostwalker’s purgatory itself. Banhammer swears it, and you knows he takes that seriously

• He works out a lots, mainly to train himself to avoid getting sloppy the next time he is out chasing a certain cultist’s ass off. Seeing him working out is actually pretty intriguing, especially when you take a look at his schedule. It does rotate depending on how the day is going, but nonetheless, it’s all intense as hell. You’re free to join him if you want, but don’t feel awful when you can’t keep up with him and have to give up halfway. Banhammer will laugh at it, saying that you’re already lucky enough you don’t get a stroke then evaporate into nowhere with your determination. He is a demi-deity after all, it’s natural for people like you to be unable to catch up to him. Before you sulk and leave the place, he might tell you to get on his back as he starts doing pushups. You don’t want to miss that invitation, it’s actually pretty amusing when he pulls that off. That’s his way to keep you around and feel useful, and it works like a charm

• His wings are also quite the fascination. It’s not uncommon to be dumbfounded when you realize he has those wings which he can summon under the form of solidified energy at will, since he doesn’t feel the need to let anyone know about it. Poor those criminals when they have to see him charge with that ungodly speed of his wings directly at them though. But for you, things are pretty different than that comical scenario. Banhammer won’t mind holding you while flying around if that’s what you want. But do expect that this guy will still be an asshole about the entire thing as he will playfully threaten to drop you. He will never do that, just so you know. It only happens the few first time you two flying together

• And how can one even forget his unmistakable four eyes? With how much he blindfolded them by his own hands just so he can challenge himself even more, that wince when he takes it off and sees the light poking directly into his four eyes is always a laughable sight. How does it feel to not only have a pair of eyes looking at your direction, but two coming from the same person? When Banhammer takes off his blindfold, his expression will be easier to keep track on as his emotions really just be given away in his eyes. You know just how he is feeling at the moment just by looking into his eyes: Upset, happy, confused, worried…It feels like he is vulnerable in front of you and only you. On the side note, he can’t look directly into your eyes for too long since he sucks at eye contact without a blindfold. it just feels funny in a questionable way in his mind

• His hugs are suffocating in the best way possible. It’s firm, a bit rough yet still has that soothing effect that is able to calm your nerves down when needed. It’s hard to struggle out of his hug, but it doesn’t feel bad at all. You already knows just how strong he is with all that muscles and stuff going on inside his body, and with how he wields his massive hammer with ease too, so it’s natural to assume that Banhammer has that deadly powerful grip that can easily bruise you if he isn’t being careful. Honestly he is reluctant to give you physical affection at first, mainly because he doesn’t want to underestimate his strength and hurt you intentionally. It takes him quite a while as well as a good load of reassurance that he won’t crush your bones that easily — Mind you, he can but he won’t, just saying — until he eventually gives in

• Whether it’s because of the fact that Banland are surrounded by lava pool scattered almost everywhere on the surface or it’s just the fact that he is a walking personal heater, Banhammer’s body is more than just warm. Hold the hot jokes, I know you were about to say it. Yup, hold your horse buddy. But he does feel like a walking fireplace for most of the time, especially during winter for some reasons that you both can’t fully comprehend. He is the prefect partner to cuddle beneath the blanket with when you have a long day, as it’s highly recommended that you should do so in rainy or snowy weather. Summer can be a bit insufferable though, since his body feels too warm to your taste. You will probably have a heatstroke hugging him without an air conditioner in the room

• Sometimes he says blunt things that will hurt your feelings. He is rather emotionally inept, oblivious to other’s emotions around him. Banhammer tends to be brutally honest with his mind, saying things that can hurt others without realizing the actual effect behind it. Even when people get annoyed or upset with him, he might fail to even notice at first. Sometimes it can lead to a serious verbal fight between the two of you. That is until you have to point directly into his face and makes a statement about how hurt you felt when he said that does he realize he has screwed up. Banhammer is pretty much dumbfounded at the weight of his own words to you. Seeing you upset makes he feel bad. Banhammer will try his best to make things right again so that he can see that smile which he loves soon. Please know that he is trying, he doesn’t mean to hurt you

• Banhammer cares for you. If you’re mad at him, he will do just anything to make it up for you, even at the most absurd request you make him do - which he will begrudgingly accept his fate because he knows damn well just how angry you are. He is, surprisingly, willing to take a step back in an argument when things are too heated. Only you have that privilege though, other time he will just grunt back as if he is about to chew the other speaker’s head off. He mainly figures out how to apologize to you on his own without the help of anyone, it’s just embarrassing if one day he comes up to his subordinates and ask what should he do when his beloved is mad at him. They will laugh the living hell out of themselves. But then again, he does keep in mind what do you like so he can get it or do it in addition to his apology. Sometimes he does it pretty stiff since it feels off to actually apologize to someone. But hey, it’s the genuine thought that counts

• Windforce might have heard of you, mainly because of how Banhammer has quite the deep connection with his momma. This guy is a certified mama’s boy after all. He will tell her everything about you once he gets the chance to see his momma again. Windforce is pretty taken back by the news of her son’s selection in partner, a mortal, to be specific. She does doubt you at first due to her worries towards her son. But them she has came into terms with it as she knows there are no point interfering Banhammer’s business. She doesn’t have time to meet you, as she is pretty much occupied with her own business. Yet she will still send her blessings to you, a favor from her for making her son that happy. As long as Banhammer is contented with you, she doesn’t see the point in being against the whole thing

• His strong sense of justice is inherited from Windforce. Although it doesn’t sound that fitting, ‘justice’ and ‘Windforce’ together, since most demons know her because of her ruthlessness. But little did you know about the connection between using force and serving righteousness. Her justice doesn’t involve the gray between black and white, and it can blind her to the extreme point. Banhammer looks up at his mother, so he has taken her justice with him. The reason he resolves to use violence is because it teaches a better lesson than normal words - a good point, because even Banhammer knows that he sucks at using words to find a peaceful solution with those pesky criminals. He cringes at the lowly idea

• There will be a day that you will be but a memory in his mind. Banhammer used to be scared of the thought of you dying due to your mortality before him — and for your information, he still feels that uneasy feeling whenever he is reminded of it — but seeing those happy moments between the two of you, he knows that the film of you running in his mind will be a pleasant one. He will grieve you, of course he will. But then those good memories will help him back onto his feet once again. Banhammer will convince himself he that you are watching over him and his future. The thought of your spirit just cheering on his accomplishments is kinda funny, but endearing. Sometimes he might look at you with this silly question in his mind: If he can go back in time, will he still make the decision of this lifelong commitment with you

• And he answers it on his own with no hesitation: Always. No matter how many choices he is allowed to make, he will still come to you. Like it or not, aside from his mother and his works of serving justice, you will also one if his most important responsibilities who he adores and cherish until everything returns to ashes. You are his lover after all, why wouldn’t he choose you? He makes a vow to stay with you no matter what happens. Despite that cocky attitude that makes you want to punch him into the oblivion, you can’t deny that his soft side does melt your heart. Please remember just how much you mean to him, because you are the best thing he has ever happened in his life, he has the right to be proud of that

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Note: I’m so sorry for the delay! Hopefully these are long enough to make up for my disappearance (*´-`)

[petras-drizzt-corner]

Idk how far into The Halfling’s Gem you are, but I need to know your opinions on Artemis!! Personally he and Jarlaxle are my favorite silly little guys

HOOOO BOY I love both of them!!

I've seen little of Jarlaxle outside of the Dark Elf Trilogy, but I know he pairs up with our fave Edgy Rogue™ and I'm utterly PUMPED for it! He's such a fun, flamboyant character, and he has me fanning myself like the female lead in a soap opera. But also, Artemis!! I love how he's the perfect character foil to Drizzt, and ok he too is VERY VERY HOT. And bonus, it must be said!!! I know Drizzt gets with Catti, but there aint NO WAY he and Artemis are just going to be PAINFULLY GAY for the entire saga and we don't get one kiss :'(

Thanks for this, I had fun! Be seeing ya! -Petra !

[musical-chick-13]

This is the only thing I'm going to say about the election until it's over:

Anyone who did not vote for Harris or who attempted to dissuade people from voting for Harris, you are indirectly responsible for whatever shit Donald Trump does if he gets elected. That blood is primarily on his hands, yes. But it is also on yours. I hope you can live with that because I sure as hell wouldn't be able to.

[jerryseinfeldisafurry]

I have to speak my peace about Captain Curly

Warning: mouthwashing spoilers

So, I’ve noticed a lot of people saying the same points that are essentially: “Oh Curly is a piece of shit because he just let his buddy get away with assaulting Anya”

And I am here to argue against this point. So at no point does Curly deny, or tell Anya that what she went through never happened, or anything like that. Usually, when somebody ���supports their friend” after said friend commits assault, they will react with disbelief, or just general distrust for the person accusing their friend. I feel like the fact that Anya continuously makes small references to the assault situation around Curly, and the fact she talks and is alone with Captain Curly so often, are indicators that she has not been met with disbelief or distrust on his end.

When a victim receives a bad reaction to telling somebody about their assault, they usually do not bring it up or talk about it with that person after that. They also would not have the same dynamic, the same relaxed mannerisms that Anya has with Curly.

Now, onto the point where people accuse Curly of enabling Jimmy, I also don’t think that’s true. They are stuck on a relatively small ship, with no way out for over a year. They can’t risk hurting or punishing Jimmy, because Curly of all people will know how reactionary and violent Jimmy can be. They can’t kill him, because that’s illegal, and Curly is unfortunately responsible for Jimmy considering he is the Captain of the ship. Aside from the fact that, with the way Pony Express is shown to treat the crew, if they harmed or killed one of their own crew members it’s entirely possible that they would not get paid at all, and all the work and time and energy (and suffering, on Anya’s part) would literally be for nothing. Then they also get tried for murder, and they would have to prove that Jimmy did something wrong, they would have to prove that Jimmy assaulted Anya. After half a year of him being dead, with no physical evidence to prove what he did except a pregnancy that they can’t prove was forced upon her.

Curly is not enabling his friend, and trying to sweep the situation under the rug, he is literally constantly trying to deescalate the situation. Curly doesn’t act like he’s just trying to make the situation disappear. When Anya expresses that she’s uncomfortable, she doesn’t even say out right that she doesn’t want to do his evaluation. Yet Curly decides to volunteer despite not really having the experience, and it also not being in his job description. After Anya tells Jimmy she’s pregnant, and she’s scared for her life, Curly goes to try and talk to Jimmy. He tries to get Jimmy to calm down, and to think rationally, he tries to keep Jimmy from acting out. and then Jimmy goes and crashes the entire fucking ship into an asteroid. Even if they wanted to imprison him, there was nowhere to put him. The only places that had locks were the cockpit and medical. We saw what happened when he was in the cock pit alone, and the last place he needs to be is the one place that Anya can really call her own.

When Curly says he’ll talk to Jimmy, that’s not him belittling the situation. He needs to stay calm and reassure Anya that he’s trying to help her. If Curly was immediately like “I’m gonna go kick his ass” or if he insisted on some sort of retaliation against Jimmy, then that would just stress Anya out more. There is no way to keep eyes on Jimmy at all times, and if he faces any punishment over Anya then she knows he will find a way to punish her for it. Aside from the fact that, I think Curly may have done whatever she asked, especially with the way he emphasized he’d do “anything” to help her when she first tells him that she’s pregnant. He informs her that he truly cares about her, her wellbeing is his responsibility.

Anya also seems to be way too forgiving for her own good. Even when she thought Curly tried to kill all of them, all she had to say was that she couldn’t believe that a person’s worst moments make them a monster. If she was willing to forgive what she thought was attempted murder, I’m sure she came up with every excuse in the book for Jimmy. I’m not saying it’s right, I’m not saying she deserved it. She didn’t. What she went through was fucking awful and horrific. But it’s in her nature to forgive people, even when they really don’t fucking deserve it. We don’t even know if she knew she was assaulted the whole time, since there’s a good chance that Jimmy manipulated her into thinking she deserved it/wanted it. It may be possible that she thought she deserved it, and was too ashamed to speak about it openly for a while, with only the feelings of disgust and shame to accompany her.

Let’s also take into consideration that Anya was not the only person Jimmy was abusive to. We saw the way he talked to Curly, especially at the birthday celebration. Jimmy was an abusive dickhead to everyone. The last time Curly tried deescalating the situation before the crash, Jimmy immediately started taking the stuff Curly told him in confidence and using it against him, to make Curly just as miserable as he was. Jimmy turned his own suffering into shared suffering because then he could tell himself that he wasn’t just trying to get away from his own actions, he was trying to HELP his friend, who was also suffering.

My point is, I think too many people are not thinking deeply enough about Curly, as well as the context on the entire situation. They are putting blame on him when he is also a victim of Jimmy. It was literally just an overall shitty situation

[you-know-honey]

omggg i see you are taking viktor x reader requests and i am in desperate need of something relatively cute and fluffy after act 3 🥲

i’ve had this idea for ages where once viktor and the reader starts dating, viktor just generally starts being healthier and a little better? even though his leg is still the same he is stronger and in less pain (he really deserves this come onnn).because he is totally smitten by the reader he is spending loads of time with them which ends up to him getting more rest, eating better, etc. the reader maybe does subtle things to encourage that but in some ways it happens naturally. (although i’ve seen some scenarios where the reader helps viktor with massages/physio and that is so wholesome too)

maybe he is talking to the reader after some months of dating, sharing how he feels better in his body and how he wants to actively try to be better? like, before his work was his whole life and he had kinda given up on his health - he just wanted to make the most progress in whatever time he had. but now he wants to spend the rest of his life with the reader and is willing to fight for it (and come on that will also help him work more anyway)

thought it was a cute idea and i love your work so i’d love to see your take on this!!! ❤️

Hanging in Your Hands

Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5K

2/2→→→

Viktor finds in you a love that subtly transforms him: without realizing it, he begins to take better care of himself, rest better and relieve his pain, all thanks to the peace you bring him. Finding a way to show you what he could never do with words.

N/A: English is not my native language, feel free to correct me in the comments and I will update it. Remember to share and comment if you liked it. Endnotes.

The cold of the early morning began to creep in through the window, giving your body chills from head to toe. You didn't want to wake up, you felt like you had barely slept a second after so much work.

You couldn't get anything more than a superficial sleep that ended even with the walking of an ant on your neighbor's floor. The bed felt too big for some reason and there was no pillow to hug that didn't make you feel terribly alone. You sighed, knowing it would be another long night, you went down to the kitchen to get some tea to sleep, if getting high was the only way to fall asleep so be it. While you watched the steam come out of your cup you leaned against the wall of the hallway, looking at your empty room. You couldn't help but let your imagination fly to a corner where you didn't want it to be, the darkness emulated with the shadows a sleeping figure on one side of the bed and your mind quickly gave it shape and name...Viktor.

NO.

You shook your head to get that image out of your mind, being in love with your boss was already a silly thing, you shouldn't even think about something like that. But... you couldn't help it, you liked to imagine him around the apartment, like your own homely fantasy.

The violent knocking from the other side of the front door brought you out of your little daydream. You pulled the blankets tighter around you, it wasn't time for visitors.

“Y/N!” Sky’s voice called from the other side of the door, she seemed agitated and in total panic.

You quickly rushed to open the door, finding your friend and coworker in tears and as pale as a sheet of paper.

“Sky? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You rushed to take her inside and sit her on the couch as she tried to catch her breath.

“It’s Viktor, he’s in the hospital, he fainted and… and he started bleeding! He won’t wake up!”

Sky said something else, but your mind refused to continue listening. You could feel your entire body turning into glass and shattering, your heart had stopped suddenly before beating desperately again.

That night was the worst night of your life. You don’t remember what happened exactly, you just remember dressing up in one of your long work jackets to hide your pajamas, not even bothering to put on shoes, arriving at the hospital and searching every room in desperation only to find him intubated and still unconscious on a stretcher, he looked so pale, so feverish, his hands were cold and stiff as a stone, his hair was wet with sweat and the nurses hadn’t cleaned the stain of dried blood that spread across his cheek and lips like a crimson river. You don’t know how long you cried that night. You only remember clinging to his body until the nurses basically ripped you from his side. It was the first time you truly thought you would lose him, the first time you saw what his illness could do to him.

Time passed, a lot of time indeed. Viktor had a long recovery process after such a hard relapse and was prescribed, in his opinion, the worst of medications. Rest. Instructions that he clearly hadn't intended to follow, but you didn't think the same. He didn't know when or how but you simply kicked the chained door of his heart and like a spoiled child you refused to leave. But he liked it that way. During his long stay in the hospital he hadn't stopped working and the doctors were really considering tying him to the bed, like a guardian angel there you were, reading his books for him and writing in his notebook by the side of his stretcher, making sure he took his medications and vitamins until he was ready to get back in the ring. So, gods! It would have been impossible not to fall in love with you.

You made him feel alive, seeing you filled his face with color, he couldn't help but smile and ignore everything that wasn't you, he loved being able to hold your hand, he delighted in the dropped jaws that left when they walked together through the academy. His mind was an unstoppable machine of chaos that only found peace when you were near.

How did he get to that point? He never imagined that someone like him, with his proud attitude and busy mind could attract the attention of someone like you. You... you simply shined. Everything about you seems so simple, so natural. Your laugh, your words, even the way you look at him as he always wanted to be seen, as something more than a man with a cane and too many ideas in his head.

He couldn't help but wonder what you saw in him. Is it his mind that interests you? Or did you just see something he couldn't see in the mirror? Maybe, just maybe, you've seen beyond the walls he built around himself. Beyond the weight of his ambitions.

And yet, for the first time, he feared something more than failure. He doesn't want to lose you.

When he's with you, when his hands touch yours, when you smile after one of his sarcastic comments, everything seems to fit together. For the first time in a long time, he feels like he's not a stranger in his own skin. He feels like, maybe, there's something more to him than just work.

You give him something he can't explain, something that isn't in any formula or prototype. Maybe, for once in his life, it's enough to just feel.

…Wow, he was a genius in love.

Months Later...

The sound of the lab door slamming open loudly caught Jayce's attention as he stretched out in his chair. They had been working all morning.

You walked in with a tray of breakfast and books under your arm.

“You need to grease that door,” you said, as you walked over to his desk. Jayce held the books you asked for and took one of the steaming cups on the tray.

“I'll write it down,” Jayce said, burying his face in the cup, inhaling the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. He looked really exhausted. They would have a conference soon and they had to be prepared, even you and Sky had a lot of work to do.

“Have he eaten anything today?” you asked, nodding at the one you can now proudly call your partner, sitting across the lab without even noticing your presence.

“What do you think?” You sighed, it's common for your boyfriend to forget to eat, if breathing wasn't essential you're sure he would forget too.

“Viktor…” you exclaim as you walk up to his desk, his posture in front of it is terrible, a shrimp would be proud of his posture.

He doesn’t seem to hear you, he mutters things as usual while he quickly writes down in his notebook and fiddles around a bit with a design that releases sparks and steam. You can see the inner mechanism, it’s so complex that it makes your head hurt just thinking about having to fix it like he does. There’s something about that stoic concentration he has that really attracts you, you could watch him work all day. You place the tray in one of your hands, balancing it so as not to spill anything and you use the fingers of your free hand to lightly tickle Viktor’s neck, he quickly adjusts his posture, you’re sure you could hear a joint or two creak, letting out a half-gasp. Which you take advantage of by uncovering the delicious breakfast on the tray.

You know he smiles and his gaze softens when the smell of food reaches him, he stops his work and looks at you.

“Good morning” you murmur only for his ears.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said, turning his chair to face you, letting go of his design so easily that even Jayce couldn’t believe it.

“Can’t I take care of my favorite genius?” You shrug, leaving the tray with breakfast on the small mound of leaves on his desk. Changing his empty cup of coffee for a cup of hot tea.

Viktor smiles barely, but there’s something warm in his gaze as he takes the first sip of tea. You’re surprised when he stands up without even making a move to look for his cane, only using his good leg for help. He rests his forehead on your shoulder, you can feel his breath so close that it makes the hairs on your neck stand up. He’s been working since before the sun came up, it’s something you can’t change about him, but seeing you is a huge relief that he doesn’t know he needs until he has you in front of him and can’t help but put everything aside for you. His hands slide under your arms until they grip your back, wrinkling your perfectly ironed shirt and you can feel him finally sigh and let his shoulders slump as if he were carrying lead on them.

That gesture is all he needs to tell you, he is not a man of words and even less so when Jayce is present because he knows that Jayce will use everything he says against him as soon as you walk out the door. He can feel you, the heat emanating from your body makes him feel warm, breathing your perfume is the breeze of fresh air he needs to keep going. If they were alone he would probably kiss you, it is the only motivation he has to make it to the end of the day.

“What? He is your favorite genius? Y/N how do you break my heart like that” Jayce dramatizes from the other side of the room with a huge smile on his face. He loves watching how Viktor basically melts for you but he can’t help but feel like a bad third between the two of you.

You can't help but giggle at the comment. “There's enough room in my heart for both of us.”

Viktor gives a small shake of his head and snorts at your shoulder, it's obvious that he doesn't like the idea.

“Will you have breakfast with me?” he asks as he pulls away from you and drops his weight back into the chair.

You've both had this habit since the hospital, when he barely had the strength to blink and refused to be fed with a g-tube. It was a hard blow to his pride that you had to feed him, but you handled the situation with a lot of respect, and at the end of the day you both always ended up eating all your meals together, it was a moment that you both could enjoy and secretly for you it was a way to make sure he gets something more than caffeine.

You sighed and shook your head. “Not this time.” The look he gave you was as painful as that of a newly abandoned puppy.

“Why not?” he asked, making a colorful gesture with his hands, quite offended.

“Sky and I are still clearing their schedules and getting everything ready for this afternoon’s conference.” You felt guilty and even more so when he gave you that look but if you lied to him it would only make his mind wander to very dark places. “I promise we’ll have dinner together. Will you forgive me this time?” you said, caressing his cheek subtly.

Schedules were something Viktor had very established, something out of that routine irritated him in ways he didn’t understand. Normally and if you were anyone else he would have pushed your hand away and ignored you for the rest of the day but… you weren’t just anyone, he couldn’t get mad at you, he couldn’t even think of a reason that was strong enough to not even look at you with annoyance.

“Just don’t miss it” He replied, enjoying your touch. Forcing you to stay on his cheek a little more for taking your wrist, when it was time for you to leave it was very difficult to let you go.

“Don't forget to take a break, Sabre, if you didn't have lunch.” You walked through the door, giving him one last look before leaving him back in the lab.

“Love is so beautiful,” Jayce mentioned, sighing like a teenager while humming the sound of the newlywed bells.

Viktor rolled his eyes and went back to his table to find his breakfast. The idea of putting it aside and continuing to work crossed his mind, it was what he used to do in the past. Before letting that idea take hold, he stuck his fork in the bacon next to the small bowl of fruit and quickly brought it to his mouth. His taste buds wept with excitement at finally receiving some food after so many hours drowned in coffee, even the breath itself with a certain guilty pleasure. “Shut up, Jayce,” was the only thing he could say before devouring the plate.

“Are you ready? We’re going to be late,” Viktor mentioned, leaning against the outside wall of the lab’s bathroom, with a hanger holding his suit in his hand.

He had been waiting for more than 45 minutes for his lab partner to finish showering and getting dressed. He used to skip all the conferences, especially if they were with the council. It irritated him how certain people with more than limited intellect could have power over his work and what he could and couldn’t do with it. The only reason he started attending was because you were there, both of them could whisper to each other continuously and have a good time being gossips about the other councilors, although of course, there were also times when Jayce called him to the front, when a more raw opinion was needed, without all the flourishes that surrounded Jayce’s speeches.

“Just a second,” Jayce said as he opened the door, in his white and gold suit he finished fixing his hair in the middle of a cloud of masculine perfume.

Viktor just rolled his eyes and made his way into the bathroom, leaving his suit on the rack behind the door, sitting on the closed toilet to wait for Jayce to leave.

“Hurry up,” he said when he saw Jayce smiling at himself in the mirror.

“Someone looks pretty excited to go…” He hummed, “I thought you said conferences were a waste of your precious time…”

“Jayce…” Viktor said in a tone that Jayce understood as a warning accompanied by a stern frown, but the shy blush that crossed his cheeks and the bridge of his nose told him he was right.

“Come on, there’s nothing wrong with saying you like going because your girlfriend is there. If Councilwoman Medarda wasn’t there I wouldn’t want to go either.” Jayce leaned back against the sink. Although it wasn’t exactly the most opportune moment to have a talk.

Girlfriend… Viktor still felt chills when that word was mentioned, he himself wasn’t able to say it yet, it always got stuck in his throat and he blushed like never before, he felt shy just knowing that the one who carried that title was you. When they started dating he was nothing more than a rigid bundle of nerves, holding your hand, hugging you, kissing you or just walking by your side were things he got used to with difficulty, as if he were walking on thin ice, looking for a single rejection reaction from you that would confirm to his anxiety that he had made a false step and should return within his fortified comfort zone. It doesn’t mean that he didn’t enjoy doing those things with you, he did, he loved them, but a part of himself always whispered to him that he didn’t deserve it, that he hadn’t been born for love and that he looked ridiculous pretending he wasn’t like that. It was hard to fight against it, but you never gave up, you knew how to read him like the back of your hand and you knew when he needed time alone and when he needed to melt into you in affection. Now it was clearer than ever that if there was someone who could love him and who he could love back, it was you. Only you.

“Y/N and I know how to separate work from our relationship, our… dating” he savored the words with pride “it doesn’t influence my work.” He couldn’t help but smile silly “Although I admit that her company is always welcome”

Jayce excitedly crossed his arms at his friend and colleague's terrible way of hiding how totally in love he was with you. "Really?" he said raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "So I guess what you've been building for her is part of the 'job'..."

Although Jayce was a little naive he wasn't stupid, of course he had noticed how revitalized Viktor was since he started dating you, he could hardly remember the irritated Viktor who lived all the time in the lab. The night of his relapse he had gone to his mother's house for his birthday, if it weren't for Sky and you he would never have found out what happened and he would never be able to finish thanking you for taking care of him with such love. Jayce knew with total certainty that Viktor was more in love with you than he could ever admit to others or to himself.

“…It’s a gift for her.” There was something of amazement in his words, as if he had never imagined himself saying it. “I read that couples usually give each other gifts sporadically, without reason… I want to do something that does justice to everything she does for me.” He answered as if it were the most logical thing in the world, trying to regain his composure.

“Tell me what it is?” Jayce asked interested, his eyes big like a little boy’s excited to receive a lollipop after the dentist.

“No.” Viktor refused flatly. “I know you, it will come out of your mouth in a some moment.” Jayce felt offended, even more so because it was not a lie.

“But! Come on Victor!” He tried to convince him but the answer was still a constant negative. “Boring.” He sighed giving up. “I’ll wait for you outside, Mr. Romantic.” Jayce managed to escape from the bathroom before Viktor’s sharpness reached him and he walked away laughing.

Viktor sighed when he finally managed to be alone in the bathroom, he put his cane aside, using the sink to support himself and stand up, his leg gave him a small cramp that was reflected on his face and it took him a second to recover and start preparing.

The conference was nothing out of the ordinary, brutally exhausting as always, you felt your feet unbearably tired, avoiding Salo's venomous comments were not for everyone. You should be given a prize for enduring such a thing, you knew that it didn't really matter much to present each project in a thorough manner before the council but according to Councilwoman Medarda, that would make Hextech more trustworthy, being transparent with the creations left no room for doubts or misunderstandings. But that only meant more work for you and Sky, emptying Jayce and Viktor's agendas, planning their speeches and even elaborating the thread of the entire conference, it was definitely the only part you hated about being an attendee.

Jayce had stayed to 'discuss' some matters with Councilwoman Medarda and Sky had taken the first opportunity that presented itself to leave as quickly as he could. That left you and Viktor alone in the hallway heading to the lab for your coats, autumn was already upon the city and the cold was more usual and stronger.

“Is something wrong?” you asked as you saw Viktor’s jaw muttering things to himself, his gaze looking a little lost as you approached the lab.

“Oh, no… I have some things to tidy up in the lab that’s all” He answered trying to lighten the mood. Clearly forgetting that you knew there was nothing to tidy up because… come on… that was your job.

“Can I help you with that?” You said with some disbelief as you reached the door, it was clear from your tone that you didn’t quite believe him.

“No, it’s not necessary. Could you wait for me outside?” Viktor asked, looking a bit nervous, even serious.

“From the door?” you asked, crossing your arms as Viktor left his hand on the door handle. You had never seen him so nervous trying to hide something, especially from you.

“From the academy…” I knew the answer, obviously you would say no.

You sighed heavily, it was late at night and your brain was tired “Viktor if this is a ruse to keep working...”

“No, it’s not that” he interrupted you quickly, his hand moved away from the door handle as if it were a hot iron just to take yours “It will be quick I promise” and there it was, that lazy smile and that sweet look that could convince you to do anything without hesitation, he using his thumb to draw soft circles on the back of your hand. He slowly leaned down to your ear to whisper “I can’t wait to go home with you, this will just be a… slight setback. I won’t take long, I promise.”

The words got stuck in your throat and in your belly millions of butterflies were released and fluttered everywhere, the blush was quick to rise to your cheeks “Fine… But... Don’t take long, okay?”

That act had taken you by complete surprise, but he seemed quite pleased with the way he had completely altered the chemistry inside your brain and he knew it, of course he knew it, behind that look you were sure he was proud of his little misdeed.

Viktor left a small kiss on your forehead before disappearing into the lab. A shiver ran down your spine to help you come back to yourself. The last thing Viktor heard from you was the clicking of your heels at the end of the hallway.

“She didn’t believe it at all,” he said to himself as he leaned back against the door, taking a minute to compose himself, running one of his hands through his hair as if that would work. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face and his brain was still fluttering with your blushing image. What he had done had been a risky act but it felt so good to do it… Viktor shook his head, getting those thoughts out of his mind.

The lab was empty, it felt cold and that didn’t help his leg at all. Holding on to his cane he walked towards his desk, in one of the drawers, the one most full of failed prototypes, the only one you never dared to clean, in the back, wrapped in a somewhat singed piece of curtain, he found what he was looking for. A velvety box, upon opening it he was greeted by the intense glow of a Hextech gem much smaller than the rest, he had worked on it for quite some time, it wasn't the gift itself, but it was the eternal battery that would keep it running, it had already been quite a challenge to get the crystals to stabilize at their original size, he had lost count of how many times he could have died while making it. He quickly closed the box and carefully put it away in his bag, losing it would be a huge disaster. He had kept the rest of your gift in a safe place at home.

Viktor took a moment to look at his desk, years ago doing what he was doing now would have seemed ridiculous and a waste of time. Now there was nothing else he wanted to spend his time on. His hand slid across his desk, feeling papers and the leather of his notebooks under his fingers. His hands wandered until they entered between the swollen pages of one of his old notebooks, opening it he felt a little embarrassed by the content.

The pages were filled with notes and sketches of designs, as the pages turned one had established itself among the others. All around it was filled with details about you, your favorite color, your favorite scent, your favorite sound. Such sweet descriptions of your laugh, your hair… of your essence, there were even small drawings of your face and your unmistakable look, motivating him to continue. There were dates and small appointments that his mind read with your voice while he smiled.

“I really hope you like it…” He sigh longingly.

You hugged your bare arms as you hopped from foot to foot to keep warm, the dress you were wearing worked inside the heated academy but now that you were outside you were freezing, every hair on your body standing on end.

“What are you doing Viktor?” You said into the air.

Since the conference had been a huge success you both had planned to go to his house to hang out. Although well, it wasn’t long before it was your house too, after all half of your closet was in his and you even had matching coffee mugs in his kitchen. Still you didn’t want to push Viktor at all. It had already been a bit difficult for you to get him to dare kiss your cheek in public without making it look like you had a gun on his back.

You panted into your hands, your breath bringing some heat to your fingers that were starting to get cold as an iceberg.

Something brushed against your back, a sudden touch that made you turn around instinctively, almost unnaturally, only to find yourself facing Viktor, who was blinking in surprise at your reaction. His hands were outstretched, holding your coat.

“What were you trying to do?” you ask, your tone more accusatory than you’d like, as you try to calm your racing heart.

“Put your coat on, maybe?” he replies, his tone matching yours, but a sly smile playing on his lips. It’s obvious that your startlement amuses him. “Here, let me put it on you. You’re going to freeze.”

You sigh to release the tension in your body and turn your back to him. You feel his cold hands touch your neck, drawing a gasp from you that you instantly suppress, determined not to give him any more reasons to mock you. There's something about his gesture, the way he gently places the coat over your shoulders and guides your wrists into the sleeves, that disarms you.

When he's done, he gently turns you around to close the buttons, fastening them one by one, while his fingers brush your hair away from the coat. It's a simple gesture, but he does it with such care that you melt a little. Crowning the moment, he puts your bag over your head and lets it rest on your shoulder with elegance.

Your eyes watch him with a tenderness that seems to stop time. Viktor notices it; his hand slides from the strap of your bag to your cheek, caressing it with cautious delicacy before removing it, leaving a cold sensation behind.

A laugh escapes your lips, soft and sweet, filling the frozen air with a warmth that seeps into his bones. He smiles with you.

You take a step closer to him, not expecting it, you see him seek support from his cane, the only thing that stands between him and you really.

His scent envelops you instantly: coffee and honey. It’s such a unique combination that you could identify it among millions.

“Your nose is red,” you comment, adjusting the scarf around his neck. “I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

You can see how his eyes widen at the proximity and your close touch to his face makes the tip of his ears red, his gaze avoids yours nervously.

You barely finish and without waiting for an answer, he began to walk down the stairs of the academy. Leaving you upstairs with a satisfied smile, he seems quite in a hurry to get home.

The icy wind of Piltover forces you to get a little closer to Viktor when you manage to catch up with him while crossing the street. His steps are long and determined, he has barely taken a break since you started walking.

“Why are you so nervous?” you ask, breaking the silence. Normally he takes one or two breaks along the way, excusing himself by looking at the shop windows that you know he has little interest in.

“Nervous? Me?” Viktor arches an eyebrow and looks at you out of the corner of his eye, his tone has a doubtful tone.

“Yeah, even when you’re making fun of me,” you retort, remembering the coat incident earlier. “You seem to have your mind somewhere else.”

He lets out a short, almost dry laugh. “It’s not like that, just, you know… Someone has to keep the calm.”

“Someone? You mean you?”

“Of course. If you’re too busy freaking out over coats.” Viktor looks at you with a glint of amusement in his eyes, “someone has to take charge of looking professional.”

You frown, though you can’t hide the smile that threatens to appear. “If you put it that way it’s okay, I like you like that.” Is it dirty play? Yes, but it’s worth it when you see Viktor’s face.

Heat rises to his cheeks before he can stop it, but he hides it by burying his face deeper into his scarf. You’ve beaten him this time, but like any sore loser, he won’t let things go.

He stops walking abruptly, his body hunched over his knee.

Your triumphant expression leaves your face completely and you don't hesitate to approach him, worried. The weather was cold and that used to increase the pain in his leg, but you didn't expect it to be so strong as to double him over in pain.

“Does it hurt?” you asked somewhat worried, your hand on his back ready to help him stand up if necessary. “Not at all.” He turned his face only to be met with a proud and victorious smile.

The streets are empty, and the shops are beginning to close, Viktor resumes his straight posture while looking from side to side as if he wanted no one to see his next move, you follow his gaze, not quite knowing what to look at or what to look for. You feel the cold handle of his cane touch your chin gently and guide it to make you look up, towards him. He approaches cautiously and you know his pulse is shaking a little from the way the handle of his cane shakes, finally he presses his lips against yours, with an overwhelming softness that at another time would have made you draw him closer, but like all good things, it didn’t last long. The sound of a metal shutter being loudly lowered pushes him away from you like a scared cat before you can properly reciprocate. He tries to compose himself but the blush on his cheeks and the nervous movement of his eyes give him away; even someone as controlled as Viktor isn’t immune to nervousness.

You laugh, like a little child, savoring his kiss at the same time. Giving affection in public is a huge leap of faith for him and you know it, you melt every time he does it.

“Don’t look at me with that eyes.” he says avoiding your gaze, a shy smile forming on his mouth and refusing to disappear no matter how hard he tries.

“What eyes?” You ask, feigning innocence at the subject, searching for his free hand with yours to take it and not let it go.

His eyes meet yours, his pupils dilate quickly like drops of paint in water. That's one of the things you like about him, no matter when he tries to hide his feelings, you know exactly that his gaze will always give you the answer.

“Forgotten” he snorts trying to lighten the subject. This time offering you his arm to walk together.

Both of you walk in silence, just enjoying each other's company for the rest of the way, you look at the shops, some are closing, others still have warm lights on inside and a few people looking through the windows. People from Piltover don't usually go out at night, maybe because for them there isn't much interesting to see when the sun goes down. But you and Viktor are from Zaun, you reject the sun like hermit vampires and the night is the perfect time to go out and to let out certain romantic gestures as you already taste before.

Continue...

[anantaru]

neuvillette eats pussy to distress

cw. oral (fem! receiving), you're a lil bratty, fem! reader

what comes out of your mouth are nothing more than short-planted whimpers, little, hesitant cries, and then a filthy moan of neuvillette's name, but you tell yourself that you do not want to give him that certain satisfaction he had longed for all night— and you sneakily trace along his scalp with your trembling fingers, he hisses when you tug on his roots, then whines into your pussy when you do it again, eyes growing wide at your fine-drawn pursue.

"there certainly is no need to hold yourself back for me." he suddenly claims and it has you avert your eyes, the way he had phrased it was almost a little too detached and apathetic to your own liking— almost as if he didn't take this whole thing serious and believed that he gave in, just for a second, in one of the lewd, obscene pleasures of human kind, before adding, "because you do, in fact, hide your voice."

"am i correct?"

"i don't!" sweet sweet liar, because you do, you've been blocking them out this entire time, "maybe you're not as good— fuck, as you think you are!"

the man laughs, a little aloof, and evidently, neuvillette was aware on what he was capable of doing to you and his fingers are cool and persistent in fucking in and out of your little hole, and despite it being only a digit, not even fully in, your toes curl and your legs clasp around his head when he adds his tongue, it has your sticky slick pooling between the folds of your cunt and merging with his spit, fuck, acting as if he didn't bring you unrecognizable pleasure was harder than you originally thought.

especially since he appeared to be exceptionally fatigued and certainly used your body as a way to distress from day to day work— for him, this type of work life balance was the most sufficient one.

neuvillette slides his warm tongue up and down your pussy in long swipes when you shiver at the mere sight of him doing so, feeling like everyone in the giant building can hear what's happening to you right this second, more so know who is pulling those lewd noises out of your sore throat.

your glowing eyes, in a sudden haste, spring open when you feel how he languidly spits on your cunt, once, twice— so you're wetter for him, he claims you taste better that way, lubricating you so he can drag his tongue into you faster, just like you so desperately wanted him to, yet in secret, you'd never tell him that— while, the chief justice most definitely preferred it if you're adequately messed up whenever he comes to see you, your exposed core luminous, hole clenching around his digits and you swear you can feel him smirk faintly, although he wasn't a man of great emotions, while proceeding in this particular task, he couldn't possibly suppress this feral, animalistic desire housing deep inside his chest, rumbling and aching for a possibility to escape.

the twist in your stomach builds up quickly, quicker than you initially had anticipated, "how— how, fuck!" you manage to say, "how are you so fucking good at this?" and your fingers find themselves wounding in his hair, holding onto him for your dear life when a tremor of cold shivers crossed over your figure when he groans into your pussy by the nature of your rough tugs on his scalp, his breath hot and wet when it ghosts over your soaked folds. 

"there they are." he moans into your cunt, not giving a single flying fuck if his face was slicked up in your juices, as said, he adored making a mess, "those noises i've been looking forward to."

at last, when he adds another finger into your hole and curls them up, the tightened thread in your stomach snaps in half and you shake violently while pinned down with one of his arms strongly locked over your stomach, with a cry of his name, that you originally preferred to stay hidden in your throat, your loud moans tumble and bounce from your lips to his ears as you cum all against his mouth so he could finally taste you.

but the long-rooted waves of your pleasure have not dissipated as he continues to flick his tongue over your clit, your slick by now basically coating the entire lower half of his face, his eyes fixated on nothing but your addictive, more so intoxicating expressions— you knew neuvillette wouldn't stop, there's no such thing as leaving a case half finished, he had a habit of prolonging your orgasm until you're overstimulated to the hilt, always, whenever he had you under him, it's his way of fucking you, until you're nothing but satisfied, such as he was whenever a trial ends with no complications.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[charliedawn]

Nurse brings their baby to work because they couldn't find the baby sitter. And the baby first word is dad. how would the slasher react to suddenly being called dad???

Michael Myers

Michael stares at the baby in your arms, his expression hidden behind his mask, but you can sense his surprise. He wasn’t expecting to be called dad, and the word feels foreign to him. For a moment, he freezes, his usual menacing air disappearing as he just stares. Slowly, he reaches out, his hand gently touching the baby's tiny fist. Though he doesn't say anything, there's a subtle shift in his body language, a quiet acceptance of the title.

Yeah. That baby is gonna have a great dad.

Jason Voorhees

Jason, who is often seen as a protector in his own way, might feel a wave of unexpected emotion. He has affection for them and the appellation dad did make him still for a second, reminding him of what he once longed for—a family and love. He crouches down slowly, tilting his head in that childlike way he sometimes does, unsure of how to react but clearly moved. Gently, he pats the baby’s head, trying to be as soft as possible, his usually violent hands becoming tender. Jason lost his father at a young age, and he would make sure that doesn’t happen with your baby.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy's reaction would be more layered. He'd laugh, finding the idea of being called dad by your child both amusing and strange. "Well, look who’s got great taste," he’d tease, his grin wide and mischievous. "Calling me daddy, huh ? Heck. I might start to like you, ya lil’ goblin !"

But deep down, there might be a flicker of something else—perhaps a sense of pride, though he’d never admit it. He’d probably try to play it off, cracking jokes, but you’d catch a glimmer in his eyes that says it means more than he lets on. Freddy wanted to be a father, before he died. But he never got the chance. So, he’d be secretly happy to keep an eye on your baby.

Chucky

Chucky would be taken aback, but his pride would swell almost instantly. "That's right, kid ! Dad's here !" he’d say with a wicked grin, clearly enjoying the title. He’d probably pick up the baby—carefully, for once—and start telling them how lucky they are to have him as their father. Chucky would take this as an ego boost and start acting like he's the best "dad" in the room, making jokes and pretending to give fatherly advice.

He would be the type of father to fight tooth and nail for his kid though—even though he pretends not to care.

Norman Bates

Norman would be stunned, unsure how to process being called dad. His face would soften as a mix of emotions flicker across his expression—uncertainty, fear, and a strange sense of warmth. He’s never really had anyone look to him in such a way before, and it would catch him off guard. "Dad…" he’d repeat softly, almost as if testing the word himself. There’s a brief moment where you see a tender, vulnerable side of him emerge. He’d be happy. But…He would also be conflicted because he’s never really had a father figure before and he would be afraid to not be up to the task…

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms would be overjoyed, his eyes lighting up with excitement as the baby calls him dad. He loves the idea of family and devotion, so this would feel like an affirmation of the bond he craves. "Did you hear that ? They called me dad !" Brahms would say, almost giddy with happiness. He’d immediately want to hold the baby, showing an unusually gentle side, savoring the moment as if it cements his place in your life even more deeply. He’d also wonder what it would be like to be YOUR partner…to be the real father of the child. Let me say, Brahms would actually buy you a wedding ring if that meant you would let him be yours and the baby’s family.

Bo Sinclair

Bo would smirk at first, his Southern drawl slipping out, "Well, ain’t that somethin’ ?" He’d be caught off guard, unsure if he should embrace it or brush it off. But deep down, the idea of being called dad would actually make him proud and happy. He’d probably roll with it, giving you a cocky smile, but you’d know from the way he looks at the baby that it’s gotten to him more than he’ll admit. He would wait until you are out of the room before kissing the baby’s forehead and whispering to it.

"Yeah…I’m yer Pa now, baby. And me and ya are gonna make yer mama so happy. You’ll see."

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent wouldn’t show much outward reaction at first, his face hidden beneath his mask, but he’d pause. The idea of being called dad by your child would stir something deep inside, something warm and unfamiliar. He’d probably kneel down, gently offering his hand to the baby, who’d grab onto his fingers. In that small, quiet moment, Vincent would silently accept the title, his body language soft and careful.

He would also take a picture—to remember that moment forever.

Pennywise

Pennywise would be utterly caught off guard. He’d be playing his usual mischievous role, trying to get the baby to laugh with goofy faces or strange noises when the word dad slips out. He’d freeze, his sharp teeth momentarily retreating, eyes widening in shock. "Dad, huh? Well, that’s new," he’d chuckle, though the sound would be a bit strained, a mix of amusement and uncertainty. Deep down, Pennywise would be torn between his natural chaos-loving self and an unfamiliar, almost protective instinct. After all, the word dad is reserved for those who care, and that’s not something he’s entirely familiar with. He doesn’t care. About anything or anyone. Still, he might lean into it, thinking of it as a twisted joke between the two of you, but somewhere in the back of his mind, the idea of being important to someone would linger.

Pennywise *hesitates before taking the baby in his arms* : "…You’re one ugly baby. But…I guess that’s okay. That just means am gonna have to take care of you."

Penny

Penny, on the other hand, would be thrilled. The second the baby says dad, he’d light up with genuine excitement, clapping his hands and letting out a loud, gleeful laugh. "Oh, did you hear that ? I’m dad !" he’d exclaim, picking up the baby and twirling them around carefully. Unlike his brother, Penny wouldn’t be conflicted—he’d embrace the title with his usual boundless joy, seeing it as the highest honor. He’d probably carry the baby around for the rest of the day, boasting to the others with pride.

Jack Torrance

Jack's reaction to being called dad by your baby would be complex. At first, he might freeze, his mind racing between his past as a father and the present moment. A flash of old memories might cross his face—memories of his son, Danny, and how things went terribly wrong. He might force a smile, but it wouldn’t reach his eyes. "Dad, huh ?" he’d mutter, his voice tinged with a strange mix of affection and unease. There’s a part of him that wants to embrace the title, to be a better father this time, but there’s another part—the darker part—that’s afraid of what that responsibility could mean for him. You’d catch a glimpse of his inner struggle as he tries to keep it together, quietly stepping back while nervously running a hand through his hair.

Jack would likely need a moment to collect himself, caught between the warmth of being seen as a father again and the haunting fear of repeating his past mistakes.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

devotee

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, MURDER!, DARK!RAFE but also equally soft!rafe, rafe is clearly mentally fucked uppppp omds, lets just say reader is very forgiving, descriptions of blood and gore, vomiting, pregnancy, semi public sex

you pant heavily as you look around the room, knowing the sight will haunt you for the rest of your life. your clothes are splattered with blood, but not your own.

you should have known this would happen. you blame yourself as you stare at the growing pool of blood around your boyfriends body. there's no point trying to save him, he's long gone, his eyes open and eerily staring at the ceiling, but theres nothing behind them.

you feel sick, and you make no move towards the bathroom. there's no point when the room is already a mess as you lean forward and vomit all over the carpet.

“aww, baby.” rafe coos, dropping the knife to the ground as he gathers your hair into a ponytail, holding it away from your face as you empty your stomach. 

“it's okay.” his words and the hand that is stroking up and down your back is soft, completely opposite of the heinous violent act he just committed.

you're unharmed, of course. rafe would never hurt you. his obsession runs far too deep.

“he's gone now.” rafe says as you stand up, looking at him with bloodshot eyes, snot dripping from your nose that you don't bother to wipe away. 

“rafe-” you mutter. the only word that you can get out is his name.

“oh, baby.” he pulls you into his chest. you don't fight back, releasing a sob, part out of guilt for finding his hold comforting, but mostly for your boyfriend dead on the floor.

you should have known rafe would come after him. even though you broke up with rafe a month ago, he never processed that you actually weren't together anymore. it's like his brain couldn't accept it.

so when you moved on, found a new guy who you liked decent enough, it only took rafe a week before barging in and ending him, thinking he was saving you.

“i got you.” rafe says, feeling you shake against him.

you can't get yourself to pull away, even as the metallic coppery smell hits your nostrils.

“let's get you home and then ill clean you up, okay?” rafe says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “ive missed you so much baby. the house feels so empty without you.”

“rafe-” you whine out.

“shh, don't try to talk.” he lifts you up so effortlessly it takes you a moment to realize that you're now off your feet, cradled in his big strong arms. “just let me take care of you.”

you know you should run, should scream, should call 911 and tell them everything. you should feel sadder for your boyfriend. you liked him. not like you love rafe, though, so you keep your mouth shut as he carries you out of the house and into his car, gently setting you in the passenger seat. he reaches across and grabs the buckle, doing it up for you before pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

the ride home is silent, your hand held in rafes as he breaks the speed limit to get you back to tanneyhill.

“you're home now.” rafe says as he pulls into the driveway.

you wait for rafe to round the car and let you out, of course once again scooping you into his arms. you never have to open a door when around rafe, or even lift a finger if you don't want to. 

he would be the perfect guy, sweet and utterly in love with you, if that love didn't distort reality.

“where was i?” you ask. “this last month?”

“you were having some time to yourself before that asshole tried to take you away from me.” rafes face turns sour at the mention of him. “but you're back now, so we don't need to worry about it.”

of course no mention of a breakup as rafe carries you right into the master bathroom. he sets you down on the counter before turning on the bath, adding a hefty amount of your favorite bath soak.

“what if the police come after you?” you question.

“they won't.” rafe says, walking over and cupping your cheek. “are you worried about me?”

you nod. you absolutely are. you don't know what you would do without rafe. even during your “break up”, he still paid for the rent of your apartment, sent you lunch and dinner every day, and texted you the sweetest things that always made your heartbeat a little faster.

“we’ll be fine baby, i promise.” rafes hands begin to work at taking your clothes off. you don't stop him, there's no point, he's seen it all before.

rafe undresses himself next before turning the water off once the tub is mostly filled, leaving enough space for both of you to soak together.

“ready?” he questions, thumb stroking against your cheek.

another nod and rafe is placing you in the bathtub before climbing in himself. 

you dunk yourself under the warm water, needing to get every drop of blood off of you. when you come back up, the water is tinted slightly red that almost makes you throw up again.

“i have a vacation planned for us.” rafe says. “to the seychelles, but if you want to go somewhere else-”

“that sounds nice.” you interrupt him. it really does. you need to get away from the outer banks for a while, maybe longer. 

“what if we moved?” you question. there's no point in pretending that you'll ever be without rafe. a breakup is clearly impossible, and with that month away, you realize that's not what you actually want.

“to where?” rafe asks, quirking his head to the side curiously. he's always wanting to know more about how your thoughts work, needing to learn everything he can about you.

“anywhere but here. maybe europe. london. madrid.” you shrug. “i just want a change of… scenery.”

a different town, a different country, maybe a different rafe. one where you don't know anyone for him to get jealous of and “rescue” you from.

“we'll figure it out after our vacation.” rafe offers, and you nod, falling into silence as he moves closer, glad the big tub allows for it as you cuddle together, eyes peacefully closing as you rest your head against his chest.

--

the resort is full of couples, mostly newlyweds happy and smiling and kissing, so it was natural when you sat down on rafes thigh to kiss him.

you hadn't realized how much you missed his lips, his hold, his touch, his cock.

rafe clenches his thigh muscle, hands coming to your hips and pushing you down onto his thigh, your bikini bottoms barely acting as a barrier as you let out a moan.

“rafe.” you moan out, keeping your voice quiet.

you're in a secluded cabana, but couples have occasionally walked past, able to see through the sheer white curtains surrounding the plush bedding.

“right here. right now.” rafe says. 

he didn't fuck you that night you came back to him, knowing you needed the rest. he didn't last night either, your first night on the island. the flight was long and you were excited to be somewhere new, so by the time you got back to your room, your were exhausted.

“but the people-”

“if anyone looks at us, ill just kill them.” rafe says.

you know it should worry you, that your first thought is then you'll have to cut your vacation short, but as rafe bounces his thigh, all care goes out the window.

“everyone here is drunk anyways.” you still keep your voice low as rafe lays back, switching so you're underneath him. “they probably won't notice.”

“mhm.” rafe hums, pushing his hips between your legs, parting your thighs as his crotch aligns with yours, rubbing his already hard cock against your covered pussy.

“tell me.” rafe says, burying his head into your neck.

you instantly know what he means. “you're my first. you're my only.”

it's the truth. you could never imagine sleeping with another guy. rafe is all you know, and all you'll ever know.

rafe reaches down, pulling his cock out but leaving his swim shorts as best in place as he can before tugging your bikini bottoms to the side.

rafe pushes into you in one smooth motion, making you moan out as your head tips back.

rafe stills despite the urge to obliterate you, allowing you time to adjust to his cock back inside of you.

“missed this.” you whine. “i-i love you so much rafe.”

“i love you so much more baby. id do anything for you.” including kill. the words go unsaid. they don't need to be spoken aloud.

rafe begins to swing his hips, pushing into you in slow and relaxed strokes, allowing you to build up slowly.

“fuck.” you whine out. “you feel so good.”

“me?” rafe chuckles dryly. “your pussy is so warm and wet baby, it's perfect. i would stay inside you forever if i could.”

you smile up at rafe, allowing yourself to forget the past and enjoy the way he's slowly moving faster, thrusting deeper and harder into you.

rafe cups his hand over your chest, squeezing your breast before moving the bikini top to the side to set your nipple free.

he's quick to arch his back and lock his mouth around your nipple until it hardens, his tongue flicking over the bud without a care for the path just outside your cabana.

“perfect body, baby. so perfect.” rafe switches sides, moaning around your chest. “everything about you is perfect.”

“i love you.” you want to say it over and over again. you pull rafes face to meet yours, kissing him deeply. “i love you.” you repeat.

“i love you.” rafe grunts out, keeping his hips thrusting forward. “ill never leave you. you're mine. im yours.”

--

you breath in the madrid air, letting the sun warm your face as you wait for rafe to return home to your new apartment.

when you casually mentioned wanting coffee, he was out the door as quickly as he could.

“baby!” rafe calls, heading through the rooms until he reaches the balcony. the smile on his face is infectious as he hands you a cup, of course the largest size, and if you wanted more, he'd be out the door again.

“don't think i can drink all this.” you giggle as you take the cup from him.

“ill just dump the rest.” rafe shrugs. he's so much calmer now that he's out of the outer banks. you've put everything behind you, deciding to start a new the moment your plane landed.

“it's not recommended.” you say. rafes eyebrows scrunch together, trying to understand what you mean.

“im only supposed to have a cup a day, but i still need to find a good doctor in madrid. one that specializes in what im going through.”

“what…” rafe mumbles, mind working overtime. you set your cup down as he thinks, already expecting his reaction when he works it out.

“you're pregnant!” rafe pulls you into his arms, the brightest smile you've ever seen on his face as he hugs and kisses you.

“you're going to be a dad.” you whisper into his ear, feeling tears hit your shoulder.

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 3 -

Prologue : Chapter 1 : Chapter 2 : Not edited : 4.3k words : M.List

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

A loud spark woke you up, a jolt coming from underneath you before you were pushed to the other side of the couch. Being violently pushed out of the dream you were in and into the land of the living. Katsuki was on the other side of the couch, where you just were, looking at his hands as small pops of his quirk went off. His face looks betrayed at his own body. Small pops until a bigger explosion rattled off his hands. Causing him to franticly wipe his hands off on his now torn-up shirt before he got to the sink and washed the sweat of his hands, and therefore the explosions.

All this happening within the minute you woke up was a lot. Watching him stand at the sink, defeated as he stared at his own hands. It was as if he murdered someone.

You remember waking up in the middle of the night, due to the bright screen of the TV. Quickly fumbling for a remote before you realized that you fell asleep in his arms. Cuddled together on the couch, his legs laying along the couch and you between them and laying on his chest. His arms holding you close. It was something you've never done before. It warmed your heart until you woke up to being pushed away.

"The fuck is happening Katsuki?" you pushed yourself from the couch, wearily walking closer to him. Trying to approach him as if he was an injured bird.

"Don't," he barked out, making you stop your approach.

"Kats?"

"I don't know," he felt defeated and it was obvious. His eyes alone spilled out his emotions. It was also obvious that he was lying about not knowing, something in the way he was looking at his hands told you that he knew. That he knew you couldn't be near. He stood there letting the water wash away his sweat.

You crossed your arms, frustrated that he didn't want to talk. "Is there anyway I can help?"

It was like watching a lightbulb go off in his head, "When can you get my watch done?"

"What?" you furrowed your brows, "How does tha-"

"How soon? Can you speed it up?" he cut you off.

It felt like he just wanted you gone, a chore to busy you while he figured this out himself. "Why? I can but why?"

"It's probably the only way you can help," his voice was honest.

You uncrossed your arms, wanting to take a step closer. "I can't get it done any faster than a week, and that's pushing it. I wouldn't be able to add the whole 'not letting people cancel your quirk,' I can get the password set though."

"Fuck it, I just want the watch as soon as possible at this point," only now did he let his hands out of the water, moving to dry them off.

Now you stood at the other-side of the counter than him, "Is your quirk acting up?"

He's been avoiding eye-contact till now, his hands sparking in response. "Something like that. I need a shower." He quickly pushed past the kitchen and went to the bathroom.

Without anymore guidance, and pure concern, you decided to get ready in order to head to the office and get his watch done sooner. Quickly getting dressed before knocking on the bathroom, a sharp explosion popping off at your knock. "Kats?" you called, getting a sharp grunt in reply, "I'm heading to the office, I'll get your watch done sooner if I pull later nights."

He said a goodbye and you headed out the door and to your office.

---

You still worked at Endeavor's agency, now Shoto's agency, with Endeavor retiring. He was still sitting on the name change for the company, not knowing how to go about it. His first actions were to hire Deku, Iida, Momo, Uraraka, and other classmates as pro heroes, keeping Endeavor's old employees as well. A surprise to you, and likely everyone else, was that he invited Katsuki as well. Giving him a rank alongside him, just like he offered Izuku. The biggest surprise was that Katsuki accepted it, alongside with a vow that he would leave the second he got a high enough rank to start building his own. Which he was slowly doing. He had a separate agency he worked out of with his other closest friends, but he was still coworking with Shoto. Only recently switching to actually work out of his own. He didn't want to leave his friends entirely just yet.

Shoto also promoted you, allowing you an entire floor for yourself and other techs that you hired. It was nice. Mei and you were the only ones of the floor currently. Leaving tons of empty space.

You each had your own office for paperwork and designing the sketch, an office for conferences, and a huge work room for actually making the support gear. It felt wasteful for only two technicians but the agency had four other floors of techs that were constantly working.

Made it a long elevator ride up to your floor through. Being on the 15th floor after all, closest to where the heroes worked.

A familiar voice calling your name cause you to look up from your phone, meeting Izuku's bright smile. "I thought you didn't work Sundays?" he said as he stepped in the elevator with you, pressing the button to his floor.

"Ah, I don't," you put your phone in your pocket, "Kats wanted me to get some gear done for him. His quirk is getting weird."

He tilted his head, "The watch?"

"Yeah, he wants it done as soon as possible," you nodded, remembering the meeting they had about it, "Has his quirk been doing this often?"

"I haven't seen it happen in a while, but I don't doubt that it's happening still," he nodded.

"It's scary, he won't talk to me about it," you expressed, worried about your boyfriend and hopeful his friend knew anything.

"He's fine, he's..he's just changing," Izuku struggled to put out. Pausing for the right words, "Don't stress over it."

You laughed at the idea, "Like that's possible? He almost blew my face off this morning with his quirk."

Izuku's face paled, "I'm sure it's fine. I bet it's something that'll go away with time."

"How can that be fine?"

The elevator dinged that it was at your floor.

"Kacchan will tell you eventually," he gave you a nervous smiled and pushed you from the elevator and closing the doors before you could yell at him.

"Asshat," you muttered, walking to your office.

Setting down your bag before you grabbed Katsuki's file. Flipping to the page of his watch. The drawings for the design were all worked out, just needed to plaster it together.

You had the materials to make the watch itself, just not the technology to make it disable his quirk. So you planned to get the framework done today so it would be ready for everything that was coming in the shipment tomorrow.

---

The transition into work was easy and fluent. Music pumping a steady beat into the air as you put each thing together. It was consuming the work you've been doing for the past six or so hours, making each step of the process more fluid then the last. A rhythm of the technique you've built over the years of working on gear.

You were sitting at your workbench, magnifying glasses covering your eyes, allowing you to see the smallest details that you were adding to the band. Quirk constantly activated so you wouldn't mess up in placements, needing the most practical design for the watch but wanting it to match him all the same.

After the framework was done in the watch, hollow for the functional aspects of the watch, you skipped to the details. Carving in a slight explosion outline, something you added on all his gear in the smallest parts. Showing it was his and only his.

It was well into the afternoon by the time you heard the elevator ding again. Music was blasting all throughout the room but you could still hear the faint steps of what sounded like metal coming towards you.

The brief thought of an intruder flashed through your mind. It wasn't uncommon for tech rooms to get raided, it was expected. Emergency procedures were added for the event though. A button was just needed to be pressed before heroes on the upper level were alerted.

That worry didn't last long, a quick check to your phone reminded you that Mei was coming in today. An idea hit her during 'breakfast', which was at 4pm, so she was coming into work.

Soon enough the doors opened, "Hey! Still working on blasty's stuff?"

You looked up at her, forgetting the glasses you were wearing. Letting out a gasp at her zoomed in face. To which she crackled out a laugh. You placed the glasses on the table, rubbing your eyes, "Yeah, I've finished all I can though, need tomorrow's shipment to do anything else."

"What's he having you do?" She made her way out of the door and towards your station. it was a huge room, used to make and test the supplies.

"He wanted me to make a watch for him, quirk proof and shit," you pushed the watch in her direction, letting her pick it up and look at it.

"Ah, lame, I was curious about his gauntlets. You always add cool shit to them every time," she placed the watch back down. Moving to her work station that was next to yours despite the amount of room. It was good company.

"I was probably going to start working on them, I finished everything on the watch, and I'm already in the flow state," you shrugged, pushing yourself up and off the chair. Grabbing the watch to put it in Katsuki's case. Grabbing his gauntlets instead. "I'll probably finish these and head out, been here since 9 this morning I think."

Mei hummed, "I won't be here for long either, want to go drink or something?"

You walked back to your station setting down the new materials you had to use, putting away the stuff you used on the watch. "Yeah, I'll have to ask Kats."

"Why?" Mei looked at you sideways.

"It's his only day off, I don't want to just ditch him. He is my boyfriend after all, I hardly seem him as is," you muttered.

"You're basically just roommates with a different label, I doubt he will care," Mei laughed out, "Come on, you deserve a drink just for dealing with his ass."

It strung, what she said. You already felt like you and Katsuki didn't pass for a couple, and Mei didn't fail to bring it up every time. You knew she was just teasing. So you hoped he would say no, just to prove that he wanted you around.

"Fine I'll ask," you brushed off her comments, grabbing your phone to text him

You Mei wants to go drinking, am I good to join her? I don't mind spending the night at home with you if you want. Kats Nah, do what you want. I'm probably going to go to the gym.

"He said yes," you breathed out, trying to mask the subtle unease with excitement. It felt like he's been pushing you away. Constantly bringing up how he didn't feel that you were happy enough. At this point you don't know if he was genuinely worried or if he was projecting.

"Fuck yeah! I've been wanting a beer, I know a good bar downtown," Mei cheered. You saw her setting up her station, prepared to weld some of her older protypes together.

"I got to ask though," you started, grabbing her attention, "So the other night, Nana texted me. Did she tell you why she needed my number?"

"Huh? No, why?" Mei set down her equipment and crossed her arms to look at you, curious.

"She asked if my boyfriend was hitting me," you breathed out, "Was hoping you didn't agree with her."

"Nah," she brushed off your worries, "I know Blasty isn't that type of guy, if I knew that's why she wanted your number I would of told her. I don't think she knew you were dating him."

"Good," you let out a breath of relief.

"Don't worry, I may make fun, but I know he's devoted to you," Mei reassured before clapping her hands together harshly, "Now I need to see if what I'm thinking works." She slapped her welding helmet down.

Mei was a good friend of yours, similar but different in many ways. She dug into your relationship but you knew she meant well. It was helpful that every once in a while she would confirm that too. Teasing that you guys were hardly a relationship while he was gone but teasing him for how he looked at you. Saying it was like a puppy that was trying to get a tennis ball from under the couch. Just out of reach.

She knew of the small aspects of your relationship, you've shared more to her than others, due to her not being in the primary circle of friends. She was your outlet, and she was also a good secret keeper. So you spilled to her the small things, after all it was easy to slip the details with how many night and days you've spent working alongside her. It was a way to fill the silence.

She knew how and why you and Katsuki got together. She knew about the crush you had on him from way before high school, and she knew of the odd first kiss you shared. And most surprisingly, she was the only one that you've told about not once getting intimate with Katsuki and in general. She knew how a kiss with him stayed a kiss and nothing more. How a hug was always just a hug. It was nice for her to know all the nitty gritty of it, it was refreshing.

You grabbed a welding helmet, putting it on and flicking it down to cover your eyes. Letting out a sigh as you prepared to work. Thankful that Mei was already wearing one, and got to work on the details to his gauntlets.

---

Before you knew it, you were seated at a bar, placed near the corner so Mei could people watch as much as possible. The bar was in a constant chatter, only some groups being overly loud. It wasn't anything like the bars that Mina or Uraraka went to. It was nice, the normal for you and Mei when you did go out.

You and Mei instantly ordered several rounds of shots, starting the night out strong. Letting the alcohol hit you fast and hard in order to stay drunk throughout the night rather than slowly get there. It was your routine together. Getting drunk then sipping on beers or mixed drinks the rest of the night to keep the buzz.

Mei took a long swig of her beer, "So," she smiled at you, roughly placing the bottle back down, "How ya been?"

"Normal I guess," you shrugged, picking up your drink as well, fighting slightly with the straw.

"Come on, there has to of been something. We haven't hung out solo in a week," she clasped your shoulder, as if she was shaking the information out of you.

You laughed, "I don't know, Mei."

"Really? Nothing?" Mei sighed. She tapped her fingers against the bar, looking around the room for some conversation. Her eyes landing on the TV above the bar, "Deku's getting quite buff, huh?"

"Huh?" you looked at the TV she was staring at. Sure enough, Deku was wearing a bright smile as he talked through an interview. It was a talk show, one he hated showing up on because the late hours, but it was good for hero ratings.

"He was cute during high-school but now he's a man," Mei emphasis with her tone, saying man more sharply than the rest.

"I guess? He's a lot taller now," you shrugged.

"I forgot you're lame," Mei groaned, "Only having eyes for Blasty."

A light went off in your head, "Oh, about Katsuki-"

"All I had to do was mention him? Couldn't of thought of this before I drooled over your best friend," Mei glared.

"Sorry," you shrugged, taking another sip of your drink, feeling the liquor flow through you. "He's been weird lately-"

"Weirder than normal?"

"Shut up, it's hard enough to think as is," you pushed her lightly, "He's been weirder more often. You know how he and I don't.. you know.. do that sort of stuff.." you were fumbling with your hands, not wanting to repeat the confession.

"Yeah?" Mei drawed out.

"Well he obviously heard us talking the other night, when I said that physical touch is my main love language. It's thrown him for a loop. He's constantly asking if I'm happy or if I want him," you rushed out.

"Makes sense, everyone kind of shit on the idea of not giving your partner your all," Mei sipped her beer, "I'd be worried too."

You groaned, "I know but I've told him many times that I want him regardless. And on top of that, his quirk has been acting up lately. To the point he wanted me to make a watch that turns it off."

Mei tilted her head, placing her beer down, "Acting up how?"

"Well this morning, we woke up cuddling and his quirk went off, almost burned the couch. Another when I hugged him, got closer to him, and even when I talked to him while he was showering. Which is odd cause the water should of washed anything away."

She sat on that for a while. Racing through different possibilities. "Doesn't his quirk go off with emotions?"

"It used to, I don't think so anymore."

"When you first kissed, wasn't his quirk off? Same with the next few?" Mei pointed out.

"Yeah? What does that have to do with anything?" you took another sip of your drink, waiting for her to get to the point.

"Didn't his hands spark whenever you tried to hold them?" you nodded. "You are so stupid," Mei laughed, "You'd think with your quirk that you would've known."

"Known what?"

"He's nervous around you! So his quirk pops off," she pushed your shoulder teasingly.

You shook your head, "No, cause why would it be worse lately?"

"Because he knows you want more! Simple," she clapped her hands together.

"I don't know Mei, that doesn't sound like him," you brushed past the idea, finishing off your drink. "It's more likely the opposite. I'm worried his quirk is just showing that he doesn't want me near in general, and that me having a different love language is his 'out' of the relationship."

"I mean, think what you want," she hummed, "But trust me, he is in love with you. He couldn't do that to you."

---

You stumbled through the door way. Fumbling with your keys and toeing your shoes off before fully entering. Trying to tip-toe through the kitchen, craving something sweet. All your drunk limbs cause do was make the ice-cream fall from the freezer and onto your toe, "Shit," you cursed hopping around for the pain to fade. Holding onto your hurt foot as you jumped the pain away. Hopping in the direction of the silverware before you fell.

Not letting the height effect you, you opened the drawer and barely grabbed a spoon. Sliding back to the ice cream container that was on the floor. Opening it and leaning against the fridge as you started to eat it away.

"The fuck did I just watch," Katsuki grumbled from the hallway, looking at you on the floor.

"I was hungry," you shrugged, scooping another bite.

He flicked the light on, making you hiss and cover your eyes till he turned it back off, "It's almost midnight, why are you home so late?"

Content that the light was back off, you continued eating, "I don't know."

"How drunk are you?" He crossed his arms.

"Very," you laughed, leaning your head back against the fridge.

"Mei is a horrible influence," Katsuki sighed, stepping towards you and lifting you off the floor.

"Nah, she makes some good decisions, and points," you argued, letting him guide you to your room.

"Like what?" he entertained.

"Well, I'm not sure about this one, but," you paused, "She says that you spark with your quirk because you're nervous around me."

His footing fumbled slightly, before letting himself stall for too long, he led you to your room, laying you on your bed and under the covers.

"Well?" you asked.

"Well what?"

"Is it true?"

"You're drunk," he dodged.

"Yeah, I told her it was dumb. You would of told me," you smiled at him, getting yourself cozy under the sheets. Glad that your touch didn't scare him away. Just left you concern what the actual reason was.

He flinched at how confidently you said that, guilt consuming his bones as he was doing the exact thing you thought he wouldn't. "Goodnight," you squeezed his hand.

"Night," he muttered.

---

A migraine was all you woke up with the next day, last nights events ruining through your brain. Main regret was how much you had to drink, cause you to puke in the bar bathroom, the men's bathroom at that. Mei went with you but it was still odd to rush into the wrong gender's bathroom and puke. Hearing their laughter while face down in the toilet.

The conversation with Katsuki also stung a little. Made you question what your relationship meant lately.

You turned to pick up your phone, blinding yourself with your screen. Rubbing your eyes awake before you could properly read the time.

It was just past noon, having slept in an extra four hours then normal. Your bedside table also had some water for you, with ice in a good water bottle that stayed cold. You already had medicine in your bedside table, so you fished that out to get rid of your migraine.

You smiled at the fact that Katsuki plugged your phone in and got you water, he might not say that he loves you, but he shows it. It shook away some worry that he was only with you due to not having a way out, but you were still worried at what it could be.

Before you could let the thought fester and ruin your day, you decided to go to the office. Wanting to start on Katsuki's watch again. The shipment came in around ten, so everything would be available to you.

After a shower and some breakfast, you decided to take a job to the office, wanting to get in a better mindspace so you were ready to jump straight into work. It was only a 20 minute walk as well.

---

Reaching the agency, out of breath and tired, you dragged your feet into the elevator. Grabbing supplies from the other tech floors before heading up to your own.

Walking into your office to meet Shoto.

"Hey?" you questioned, setting your stuff down on the table behind where he was standing.

"Sorry, Midoriya said that you'd be in," Shoto stood leaned against your work table, hands propping him up.

"Hope you haven't been waiting long," you apologized, walking around your table to grab stuff to start working, "how can I help you?"

"My suit has been off, the cooling facture broke, been having to do it myself mid fight," he went straight to the point.

You noted that he set down his briefcase, the one that held his hero suit. "That should be an easy fix, do you need it soon?" you pulled the case towards yourself, taking out his suit and looking for the cooler.

"I'm going to see my brother, but I'd need it after," his voice stayed monotone, but you knew Dabi-Touya was a sore subject.

You looked up from his suit, "I can get it done by then, is anyone else joining you?"

Shoto coughed, "I think Momo, she's been curious of his improvement."

"That's good," you smiled. The two of them have been close and she was a good pillar of support for him.

"Yes, I'll be back at three, will you be here after?" he looked at his watch.

"I'll be in office until at least seven, got a late start so i need to put in some hours," you confirmed.

"Thanks," he bowed a goodbye and went on his way.

He stayed formal with you despite knowing you since first year at UA, and working with you since second year. Having you do his minor support gear during school because his dad didn't let you touch his son's gear. Only the best for his trophy.

Shoto told him otherwise eventually, having you be head of design for his gear.

The two of you were never necessarily close, but would definitely consider the two of you friends. If you needed each other, you'd be there basically.

He's told you about his brother Touya one night over some cold soba. He wasn't able to fall asleep easily the month that Dabi revealed. So one night, you went to the kitchen hungry in the middle of night, finding him with his head in his hands at the island.

Your voice startled him at first, but after an offer of food, he started talking.

After that was when he started to let you work on his gear a little.

You looked over the small wiring in his suit, finding only a disconnected wire. Connecting it was easy enough, one of the fastest fixes you've had in awhile. You'd have him test the temperature when he was back.

Your phone buzzed from the corner of the table. Katsuki's contact flashing the screen.

"Are you in the office yet?" he asked once you answered.

"Yeah," you put Shoto's case off to the side. Recentering Katsuki's watch.

"Lunch?"

"Sure," you hummed.

"I'm meet you at your office," he started.

"Wait! I'll meet you at yours," you cut him off.

"Why?"

"I'm already in the elevator, I'll just go up an extra few floors. You're at Shoto's agency right?" you lied, quickly grabbing a few things before actually heading towards the elevator. You wanted to keep the watch design a surprise till you gave it to him.

"Yeah, it's Monday," he pointed out. He worked there every Monday.

"Anyway, I'll see you in a second," rather than letting you say a full goodbye, he hung up.

A sigh left your lips. He's been a constant off and on again with how he is around you. You wanted to stay glad he asked for lunch, but the abrupt goodbye was unusual, just like all his other behavior recently. Maybe the watch would help his quirk, and therefor the stress of the relationship.

Hopefully the relationship went back to normal.

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3

@americasass1942 @ofcqdesi @atashiboba @juicyfingers @thescarletwallflower @keiva1000 @snxwflwr @kazuumii @mushroomsneedystuff @ivuriexo @supersecretsamm @kaboomkayla

[annabelle--cane]

this is a difficult thing to have conversations about because it provokes really strong reactions in people for completely valid and understandable reasons, so please feel free to hit da bricks on this post whenever you want, but I do want to try and analyse the jonmartin slaps. we get three across 160, 169, and 172, and a line addressing it in 173, and then it never happens or comes up again. none of them come out of nowhere, and they mostly fly under the radar until 173 because they all broadly fit the "slapping someone out of a trance in an emergency" trope, but each of them slowly decreases in urgency.

the first time, the apocalypse starts up and martin comes back to find a passed out jon, can't wake him by making noise, and strikes him in a panic. this makes sense, this is a man who has entered a supernatural coma before and martin had no idea what was going on, so of course he'd jump to something desperate.

the second time, they're in a burning building, jude arrives while jon is still mid-statement, and when making noise doesn't work martin slaps him out of it. this makes sense, they were there for jude and if jon didn't come back to himself then she likely would have hurt them, though martin knew that her powers against them were limited.

the third time, jon is getting pulled into into a repeating statement instead of coming out on his own like usual, so martin speaks once or twice to try and get his attention, and then slaps him out of it. this... again, it makes sense, jon was getting trapped, but there was no immediate peril like before, martin just got freaked out and wanted to leave quickly. he seems to get that it was harsh because he apologizes for it, but they don't linger at all, martin just starts in on them having to leave immediately.

the last time it's mentioned is when they're on night street, during what is one of their most intense arguments. jon tries to talk about the suffering of the children there for longer than he needs to in order to make a point, martin cuts him off, and he pointedly says, "thank you for not hitting me this time." it never happens or is brought up again.

to our knowledge, jon doesn't say anything about the slapping until 173. he's not a guy who's known for speaking up when things upset him, he was amiably working with daisy within about a week of her trying to kill him, so it makes sense that he would just sit with this comparatively more minor thing. however, I do think it's relevant to note that, at this point in their relationship, martin will sometimes voice his feelings and boundaries (not listening to statements, not consenting to mind reading, worrying when jon expresses discomfort with his body), while jon doesn't. from the couple of times he does talk about his feelings this season, I think that tendency comes a few places: he has a hard time being aware of his emotions at all, he doesn't know how to evaluate his emotions' importance in comparison to others', he assumes his emotions are obvious and thus people already act with full knowledge of them, and the topic is just hard to make himself talk about. from what he says in 173, I think the slaps bothered him the entire time, but he made himself be fine with it until he was upset with martin for unrelated reasons and finally let it out.

as for martin's side, I do not think the slaps came from any kind of suppressed desire to hurt or wield power over jon. we've seen him when he's angry at jon, this isn't how he acts, he gets shouty and indignant but never violent. I'd even go as far as to say he doesn't do it in 173 because he's genuinely upset at jon and the situation they're in, and it would never occur to him to deliberately inflict pain on someone he cares about to assert control over them. the connecting line between all of them is fear from something that he wants jon to help him handle. the apocalypse starts, he is stuck inside one of his worst nightmares, and he's paranoid that the web took control of him. he's someone who is "always following, never leading" (170), and he gets tunnel vision when something scares him and his "leader" isn't there.

jon did need to be pulled out of all three of those situations, and words proved insufficient, and maybe a quick jolt of pain was the only thing that could have worked, but martin doesn't seem to consider what that would feel like from jon's pov. in my experience of relationships, if there's ever an unavoidable emergency where you do actually need to cross a line that you never would otherwise, you talk about it afterwards. you do a debrief where you say "I'm really sorry about that, I didn't see another way, I'll try and be better prepared next time." they do this for problems they have later on (177, 198), but martin doesn't do that here. jon's point-of-view just doesn't seem to occur to him. when jon expresses discomfort, he drops the tactic without a word; later, when he needs to anchor jon in the panopticon, he talks him through it before it can get too far. so, it's not about a lack of care for jon's feelings.

I think it comes down to a few things: a) his occasional tendency to treat people as a means to an ends and not think about their perspective. he's so glued to putting others first most of the time that when he stops, he can't find a middle ground and forgets that other people can have feelings about his actions. b) his problems with conceiving of himself as a person of any importance who is capable of doing anything, especially of doing harm. as a concept, "hurting jon" is the thing he would least like to do in the whole world, it is his nightmare scenario and literally the culminating moment of his tragedy. he finds it almost unthinkable, so the idea that he does it casually when he's scared doesn't cross his mind. one of his central worries at this point is that jon is now so powerful that he no longer needs martin, how could he hurt someone like that? he's not anywhere near a comparable level of importance, it's not like he has his own domain that he's not aware of because jon told him about it and he immediately rejected the information. he's powerless and could never bring himself to hurt the man he loves.

I just. think it's an interesting microcosm of some of the lows of their relationship. once the problem is discovered martin instantly takes the note and doesn't put it on jon to explain himself further or assuage his guilt, they are willing and able to adapt, but it still comes from some of their bedrock flaws. martin doesn't understand that he can hurt people, and jon has such an inflated understanding of his capacity to hurt people that it sabotages his self-worth and his ability to respond to pain and displeasure.

[shiny-kaibernyte]

Arven Headcannons (Romantic)

No warnings: Just pure fluff

There are a few general headcannons in here and a couple of how i think him and Nemona's friendship would be. But its 90% fluff. I actually wrote WAYYYY more than what's in this post but i didn't think people would want to read an entire Essay. So here are a selection!

This man cannot bake for anything. Give him a grill and bread, he will give you a 5 star meal. Give him a whisk and a cake tray, he will burn the house down. So don’t expect a homemade cake on your birthday. Or at least don’t expect one from him.

He was Smitten with you the moment you agreed to help him on his Titan Quest. Reluctantly or joyfully, hearing you agreeing made him fall head over heels for you and he didn’t even know it. Maybe that's why he tried extra hard on those Sandwiches. 

Arven and Nemona used to fight over the best friend position, You’d usually have to stand in the middle of them to prevent their Pokémon battles from spilling into personal ones. Arven would later claim the Boyfriend card once Area Zero was dealt with, Nemona was very pleased to cement the best friend spot.

You are the only other person who's allowed to take Mabosstiff out on walks. You're his person, so you get the puppy. Nemona and Penny both tried, it resulted in Arven throwing a tomato at Nemona and Penny slowly backing out of the room. He did mourn the tomato though… he wanted that tomato.

Arven isn’t necessarily Protective, but he is observant. He will defend your honour and voice with every ounce of his being. But he also isn’t a violent person, that's what Pokémon battles are for. 

That being said, if something did happen to you, especially if you fell ill. He would go to hell and back to find some way of helping you. He already proved that much, just don’t bail on him if he needs you most.

Love Language: Gift Giving + Quality time.

If he can, he will SPOIL you. He never had someone love him the way you do. Show him the kindness and compassion that makes his heart sore. If he could give you the world. He’d hand you the Galaxy on a silver plate. But until he can find a Cosmo. A plushie will have to be done for now.

He is not a morning person at all. The only reason you will ever find him up before midday is for one of two reasons: A teacher told him off for being late and he’s only got 1 more warning before another suspension OR Mabosstiff dragged him out of bed by the ankle and forced him to go outside. There is no other reason.

Terrible at video games, absolutely horrendous. Dude can’t even play Minecraft without throwing the controller. Penny tried to teach him how to play Stardew Valley, he got angry at Pierre for the backpack price and hasn’t picked up the game again. Though he’s happy to watch you play and will hold down a button if you get tired. Never ask him to play though… unless you need to laugh, then ask. 

One time you tried to put a bow on Mabosstiff ‘s head. With no recollection how or why, it somehow ended up in Arven’s hair. You have now learnt Arven can rock a manbun and a sparkling pastel pink bow. 

When you first stayed the night, dude slept like a board. He did not move a single cell in his body. It wasn’t until you were resting your head on his chest that he actually moved. He has since loosened up, but it took a while for him to trust himself enough to even touch you when you slept. 

He cannot Flirt. You cannot tell me otherwise.

He bought you both onesies to wear on movie nights. Yes he has to have a Saturday movie night with you or he gets grumpy. 

Sometimes Arven will bring you lunch or make you breakfast so he knows you have eaten at least something during the day. Plus he also uses it as an excuse to see you smile but he will never say that to your face. Only Mabosstiff.

Dude is terrified of Cetitan. Ever since the "mountain incident" Cetitan is his greatest enemy. Arven tries to act tough and unafraid to impress you but, Grusha has and will continue to use this fear to his Advantage any time Nemona drags Arven to the Mountains. You totally didn’t make a deal with Grusha and Nemona, that isn’t something you did… Wink wink.

You don’t borrow his clothes, he donates them. There have been numerous occasions you have opened a drawer or wardrobe to find one of his numbers, jackets, vests, anything! Just something new of his somewhere for you to have. He will even buy different sizes if you prefer baggy shirts or snug shirts.

He remembers everything and yet nothing at the same time. You ask him what day it is, he’ll look at you like you just asked him to explain calculus to a class of year 1’s. Ask him your favourite movie!? Arven will go into excruciating detail about everything to the point you’d think he directed it. Nemona and Giacomo once held a quiz night on Arven just to test how much he did remember. Dude remembered nothing about anyone else, except birthdays… he’s good at that. But you dude could write your autobiography. 

Dude has zero fear of heights, once Miridon learnt how to fly, anytime Arven would join you, he’d always sit behind you so he could hold your waist. It’s been a little thing of his ever since Area Zero, he can’t not do it. Even if he’s the better driver; Dude will sit behind you as an excuse to just hold you.

Almost No PDA he is a private person. He does lean on you though or will stand behind you almost like a bodyguard. If he does touch you in public it's usually a reassuring hand on the shoulder, on the small of your back to guide you somewhere or your arm locked into his. He isn’t a hand holder, he usually is carrying something or needs his hands free so he does subtle stuff instead.

[frmisnow]

MERLOT !

summary. nothing scarier then confronting past memories and being vulnerable!

notes. well! tbh i find it rly fascinating what events from their childhood make ppl act the way they do in relationships so i thought it would be intresting to dive into oc a lil further! hope y'all enjoy ˚⋆.✧˚

warnings /includes. ( 1.8 k / angst, fluff) comforting! 'let me take care of u'! ceo! jungkook x non specified! reader, hints at domestic abuse and daddy issues, angst, rly bad ex :/ , comfort!

the plane was once again quiet.

he doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, doesn't talk. you knew this would happen, you change people for the worse, that's what your father used to say. he became violent, blamed it on you and your 'reckless' behavior.

that's what happened to your ex as well; you used to like the innocence he asserted to you. embraced it, bathed in it because you finally felt like you learnt how to earn love. changed yourself for love.

but it was never enough, everything you offered at some point wasn't fulfilling to him. he changed too, not for good.

you don't want to ruin jungkook.

jungkook rarely even looked at you, didn't talk to you either besides business. and you are so scared that you had already worn onto him, that he was beginning to change as well.

not long after the plane landed, you're outside, wandering aimlessly through the city streets. the cold night air bites at your skin, but it doesn’t help to clear your mind.

you want to drown it out, drown him out. and it hurt because that was exactly what prompted you to meet him in the first place, you had wanted to drown your ex out. now the circle repeated itself.

why did life have to be so fucking unfair?

you push open the wooden door, it felt way to heavy, it was just a random bar you spotted while walking.

greeted an older bartender, ordered an whiskey. you happened to take a look at the bottle label: it was one of the ones jungkook had on his display. you were sure that your own life was actively playing a cruel joke on you.

but the pain is stubborn it doesn't go away with just a sip, clinges onto you, harder. you take another sip, bigger, it's another attempt — it was no use.

you want to go back to milan, at exactly 1:37am, walking around with him. but sadly, time doesn't cooperate so you motion for another drink, that's really all that you could do.

"drinking are we?" you hear a voice just as you settle the empty second glass on the table and you freeze momentarly. you don't have to turn around to see who it was, you knew the sharp and disapproving tone.

and suddenly the pain gets replaced with deep disgusting fear. earlier you had thought that you would rather feel anything else then the strong ache but you had been wrong. the misary had been better then this new emotion.

you give him the silence treatment, don't turn around, don't talk. in reality you were way to scared to look back in the first place.

"you're just like your father"

his words shouldn't get to you because deep down you knew he was wrong. you were nothing like the man he compared you to, could never be like him. but it still got to you, it stung.

it reopened wounds that you had worked tightly on wrapping and you frantically try to work on closing them again as he spat out more of his anger. the more he spoke, the more did your vision blurry and it made it impossible to tie them back properly.

he reaches his hand forward to touch your shoulder and you scream, tears coating your face. you think it would be a sight that would push him away, he hated seeing you a true mess, it wasn't the clean version he liked of you. yet he trys again, a smirk on his face.

you burry yourself behind the bartender's counter as the security drags him away, tears continue streaming down your face as you dial jungkooks number.

you don't remember what you tell him, you don't even quite understand yourself through the sobs but you do remember jungkook asking you if you were safe right now, that you should stay right there and that he'd be there in ten.

he makes it in seven.

jungkook holds your hand tightly while he leads you to his car, it was pouring. you wondered how he managed to be so fast without getting into an accident. he doesn't start the engine instead continues holding both of your hands calmly as you cry, doesn't ask any questions either.

he gives you a few more minutes, kisses your palms, tells you to breathe, tells you you're safe. you lean back against the seat, feeling the car’s warmth gradually ease the chill from your bones while he starts driving.

eventually, you make it to his house. you hadn't been able to fully register it back when you were drunk, but it was big, expensive, maybe a bit depressing with it's minimalist structure.

jungkook doesn't pressure you to talk inside too, wraps you in a fluffy blanket, prepares tea with a concentration that was admirable like he was perfecting it just for you as you watch him from your designated spot on the coach.

he sits beside you and brings your legs across his lap, handing you the warm cup full of tea. he watches you carefully as you blow on it gently before taking a tentative sip while he rubs your ankle comfortingly.

you take another sip from the tea, it's something cherry-flavored, burning hot. you rest your head against the familar coach, looking at him. you don't want to talk, don't want to disrupt the peace you felt right now, with the things your ex had done and said.

words full of anger and spite have no space and no use near jungkook, not now, not today.

he brings his hands to cup the back of your neck softly, "i can run you a hot bath, get you some clothes"

you close your eyes momentarly at his touch and your vocie cracks, "i'm sorry" you're sorry that you couldn't get over yourself and tell him what happened, sorry that the words of the man who hurt you so much still have so much effect over you, sorry that you hurted jungkook by ignoring him for the past few days.

jungkook shakes his head, "no, don’t apologize. you don't have to tell me what happened if you're not ready,” he pauses, “but i was really scared. when you called. i just-"

jungkook takes a deep breath. he runs his fingers over your shoulders before speaking again, “i just want you to be happy. just want you to be safe.”

you take a pause because those were beautiful words. but that's the thing with words, somebody says something beautiful, you want to remember but then you slowly start to forget. you wanted jungkook to tell you that everyday, so you'd never.

"i want you to be happy too," i'm just sure you wouldn't be happy with me. is the part you leave out, not wanting to ruin the moment.

his eyes soften as he watches over you, fingers brushing over your features, "i want to take care of you"

after you're finished with your tea, he guides you to the bathroom gently. helps you get out of your clothes, places light kisses on your back, makes sure the water is just warm enough.

he kisses the spot right below your ear while he begins slowly shampooing your hair, “do you want to talk about it now?” he asks quietly.

it's hard to get your tongue to speak but you feel jungkooks reassuring hands, it's the same hand which pull the words out gently. so you tell him about your ex, tell him about how he used to like you, tell him what he said, how he tried to touch you.

tell him about your father. not everything because some memories your brain simply locked for your own safety.

and he listens, doesn't interrupt a single time, kissing your shoulders as you talk about your childhood. "you deserve to be loved," jungkook says, so sincerely, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

the precious words sink into the sea of your heart, calm down the strom, fill you with inner warmth.

"i'm scared," you look down at your hands in the water, "i don't want to become him, i don't want to hurt you."

"you're not him and will never be," he says softly, as if he's stating a simple fact, "you're strong, kind and you care, so much more then anybody would"

there’s no hesitation in his gaze, no flicker of uncertainty — only a steady conviction that makes you want to believe him.

“you’ve been hurt, so much more than anyone should have to bear,” jungkook continues, his hands sliding down to hold yours under the water. “but that doesn’t mean you’re doomed to repeat the past. it doesn’t mean you’re destined to hurt anyone.”

his gaze wanders of to your intertwined hands shortly until he looks back at you, "you have the power to chose differently, to be better. and you already have chosen."

"and you deserve somebody who cares for you, loves you, cherishes you, i want to be that person for you."

you're still scared. the possibilties of you hurting somebody as precious as jungkook were deeply engraved into your mind but you ignore them, nodding slowly to brush them away. to be selfish for once. "i want to be that for you too"

jungkook smiles in response, wiping away the water droplets from your face, “let’s finish up so we can get you into bed, pretty.”

he helps you stand up, envelopes you in a towel, asks you if you can sit down for him so he can dry your hair. tenderly makes sure to not leave out a single wet strand until every bit of water was gone.

all that can be heard was the rain that was now a lot softer then it was a few hours ago, tapping against the window. you can smell jungkooks scent on the clothes he gave you earlier, you could feel his arms around you, the expensive sheets quality below.

he shifts slightly, his lips pressing little kisses over your jawline and cheeks, asking muffled, "what do you want?" as he continues his services, "i'll give you everything"

you think about it for a few seconds, "a kitten"

growing up, you couldn't afford to have a cat in your house due to the violence. there was no way that such a fragile little animal would've been safe in that enviornment. but you had always loved kittys.

he hums as you turn to look at his face, intertwining your hands together, "that's cute, we can name her cheonsa, you know what that means?"

you shake your head lightly, mouthing a 'what?'

"something that reminds me of you, i won't tell you"

the room is filled with comfortable silence for a few minutes while you listen to him breathe, "we should go back to milan, no business" “then we’ll go back to milan,” he whispers against your skin. “and we’ll come back home to a kitten. do you want that?”

🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd , @1-in-abillion , @ahgasegotarmy116 , @copycat-namjesus , @malkaimoon , @geminiml95 , @taiwan0618 , @jungkookfics , @rrosiitas , @stuti2904 , @spiderlilyserendipity , @m00njinnie , @ririkookiemonster , @emptynessclub

[oblique-lane]

idk if youve done it yet but i would actually lose my mind if you did an analysis for demo

Aye aye captain 🫡 Time to overdramatize again!

Let's address Demo's wounds

(Demo's backstory was changed through the years but I'm sticking to the older version because I find it more grounded)

Demoman's story is easily one of the most tragic of all the mercs. Imagine you have been abandoned from birth, your parents simply rejected you for what you are. But luckily you have been adopted by some good people who replaced your parents and made you a relatively happy child.

And then you accidentally kill them. You're 6 years old. How does that feel?

I can't even imagine how a child's brain can't comprehend the idea of being a murderer. It was an accident, of course, they were blown up by a big explosion he created (genius kid found out how to do that, huh?) but still. His parents were dead and he knew it was his own fault. He learned he was dangerous as he is.

How was it like pondering about it in the orphanage?.. "I didn't want this! I want to go back and fix it, I'm so sorry", something like that. But he couldn't go back in time, so being covered in such an avalanche of guilt, he learned he needs to repress himself.

Demo have always had an explosive temper (no pun intended), it was his true nature, pure emotion: if he's happy, it's 100%; if he's angry, it's a full blown storm. If he loves, he loves with all of his heart, and he has a big one.

Living on the impulse, all or nothing, that crucial accident revealed that letting his true nature go will only end up as destruction in the end. Irreparable damage.

We don't know what exactly was happening to him during his orphanage years, but if I'm to guess, repressing everything about him: his interests, his character, his whole nature, was a thing to choose. He thought that he had to become still and quiet as to not to repeat that kind of tragedy ever again. He probably didn't have people to be friends with either, either because people rejected him for his past, or he avoided them himself due to his internalized shame, at least that's a guess.

But everything repressed returns to the surface sooner or later. As a child, living for so long under overwhelming guilt, grief, hate, pain and sadness, under the skies that are almost never sunny in a all-year-long damp and coldness of the Ullapool. Incomprehensibly grey. It was depriving.

He was always fascinated with explosions. He didn't touch it for a long time, but maybe something like seeing fireworks again one day made something inside him tremble... And to remember.

Explosions. Launch... Acceleration... Release. And every time the release happens, his soul fills with excitement, the body feels lighter and shivers go up the spine. Release happens inside his head too, for the explosions make his worries and pain go away for a moment.

He couldn't find another way to release his bottled up emotions, so gradually he returned to make explosives again.

It was something like an addiction. Similar to pyromania, except no one bothered to research this one. At the moment of explosion he could let his anger out, he could scream, he could run around freely, he could sense heat in his chest; he could be himself. As he once was.

Everything was cold. But the explosions were hot.

He thought it was under control, just a little bit of KABOOM after school, but he craved more and more every time, more vivid, more violent...

That's how he lost his eye. (...Was it a subconscious act of selfharm?)

The missing eye was a forever reminder of how deviated he actually was. He learned that he couldn't repress or change what he truly is - a monster. A Black Scottish Cyclops, wether it were his peers who called him like that or he himself, out of misery. There was indeed something seriously wrong with him.

It seemed like the only thing he was capable of is destruction. Destruction is the only environment he's comfortable with. Peace was always so anxious and depriving, and breaking things felt calming, so he figured it must be right.

And then his birth mother came and took him back, "now that's he's a worthy DeGroot". It was unexpected but... Pleasant. So he wasn't THAT worthless after all, huh? Turns out, it was really familial, the destruction thing. At least he found out that there was a reason behind all of this.

His new mom was, saying honestly, pretty cruel with words. She was not at all gentle, she was very strict, demanding and straight up abusive. It was never enough for her no matter what Demo did. She didn't want results from his work, she's just always wanted to mess with his brain.

And for whatever reason... This setup felt right for him. To be thrown around like that, to be humiliated harshly, it felt fitting, it wasn't causing anxiety or anything. He has to be a scapegoat, he had to forget about being a child and to start working as an adult, at the same time somehow replacing a father he still didn't have, but it felt good enough. Confusing relationships felt good enough.

Destruction was his habitat, and his heart could no longer accept anything else.

Cruelty wasn't warm though, just familiar, just an environment to not to go insane. But he craved warmness so badly... Yet every time he would get close to someone and receive a little gentleness and care, it would feel sickening. It felt unnatural, it reminded him of his lost parents and of everything that's wrong about him.

The only warmness his body could accept was alcohol, making him bubbly and comfortable and relaxed. He almost felt normal, happy even. Alcohol heat made him melt, and he felt so fulfilled as if he was in paradise, back to the womb.

Yet after the effect wears off, he feels lonely as ever. Quickly, existing without alcohol becomes pain. Existing at all. He became an addict.

Not that everyone he met rejected him, rather, he subconsciously reached out to those who would be cruel to him. Again, gentleness hurts wether he knows it or not. He's only good in destruction.

Lonely and clingy, ready to overshare, overall mess yet carrying a big baggage of love that has no one to give it to. Maybe because he can't give it to himself in the first place. There's so many issues unresolved because he can't handle them alone, yet there's no one to help since he was already trapped in a closed circuit of self sabotage.

He will keep acting like a party beast, always crazily emotional and overdone upbeat, a simple drunken man who will not be taken seriously that way. Maybe that's what he wanted, to not be seen as deep by anyone for not be reminded of his misery once again.

Seems like we bought that too.

...

The enemy Soldier might be an exception though. The man he really treasures his friendship with turned out to be an enemy; repeating the rule again: it's only acceptable when dangerous. Soldier deeply cares for Demo, however he's not gentle or pitying, he's as destructive and explosive as Demo is, and these two are a very rare perfect combination of destructing each other in the act of love. Both broken beyond repair, soul on soul, forever to be misunderstood by the outsiders. This is something about this relationship that looks like a golden lining.

They will not fix each other, but they sure are going to have a good time!

[linkspooky]

YUTA WAS ALWAYS SELFISH

I was originally going to make this post the week the big twist with Yuta in Gojo's body happened, because of the massive subversion that it was. It was the kind of twist that made you question if everything you ever knew about the character was wrong. Namely, Yuta one of the most empathic sorcerers we see in the series - the character who seems to lack the selfishness of the other sorcerers that make up jujutsu society. The kid who fights with the literal power of love.

Was Yuta a monster to begin with and we just didn't see?

So ignore the clickbaity tagline, Yuta is one of my favorite characters I'm not going to start calling him a terrible person. Rather that Yuta is dismissed as a soft kid or a wifeguy, when he's actually more cunning and cutthroat than anyone gives him credit for.

If a sorcerer is nothing more than a con-artist, then if the talent for trickery he displayed in the Sukuna fight is anything to go by Yuta is a true sorcerer down to his bones. Yuta turning Gojo's body into a puppet seems like a massive twist, and almost out of character for Yuta who was so devoted to Gojo.

His earlier fight in the culling game even seemed to hint that Yuta was too soft and he didn't truly have the attitude to fight someone like Ryomen Sukuna who was the embodiment of a calamity.

These panels seemed like a prophecy that Yuta was doomed to fall short against Sukuna. That he could never live up to his title as the next Satoru Gojo, because unlike Gojo and Sukuna who can stand on the top alone Yuta clings to his loved ones.

Sukuna got to where he is by rejecting love. Sukuna is Sukuna because he's never needed anyone to satisfy him. So how can Yuta who needs to be surrounded by his loved ones at all time to validate him and tell him it's okay for him to be alive even compete?

However, even in JJK zero Yuta's love is questioned on whether or not it's as selfless and "pure" as it seems. To begin with, Maki calls him out early on for attracting bullies by playing the victim a lot. He pretends to be a good and innocent person put upon by his circumstances and bullies when really he doesn't want to help himself. Instead of standing up to the bullies he's always let Rika protect him and then condemned her for being a monster. He's let Rika take the blame for all the destruction, even though Rika is HIS cursed technique, created by HIS emotions, and is protecting him.

Yuta doesn't make any attempt to try to learn to control Rika, or even work with her, he just shrivels away in fear.

"You act like a good person, but it feels fake..." Yuta has always adopted the facade of a good person. He seems soft, socially anxious and withdrawn, even after he gains confidence as a sorcerer those traits don't go away because they're a part of his outward persona. Jung divides the psyche into two parts, the persona a mask that faces the world the parts of yourself that come out in your social interaction with people and then there's the shadow your repressed personality.

Yuta's shadow is a literal monster that declares her love for him and then expresses that love by violently destroying everything around him.

Yes, Rika initially contained the soul of someone else but Rika the curse was created by his technique, her power corresponds to his emotions, she comes from his shadow, and even after the real Rika passes on the Shikigami RIKA still remains completely under Yuta's control. Rika is Yuta, the embodiment of his twisted definition of love that would curse his loved ones to keep them by his side forever because he can't live without them. All of Rika's insane possessiveness? That's Yuta's too. Rika's violent overprotectiveness? That's Yuta.

How poetic is it really that Yuta and Rika are so codependent that Yuta's shadow, the other half of his personality is literally RIKA. Yuta cannot exist without love, and without someone too love, he's so terrified of being alone that he cursed Rika and then turned her corpse into a puppet after death. He uses his loved one as a weapon to fight his enemies.

If you think about it for more than five minutes Yuta's cursed technique and Rika has some seriously messed up implications, but it's hard too because as messed up as Yuta's love is it's still genuine.

Love is a curse, but in 236 Nanami speculates that sometimes curses can save people too, just like how Jujutsu Sorcerers use curses to fight and protect others.

So Yuta's love is a screaming, raging, overprotective monster, but it's also what give shim the motivation to fight ofr others. Yuta's love is a curse, but curses can save people too.

Yuta on the other hand isn't aware of his own darker nature most of the time.

The big twist in Jujutsu kaisen Zero is that just as Maki accused him of from the beginning, Yuta was playing the victim all along. He acted like Rika cursed him with her dying breath, but Yuta was the one who cursed her because he couldn't bear to live without her.

However, even this apology is a bit telling of Yuta's self-centered nature. He immediately turns everything into his fault and starts beating himself up over it. He doesn't look at anyone else's perspectives or that other people had a role to play. He deliberately ignores Rika's feelings on the past few years, which Rika is quick to point out for him.

This scene has a parallel later where Yuta ultimately, only thinks about himself first and foremost. In spite of wanting so badly to be surrounded by his loved ones, it's more about him loving them, and less about their feelings for him.

After all he's completely willing to commit a double suicide with Rika to protect his friends, ignoring the fact Rika doesn't want him to pass on just yet, and Maki, Inumaki and Panda wouldn't want him to disappear either. This scene has a direct parallel a year later in the fight against Sukuna when Yuta gives up his body.

Maki almost breaks character from her usual culling game arcs stoicity to fight and argue with Yuta to stop him form doing this, and Rika who one year earlier told Yuta to live a long life so she wouldn't have to see him on the other side so soon is reduced to screaming and sobbing while holding his dead body.

Yuta loves people, or at least he feels an intense amount of love for people, but he can be as self-centered as the other sorcerers we see in the story. Geto even points this out right away, that Yuta is selfish, that he's seeking self-affirmation first and foremost. He needs other people's approval, their love, to feel like he deserves to exist. He'll do anything to earn that love, and once he has it he'll do anything to protect it but it's ultimately for himself.

It manifests in Yuta's technique itself copy, which first and foremost requires Yuta to consume parts of his loved ones that can never be healed if he wants to keep their copied technique. Yuta gets stronger by literally eating his loved ones. We have canon confirmation that Yuta fed part of Inumaki's severed arm to Rika.

Yuta's cursed technique is to emulate the strengths of all of his loved ones copying them and making them a part of his oqn technique, because Yuta will take any shape and form in order to be loved. It's also the perfect technique for fighting as a part of a group, because someone like Sukuna will naturally assume that Yuta's technique STEALS instead of COPYING so he'll forget that the original still retains their technique.

Yuta's not only selfish and has a very selfish, overprotective love for others, but it's those exact qualities that make him an effective sorcerer strong in the area that Gojo is the weakest. Group coordination.

Gojo is in his element when he's alone, but Yuta is so codependent that he literally cannot exist unless other people are looking at him. His strength comes from the things he copies and takes from his friend, and he turned his loved one into a puppet to fight others. Is it really that surprising that this kid would willingly use Gojo's body as a weapon after death when that's literally what he did to Rika.

How telling is it that like Yuta learned that Rika was cursed by him, went so far to exorcise her spirit, and then after finally letting go after her spirit passed on he made a second Shikigami named Rika a few months later made out of the small remnants of cursed energy that Rika left behind as a gift after passing on. The dude is not over Rika, he's like, Geto and Gojo levels of not over Rika.

Yuta's cursed technique being the literal weaponization of his love and his loved ones makes him the best character for group coordination in the entire series. Yuta even adopts apsects of hakari's persona when making his plans against Sukuna since he decides to gamble at several key points in the plan.

Several of the key moments in the fight are all Yuta's plans, with some collaboration from Angel. He makes several bets too like Hakari would. The first being going to finish Kenjaku by himself and using both Todo and Takaba in conjunction to trick him. The second is the bet that he'd be able to make it back in time to rejoin the fight in case Higuruma's plan fail.

It was Yuta who let his own domain barrier down on purpose to let Sukuna think he had the victory so he would let his guard down and make it easy for Maki to ambush him. Something that also required perfect coordination between Yuta and Maki working in tandem with one another.

Yuta set up Hana to do one large jacob's ladder when Sukuna least expected it because he knew Sukuna would forget that his technique is COPY and not steal. He also made the biggest bluff which was leading Sukuna to believe that he fed Rika his last finger.

These aren't just good bluffs, they require near perfect coordination with your allies and taking several chances on them. Nobara might not have even woken up so the last finger / resonance Gambit was perhaps the biggest gamble. Maki and Yuta had to coordinate with each other well so Maki would be there when Yuta dropped the barrier. Yuta needed Takaba a relatively new and inexperienced sorcerer to survive against the threat that was Kenjaku, and he needed all of his allies to stay alive while he was prioritizing Kenjaku.

These are all plans Satoru Gojo would never have been able to pull off, because Gojo only ever relies on himself. If Yuta and Hakari had intervened in the Gojo and Sukuna fight then he would not have been able to go all out, whereas Yuta REQUIRES people collaborating with him in order TO GO ALL OUT.

This is Yuta. This is his strength. Yuta is nothing without love, so he takes on the forms of the people he loves and takes things from the people he loves in order to gain the power to protect him. Yuta copies everything from the people he loves, so is it really that much of a surprise that he'd become a monster just like Gojo.

In some ways, Geto and Yuuta were the same. Geto was too sincere. To someone like him, the reality that the world of sorcerers presented to him was just too cruel. ’…that in a world like this, I couldn’t be truly happy from the bottom of my heart.’ To live for the purpose of being yourself. And for that goal, Geto could only continue to pursue his twisted dream, drowning himself in the curse that lies in the gap between ideal and reality.

Love is a weapon for Yuta. Just like his curse technique can take any form, so does Yuta's love, and so does Yuta himself. Love always wins, and in order to do so Yuta will take any shape necessary, no matter how twisted.

Love is the worst curse of them all, and Yuta will become the worst monster of them all if it means protecting his love ones.

[petit-etoile]

in the moonlight (my darling, do not fear)

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 4184 content warnings: mentions of injuries, no in-depth descriptions, minor spoilers for astarion's act ii romance other tags: canon-typical violence, canon complaint, hurt/comfort, whump, developing relationship, love confessions, gender neutral tav, elf!tav archiveofourown: here. sentence prompt: "you're like a sickness, a disease, and the only way for me to be cured of you is to let you completely consume me until my body has no fight left." — from here. summary: defeating the orthon is no small task. the hardest part is what comes after.

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‘No!’ he shouts, and it’s so loud it echoes on the edges of your mind. ‘You can’t die.’

I’m not dying, you think but the words never leave your lips. In the depths of your consciousness, you can faintly remember the battle with the Orthon. Karlach had killed the displacer beast, hadn’t she? Shadowheart had blinded the Merregon… You remember violent flashes of light and the shaking of the Gauntlet. Trying to remember takes too much energy, and thinking about opening your eyes makes your stomach roll.

‘Get up, damn you!’ Astarion snaps harshly.

He paws at your desperately, shifting rock and ruin, and when he presses his hands to your side, stars flutter behind your eyelids so violently all you can do is moan. It’s your turn to shove at him. You push at his hands and feel your fingers glide against his skin. But I’m too tired, you want to say. I just want to sleep, to dream. Eventually, you give up your fight and relax into the darkness. Maybe when you awaken, the illithid parasite will be gone and you will be cured. You can only hope that it comes true.

Astarion has other plans for you. He curses your name so sweet it could be a perfectly mulled wine and leans forward. His ear tickles your lips, and whatever he hears come from it is enough to make him heave out a relieved sob. His hands are on your face again. His fingers are sticky, and they smell like powder. He jostles you so violently that you groan against your will, but it doesn’t seem to matter much to him.

Astarion rests his head against your chest right where your broken collarbone has begun to throb. You struggle to open your eyes and stare at the roof above you, but you don’t see the familiar ceiling of Shar’s Temple. The celestial glowing swirls have been blocked from sight by ugly granite floors. If you really put your mind to it, you can recognize Karlach’s desperate cries on the other side.

‘What happened?’ you whisper.

‘You were supposed to jump down!’ Astarion snarls. ‘Gods, why didn’t you jump down!’

The panic in his voice is enough to make you try harder to retrace your memories. You had plunged your blade into Yurgir’s chest but couldn’t manage to pull it out. It hadn’t killed him. Yurgir had laughed at you, had laughed at your friends  —  He had never hated anyone more at that moment.

It had taken the blade you kept on your hip to finally kill Yurgir. He had dropped bombs, you recall. It comes back to you easily now. Astarion had been right behind you and was going to follow you down, but you were so wounded he insisted on helping you jump away from the bombs before they exploded. But you hated heights, you hated the feeling of falling.

‘Scared,’ you admit.

‘Ha! Scared!’ Astarion repeats, tone pitching up in his hysteria. ‘Karlach was going to catch you!’

‘I couldn’t,’ you say. ‘I was scared. I couldn’t jump, I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry, Astarion.’

A shaky sob escapes his lips. ‘Don’t be sorry, my love,’ he whispers. ‘Don’t close your eyes again.’

A shudder of exhaustion runs throughout your body. You want to ask questions. You can feel them on the tip of your tongue, but moving your jaw is more work than you’re currently cut out for. Without craning your neck, you try to assess the damage.

The displacer beast’s claws had torn your sleeve. You remember how its teeth snapped shut close to your face, and how now matter how hard you tried to push it away, its thick neck kept you from escaping. Shadowheart had distracted it with a clone. Desperation had pushed you to follow Karlach up the steps so that you could fight the Orthon. For Raphael’s contract. For Astarion.

You do as you were commanded. You stare at the shaking, makeshift rooftop and blink dust from your eyes as it filters down like mocking snow. Astarion’s head feels particularly heavy at this moment. With a sudden, horrified realization, you fully come to terms with the situation you’ve found yourself in.

You are lying in a puddle of your own blood and too broken to move. Half of the floor you were standing on has fallen beneath you and blocked you from your allies, and the only one at your side is Astarion. It must be like death itself to sit there surrounded by blood while injured. He could heal himself if he drank. You raise your good hand and place it against his white-silver curls.

‘I know I usually offer first,’ you say sheepishly. ‘But if you need a drink  —  ’

‘Have you lost your gods-damned mind?’ Astarion hisses.

Before you can say anything else, he sits up and leans over you. You are easily distracted by his beautiful, marble-like complexion which is marred by the dirt and dust and blood. He’s beautiful.

Astarion’s cerise eyes are frantic. ‘I do not mean to alarm you, but you are dying.’

Like the ceiling’s fate above them, the reality of the situation comes crashing miserably down on top of you. Shadowheart’s spells cannot penetrate the wall that has come between you. You realize it now. You press your hand against the hole in your side delicately and laugh a little, staring at your fingers coated with blood. You close your eyes, but Astarion’s distressed whine has you search frantically for his face.

‘I’m sorry,’ you whisper, horrified. ‘I’m sorry. I’m  —  Do not hate me.’

‘Please,’ Astarion begs. ‘Just stay awake. Stay with me. Karlach is trying to get through; All you have to do is stay awake, please.’

You search his face for some hint of comfort, but it’s hard to see through the dark spots knotting in your vision. You do your best to push away the panic, to force the tears back into your eyes. You don’t want to die, not yet. Raphael still has to translate the runes on Astarion’s back. Shadowheart wants to finish the gauntlet. You want to save Karlach’s heart, to absolve Wyll’s pact, to save Gale. Selfishly, you want to kiss Astarion again without any of that which comes after. You want to savor the weight of his mouth against yours.

‘I’m sorry,’ you tell him again. You swallow harshly. ‘This must be like torture for you.’

Astarion chuckles hoarsely. ‘While you are very tantalizing, this is…nothing compared to two hundred years.’

You smile faintly. Two hundred years of carrion, and now you are laid out in front of him as delicious and forbidden as the feast Raphael offered you once. He ducks out of your view to lay his head on your chest. Though he tries to hide it, you can feel the little shudders of his sobs.

I’m sorry, you think to the ceiling. The weight of Astarion’s head against your shoulder is agonizing to your broken collarbone, but whatever he is doing, he is doing it with such reverence it reminds you of the religious devout and their steadfast adherence to their god.

He burrows his face into your chest, careful to stay small over you, to be mindful of your condition. He tries to balance his breathing so that it’s quieter and less disruptive, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot quell the frightened way his shoulders jump. You close your eyes for a moment just to memorize the sight of it.

‘No,’ he says suddenly, sitting up. ‘You promised. You cannot die, I forbid it. You said you would protect me, and you cannot do that if you are  —  Speak to me, damn you!’

‘’m awake,’ you say tiredly. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

‘You cannot,’ Astarion insists.

‘Next time,’ you say, ‘I will jump.’

Astarion shakes his head, and little drops of his tears rain down on your skin. ‘It isn’t the smell of you that makes it hard,’ he confesses brokenly. ‘It isn’t even about the damned Infernal runes. It’s you, everything about you. What is left for a disease like me when someone like you goes away?’

‘You will lead them,’ you tell him.

Astarion’s nose wrinkles at the idea. ‘I am not particularly interested in being the face of a revolution,’ he says. ‘No matter how beautiful I am. I am still a sickness, a beast. You are the only one good enough to lead us.’

‘You are like a sickness, then. A horrible disease,’ you say, mindful of the way his eyes narrow. ‘The only way for me to be cured of you  —  to be the cure for you, is to let you consume me until my body has no fight left, Astarion.’

‘How dare you,’ he says with a coquettish shrug.

You can hear Karlach slowly working through the rest of the rubble now. You hate to feel too hopeful, but you can almost hear the sound of the shattered floor breaking free. They were coming to save you, to save him.

‘That was rather poetic, you know,’ Astarion tells you. He watches your face intently as if afraid he’ll miss out on something exceptional. ‘You’ve never been one to use such gorgeous words.’

‘I wanted to,’ you say softly. ‘For you, my love.’

Astarion’s eyes widen as those words fall seamlessly from your lips. You aren’t sure if he meant to say them earlier. After all, he’s only ever been fond of calling you darling or a delectable little treat, treating you recklessly with careful honeyed words. As if getting any closer to you might coax him into accidental oblivion where your name might leave his lips thus solidifying you as something to be treated with care. A pomegranate seed between his teeth.

The shock doesn’t stay for long. Your eyelashes flutter though you fight against it. The decaying darkness around your vision has almost reached the center. You cry faintly and press a hand against your side, horrified that your blood is still pouring from you even if it is slower now. Perhaps you are running out of blood. You want to tell Astarion to drink it all up before it’s mixed with the sulfur and ash, but words are hard to form. Your heart skips a beat.

Don’t let me go to waste, you beg helplessly, reaching out to his mind when yours is all but gone. A heart-wrenching sob erupts from his chest. When you next awake, there is relatively less action than what was happening before. There are no violent tremors of a floor threatening to collapse. The sound of frantic shoving is absent. There’s only a dim hum in your ears, and the sound of a hushed fire burning well into the evening. You slowly open your eyes and blink away your sleepiness.

Shadowheart’s healing spell still hovers over you, but she’s not in your tent so she must be concentrating somewhere else. Your collarbone still smarts and you can definitely feel every single bruise you’ve ever received in your life, but you feel stronger, fuller. You reach a hand as if to inspect the wound at your side again and find the skin there is closed now.

‘You’re awake,’ Astarion says softly. ‘Thank the gods.’

You sit up quickly and feel the world turn sideways for it. Lightning dances along the back of your eyes as you try to steady yourself, and Astarion reaches out to ground you as you sway back and forth. You wonder just how long he’s been sitting there in your tent waiting for you. Your head throbs faintly once you manage to open your eyes.

‘Thank the gods,’ you echo breathlessly. ‘You brought me back?’

Astarion grimaces as though embarrassed. ‘I wasn’t the one who carried you back to camp, no,’ he says almost petulantly. ‘You’ll have to thank Karlach for that. But I have sat here since then, I must admit.’

‘Everyone  —  ’

‘Everyone else is fine,’ Astarion interrupts. ‘Halsin aided Shadowheart in your healing. Gale procured herbs, Wyll kept vigil at camp while you slumbered. It was all very twee. You’ll be sad you missed it.’

Astarion raises his chin much like a cat who desires petting. He would never admit it, but you can see it on his face. He’s relieved. If he were anyone else, he might weep for joy at seeing you awake again. It isn’t who he is, so you settle for knowing that he has not left your side since you escaped the Gauntlet.

You sit up further and wave your hand through Shadowheart’s healing spell. It doesn’t disperse as much as you wish, but you ignore it, crawling across your lumpy bedroll so you can wrap your arms slowly around Astarion’s neck. He freezes beneath your touch and begins sputtering, but then you feel his arms wrap around your waist. He burrows his face in the side of your neck.

‘I’m sorry for scaring you,’ you mumble against his ear.

You hear him swallow. ‘I’m not apologizing for yelling at you, if that’s what you want.’

‘I would never ask you to,’ you insist.

Before, you thought it would be a small hug. Something to show your thanks to him. You loosen your arms around him so that he can pull away, but if anything, Astarion drags you closer to him. He hides his face in the spot beneath your ear and inhales deeply, memorizing your healthy scent intently.

The hug lasts longer than you thought it would. It’s almost as healing as the magic, too. You hold Astarion as close to you as he will allow, rubbing circles and tracing his curls at the nape of his neck as if to promise that you will never leave again. You decide to sniff him tentatively as well, and beneath the dirt and ash from the collapse, he still smells like Astarion.

You startle a little when you feel his hand tuck beneath your shirt, his fingers reaching to touch a hint of your bare skin. Someone was kind enough to drag the heavier armor from you, but you still have your bloodied shirt on. Astarion’s cool touch is welcome against your aching spine.

‘I thought,’ he says slowly, ‘that you had sentenced me to a lifetime of loneliness again when you were felled earlier. At first, I was so angry that I thought I might hate you for your mistake. I wanted to kill you myself once the dust had settled.’

‘Astarion  —  ’ you start to say, hopeless apologies on your tongue.

‘You will let me finish,’ Astarion says harshly, though he nuzzles you. ‘Elves reincarnate, but how long does it take? How many years would I be forced to wait before I caught the scent of you on the wind?’

You’re freed from his grasp, but you aren’t allowed to escape far. You both kneel in your tent, one of his hands on the back of your head, the other at the side of your waist where your skin had been ripped open before. Astarion allows you to see him for who he truly is. His eyes are soft, weak when he stares deep into your eyes like he’s afraid he’ll forget you.

‘You have made this sinner a worshiper, though it’s no gods I am on my knees for,’ Astarion says to you. ‘The only hymn I care to rehearse is your heartbeat. The only prayer is your name. I begged the gods for years that they would save me, but you are the only divine who has answered my call.’

Your breath catches in your throat.

Astarion presses his hip into yours. ‘I wanted to wait to tell you,’ he says with a miserable shake of his head. ‘To think more.’

‘You still can  —  ’

‘I cannot,’ he admits. ‘When I close my eyes, all I see is your body beneath mine with your life’s blood spilling from you. You begged me to devour you.’

‘I wanted you to be strong,’ you admit. ‘Before, you told me you were only allowed to dine on creatures who couldn’t think. Who knows how long your strength would have lasted…’

His eyes seem to contain infinite sadness. You try to be intent with your words, but you’re distracted by the way he releases his head to palm your chest, pushing his fingers so forcefully skin it’s as though he’s determined to dig through your flesh to grip your heart in his hand. You’d allow him if he asked.

‘You are so self-sacrificing it’s insulting,’ Astarion snorts. ‘Do you think I would have continued in this realm without you? Never have I felt so selfishly about someone before.’

Carefully, almost as if he’s never done it before, Astarion leans forward and presses his lips against yours gently. All you can think about is his overwhelming devotion even as you respond to the kiss, melting against the touch. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this.

And you do miss it. You hate being in the Shadow-Cursed Lands more than you hate the lift in the mountains. Everything is dark and dreary and dead, and your companions are prone to being even more distant and distressed than they were before. You feel as though you are of little hope.

But Astarion kisses you now like a man who is breathing air for the first time. His mouth is hungry and insistent, and his hands cling to your skin more than he’s ever clung to you before. It causes you to blush. It’s unlike him to show such desperation. He’s willing, open, honest  —  yet this kiss is so different from the ones you experienced before. It’s almost chaste. He kisses you like a knight would kiss his charge.

‘But I want this,’ he whispers, breath ragged against your cheek. ‘I want you.’

‘Astarion,’ you murmur. That's all you can say.

He presses his nose against your jaw. ‘Whatever my intentions were before, to the hells with them,’ he says harshly. ‘I want us to be something real, something true if you’ll have me. It’s what you deserve.’

‘I do,’ you confess, almost embarrassed. ‘You must’ve known how silly I felt pestering you. You were the first person I sought out when I returned to camp.’

‘You did have a rather obvious air of desperation about you,’ Astarion says with a small laugh.

‘But I wanted you to come to me of your own accord,’ you continue. You touch the edge of his collar. ‘I lacked confidence. I did not want to force you into something knowing your history.’

He kisses you again. This time, it is a little less chaste. Astarion is determined to devour you, mind, body, and soul. His hands wander as though they’ve never felt your body before, and there’s something anguished about the way he returns to cradling the back of your neck. Your mouth is nothing but a scripture he is determined to practice.

You feel drunk with exhaustion. Having been settled between death and undeath for so long has left you feeling as though there is nothing in your sinew, and Astarion is making matters worse. Your head is filled with nothing but him and his unpredictable mercy. You cling to his shirt and struggle.

What have you done to deserve such boundless devotion? You have listened to, and pleaded with, every emotion he has given you. You’ve taken and given and created anew. Now Astarion becomes. Everything you have given him evolves to become this. When he is finally finished memorizing your mouth, he pulls away and confronts you with barely concealed hunger.

‘Say it,’ he begs desperately. ‘Say you want me too.’

‘I want you,’ you say. ‘Gods, you must know this. There’s nothing I want more.’

‘I wanted to manipulate you,’ he says, horrified. He hides in the crook of your jaw. ‘I wanted to use you as a shield, someone to stand behind.’

‘I am not a very big shield,’ you say.

He doesn’t laugh. ‘I was going to do what I had done before,’ he says. ‘Use your emotions for me as a weapon, but  —  I never want to see you near another weapon for as long as we live. Do you understand?’

You press a kiss to his hair. ‘Shall I stand behind you now?’

Astarion does laugh at that. He faces you fully now, hands cupping your cheeks. ‘You may as well be regulated to nothing but camp duty. You find a place for us to rest, you sew our clothes up when they come back with holes in them. I’d say you could make dinner, but…’

You brush a lock of his silver hair away from his eyes and run your thumbs against the swelling. He’s just as exhausted as you are even if he has yet to admit it. The building’s collapse has left him equally as tired. You encourage him to lay down with you, and he does, curling at your side with his head on your chest.

‘Will you be our fearsome party leader?’ you ask. You close your eyes and try to imagine it.

‘Oh yes,’ he swears solemnly for your sake. ‘I will hold the map and point us in the correct direction. Hopefully my leadership will lead us away from Shadow-Cursed things and back to the streets of Baldur’s Gate. I am so ferocious that whoever controls these parasites will give up upon seeing my muscles.’

You try to imagine your life without the tadpole. It seems relatively empty without Shadowheart and Lae’zel’s bickering, and you would miss the way Halsin and Gale are prone to rambling on about whatever is holding their interest at the time. You’d miss Karlach and her boundless enthusiasm for dancing. You’d miss Wyll, too. You’d miss the way he always watches your back.

Would you have met them in Baldur’s Gate? Would Astarion have picked up your scent and chased you down an alleyway intent on drinking your blood? He would be as he was before, angry and cruel and distant. For a moment, you’re almost grateful that the mindflayers had kidnapped you that morning. The circumstances surrounding it were dire, and you hated the gross wiggling the worm was prone to doing when it wanted you to be authoritative, but you would miss them.

‘I don’t regret it, you know,’ you say suddenly.

‘You do not regret what, exactly?’ Astarion asks. ‘Getting blown up and nearly dying? You should.’

You snort despite your best attempts not to. You press your palms against your eyes and try to keep from laughing too hard. For what it’s worth, Astarion does let out a small chuckle. You can hear his frown.

‘Aye,’ you relent. ‘I suppose I do regret nearly dying and. I don’t regret what came before it. If Raphael asked me to strike down all of the gods so that he would translate your back, I would do it without asking a question. You deserve to know.’

‘I cannot overstate how…appreciative I am of that,’ Astarion says finally. ‘But, just so you know, I would do the same for you without question. I have most of the time. I trust at least a third of your decisions.’

‘All of the decisions I make,’ you begin.

But Astarion interrupts, ‘I am sure you make them with everyone’s best interest in mind. Sometimes it works out. Sometimes you end up blown to bits.’

‘I do not regret letting you feed from me,’ you say, pretending he never opened his mouth. ‘I do not regret the silly way I fell into your honeyed words. I do not regret killing the Orthon. I do not regret you.’

‘We’ve barely just begun.’

You swallow. ‘And I will see it through until the end of time,’ you say. You’re fully aware that it’s too soon to make sweeping grand declarations of love, but you can’t stop yourself from saying. ‘You will never be alone again.’

You take Astarion’s silence in stride. You want him to know that he isn’t the only one capable of saying disgustingly romantic things. In the wake of your unconsciousness, you feel a rush of things you haven’t felt in quite some time. Life felt dreary in the mountains and worse in the Underdark. You hate when your world feels as though it’s crushing you. Now, even in the dark, it’s as if the sun shines on your face.

‘I love you,’ you say.

‘Say it again.’

‘I love you,’ you repeat, this time with more meaning. You try to roll onto your side, but your shoulder fusses too much. ‘I want you, and I want this. Forever.’

‘Forever,’ Astarion repeats, a sense of wonder entering his voice as he toys with the taste of it on his tongue. Once again, he sits above you, his head pressed against your chest, shaking as he listens to the sound of your heartbeat beneath your skin. ‘I like the sound of that.’ You smile at the sound of a purr in his voice, and allow yourself to imagine what forever means.