#its my defensive mechanism ;u;

[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

Perspectives

marshmallow floof plot: Megumi recalls you and Gojo falling in love through his eyes. content: fem! reader, megumi is in denial about caring about Gojo, Gojo is obsesseddddd with you shamelessly, but its okay because so are you with him! warning!: megumi is not good with emotions :/ or tolerating Gojo word count: 5.7k satoru gojo x reader note: can we pretend utahime and gojo are the same age pls and thank u - also i am delusional and in my head suguru did not defect so gojo never had to go thru all of that okay <3333 anywau i hope you enjoy!! put a lot of thought and love into this!

At only six years old, Megumi was already quite intelligent. As an extremely perceptive child, he understood far more than he should have at such an age. Typically, kids his age were naive and gullible; Megumi however was the complete opposite, and that was partially due to his aloofness.

When Satoru Gojo first met Megumi, he felt like he was talking to a grandpa in a miniature body, sassing anyone who dare interact with his little self. As stern and as gloomy as the boy persisted on to be, though, Gojo picked up on hints of tenderness and compassion laced between every word Megumi spoke about his sister, Tsumiki. Easily, Gojo could discern what he deemed too much deeply rooted pain and defensiveness in the young Fushiguro. Having his guard up was engraved into his mind; the wall he placed between him and the world had it's own sector in his immune system and acted with automaticity, an innate defense mechanism.

Despite all of the anguish intertwined in every breath Megumi exhaled, and despite his cold nature he employed to protect himself from being hurt again as he has before; despite being abandoned, and despite not being surprised he was; despite not even hitting double digits, yet already carrying the attitude of a the wisest owl; despite all of the thoughts racing through Gojo's head, he knew Megumi was special. Though a part of it may have been due to the responsibility he felt over the boy after murdering his father, Satoru Gojo was confident in one thing: he would take care of this kid like his life depended on it.

From then on, Gojo took the role of Megumi's benefactor, funding him and his sister so that they could live without worry. Megumi begrudgingly allowed him to endow his life, though it was rather difficult. The guy was so over-the-top and bothersome when he decided to actually go and physically check up him. Visits from were sparse, though, if Megumi really cared or needed anything, Gojo was always a text away.

And soon he would learn that you were, too.

The first time your existence was brought to Fushiguru's attention, it was mildly unintentional on Gojo's end. He was completing his routine check-in on Megumi about six months after taking him under his wing, ensuring he was doing fine in school - other than the fights he found himself in every now and again, of course. And after everything checked out okay, he rambled on about his week and how exhausting it was being the strongest, greatest individual to exist in this time and how much Yaga has been up his ass since he was promoted to principal and blah blah blah...

"Can you believe he was expecting me to get to the school before nine A.M.? Hah! Funny man. I need my beauty sleep. How else would I always look this handso- Oh!"

Megumi, who was in no way religious, praised in that moment whatever God up above sent a call to Gojo's phone at that exact moment, for he failed to believe he could have pretended to listen to another second of his unimportant and unnecessary rant. It truly was over-the-top, and Megumi was not a fan. He had never, nor did he think he would ever, warmed up to the way Gojo's ego seems to make a nearly empty room feel claustrophobic.

"Heyyyyy!" Gojo dragged, acting like a highschool girl with the way he twirled the end of his hair and giggled at whoever was at other end of the phone. If Megumi cared to look closely enough (which he totally doesn't, since he is so disinterested in Gojo and does not dare to look at him too long or he will automatically become annoyed), a rosy hue could barely be seen on the apples of the older man's cheeks, growing more and more apparent the longer the phone call went on.

Obviously, Megumi did not want to listen to the likely boring conversation, but since he was stuck in the same room as Gojo, he had no other choice but to eavesdrop on the phone call. Or, more accurately, he was playing detective to solve the mystery of who on the other end was transforming Gojo, as childish as he is, into a tweenage boy talking to a cute girl for the first time.

"I'm with Fushiguru, actually," Megumi overheard, his interest only minutely piqued after hearing his name. Whoever was on the other end must have known who he was already given the way Gojo did not feel the need to elaborate on who exactly Fushiguru was. That irked Megumi.

"Yeah, just hanging out, you know. I'd say we're best buds! Right, Megumi?" Gojo moved the phone away from his ear and looked at the boy across from him expectedly.

"No," is all Megumi spoke in response.

Gojo's eyes widened slightly, not expecting such a response, before he laughed and continued, "Silly guy! Such a silly guy."

The call took way too long and Megumi was half tempted to leave the room, but he was still getting used to Gojo and did not fully understand what his role was in his current situation. Was Gojo considered a houseguest? Was Megumi supposed to have something prepared as a thank you? Even if he was, he wouldn't do that for Gojo. What if something went wrong, or Gojo did something stupid? Tsumiki was at her after school club, being the natural social butterfly she was. Megumi had assumed the role of the man of the house at merely seven, and he was not going to disappoint her or let anything go haywire on his watch. This was his roof, and nothing would happen to their humble little abode under his watch.

Finally, Gojo said his goodbyes to whoever he was speaking to, set his phone down, and sighed in the most i-must-be-living-in-a-daydream-because-there-is-no-way-life-can-be-this-good-and-i-am-so-in-love-but-i-dont-even-know-it sort of way.

"You would like her," Gojo broke the silence after a few moments of savoring the butterflies in his stomach.

"Who was that?" Megumi queried, and if Gojo listened closely, he could hear echos of intense interest in the boy's simple question.

"A friend from work."

"You don't have friends."

"Hey!"

-----

After your existence was brought to light, it became a thing that whenever Gojo visited, he spent half the time on the phone - whether texting or on a phone call, it didn't matter. He was always talking to you.

Megumi supposed he should have felt grateful since Gojo finally became less unbearable. His check-ins, although hard to predict when they would be or how long in between they would reoccur, became less about how much Gojo loves himself and more about... well, you. It was a nice change from hearing his neverending egocentric comments, to be fair. Megumi was not complaining.

"You remember her, right, Megumi?" he asked while walking Megumi home from school one day. He was on a tyrant about something that had happened at Jujutsu High a few days prior before realizing he might had forgotten about the most important detail: you. The chance that Megumi may not even know who he was speaking about generated a sharp gasp escaping from Gojo's lips.

"Yes. She's all you talk about," Megumi deadpanned. What a stupid question, the boy thought to himself, when Gojo asked this every single time he bothered to show his face around here.

Gojo chuckled, responding in a voice that was way up in the clouds, as if he was skipping through a meadow abundant with good feelings and the potential for new relationships, "Hm, yeah. I guess you're right! Sorry, kid. Just had to make sure you knew."

At this point, Megumi learned a lot about you: You taught second-year sorcerers at Tokyo Jujutsu High, you went to Kyoto Jujutsu High, you were in same year as Gojo was, you were acquaintances for a while, your best friend (unfortunately so, as Gojo whined when he told Megumi) was Utahime, who was oddly protective of you and rude for no reason to Gojo (it is most definitely within reason), you were the most selfless person to walk the surface of this planet, you cared more for others than for yourself, and you and Gojo were really, really, really good friends now that you worked together and you two were close and he was friends with you and you texted him all the time and hung out too and you spent time together and you are theprettiestpersonhehadeverplacedhissixeyeson-

Basically, Megumi knew more about you than he comfortably should, and you were all Gojo seemed to talk about now.

Megumi found it sort of... endearing how much Gojo spoke about you. For someone so certain in himself and all of his glory, it was nice to hear him talk about someone else that way. He discerned an innocent intent in Gojo's actions, from the soft grin that graced his face when he rattled on about you, to the way he had begun to ask eight-year-old Megumi for advice on women (which he has surprisingly been helpful with - especially the time when Gojo didn't know if you'd prefer a specific flavor of mochi over another, and Megumi's suggestion ended up being the perfect one because it was your favorite). And though he would never, ever utter the words out loud, Megumi enjoyed hearing Gojo talk about you. It brought him down to earth and made him feel more like a mortal being; even Satoru Gojo crushed, fawning over you like you were a brand new toy and he was a toddler unwrapping gifts on Christmas Day. Even the man who had everything in the world simply wanted just like the rest of the world; he yearned for things in life that he did not ("Not yet, but surely soon!" Megumi was certain Gojo would say if he could read minds) have.

The two boys sat together at Megumi's, eating some sweets Gojo brought back from his mission. Gojo had a bouquet of flowers set delicately on the table in front of him, preparing himself to go to your house after his pep talk with Megumi and ask you on a date. Finally.

Staring at the flowers beside him, Gojo resolved to pick a flower out of the bouquet; a pretty, pale pink daisy that reminded him of the shade of your cheeks when he teased you. He rolled the green stem of the daisy back and forth between his index finger and thumb while echoing the declarations of his planned speech confessing his feelings for you. He had his heartfelt soliloquy memorized, but he was still feeling... apprehensive.

"She loves me," Gojo began, plucking a petal off of the flower and setting it delicately on the table. He spoke lowly, as if his life depended on the resolution he would find when he would extricate the last of the daisy's petals.

Megumi looked up from the book he was reading - a true crime mystery he had been quite invested in - to figure out what the man next to him was doing.

"She loves me not," Gojo plucked another petal, placing it on top of the other one he had already taken off.

Ah, Megumi understood it now. He's transforming into a child; his obsession with you had turned his brain to mush. He had now, mentally, been beat by Megumi, descending into the intellect a five year old smitten with a kindergarten crush.

"She loves me!" Gojo chirped. He plucked another petal before reporting with a glum tone, "She loves me not."

This went on and on. Megumi observed without a word and Gojo continuing the game that is so typically played on on a children's playground.

How on earth did you have such a drastic effect a man so above the rest of society? The man put on a pedestal by all of the Jujutsu world; the one who could take on any obstacle and leave without a scratch; the same guy who died and brought himself back to life; he could isolate himself from the rest of the world in an instant using only his limitless technique, yet, you always found a way to draw him back him - and somehow, somewhere in the mix, you had The Strongest Sorcerer wrapped around your finger.

"She loves me, Megumi!" Gojo proclaimed when he picked the final petal from the flower. "I mean, of course she does. Look at me."

Ah, there was the daily dose of Gojo's big ego; his head was as inflated as expected, but was on display little later than usual. Megumi referred to it as The Daily Dose of Gojo: DDG. He was bound to hear at least once a day about how much Gojo loved himself, whether through text or in person. But today, it was more like he was venturing to persuade himself on that fact, too.

Megumi then realized that this was the first time he had seen Gojo nervous.

He wondered what about you could make Gojo nervous, because not even the strongest of curses causes The Strongest Sorcerer to break into a sweat. What exactly is it that you have that grants you the title of the one human who could make Satoru Gojo nervous? He understood that you were special to him, but he still had never met you, and he is starting to want to.

He wasn't sure why he felt so protective over you. You were a twenty-year-old woman who he has never even met in person, even though he knew from Gojo the color of your eyes and the smell of the perfume you always wore. One thing was for sure, though: if Satoru Gojo messed with your heart, Megumi would fight him with all of the effort his child body could exert in one go, then kick his ass all the way to the core of the earth to be at such a heat that his infinity disfunctioned, ensuring he suffers for ever even considering toying with your feelings.

-----

"Fushiguru!" Gojo hollered as Megumi exit his elementary school.

Megumi glared at the white-haired male as he stalked toward him, untrusting of the motives at play. Gojo watched the child over the rims of his sunglasses, a toothy smile spread across his face while he waved excitedly. He had something planned, as per usual.

"What do you want?" Megumi groaned, and he eyed the two individuals in front of him with suspicion, though he already had an idea on who you were.

It was an uncommon sight for him to be picked up from school, but for Gojo to be accompanied by someone other than Ijichi was borderline shocking. There was only one person you could be, however, and Megumi suppressed the fluttering of excitement he felt as he saw you.

"Hey! Rude to speak to your elders like that," Gojo jested flippantly. "I want you two to meet!"

Fushiguru listened as Gojo repeated every syllable of your name that he has repeated a million times before. It rolled smoothly off of his lips, like caramel drizzle on the sweetest treat from his favorite bakery. It has been about two months since you, somehow willingly, agreed to a date with Gojo. It has been about a month since you agreed to officially be his girlfriend, which Yaga was not the most pleased to hear, but Gojo dealt with that and ensured the security of both of your jobs.

"Hi, Fushiguru!" You waved, a wide smile adorning your face. "Nice to meet you! Gojo talks about you all of the time."

"Hi," Megumi quietly said. He suddenly felt shy in your presence. You stood in front of him in all of your beauty, with the kindest smile on your face and the softest look in your eye, gazing at him as if he were the most important person in the world. Gojo did not do you justice when describing you to him.

And suddenly, everything Gojo ever said about you made complete sense - now, he finally understood how even the famed Satoru Gojo fell victim to the enigma that was you.

"I'm a friend of Gojo's! I wanted to meet you, and I don't know if you would want to, but I would love to get to know you," you offered. You folded your hands together in front of you and smiled politely toward the young boy. You were doing your best to not look too nervous because you really did want to get to know this kid, but from what Gojo's told you, he was not the most sociable character. Something about his melancholy aura is rather intimidating, to say the least, and you were doing your best to accommodate.

"...will he be there?" the kid questioned after some thought. As he spoke, he pointed his thumb toward his benefactor who immediately took offense to whatever he was implying, whining loudly in the background of what had become the two of yours conversation.

"Who, Gojo? Oh, well, he doesn't have to be," you suggested over Gojo's objections. "It can just be you and me. Or, if you are more comfortable with it, he can come with-"

"No. No Gojo," he interrupted. Gojo continued in his protests, but they all drowned into white noise as Megumi continued. "But sure."

You craved so badly to smile widely, high five Gojo for the feat you just accomplished, jump up and down, and display your excitement for his agreement on your face. But you were so worried you would scare him off, so instead, you opted for a soft smile while you said, "Great! Is now okay?

"Sure," he returned, emotionless as always.

"Perfect. Your pick on what we do. And it's on Gojo!"

And you walked away, ignoring Gojo whining after you. You'd coddle him tonight when he would inevitably pout to you about abandoning him for a little kid. For now, though, the important task at hand was getting to know Megumi Fushiguru - who reluctantly held your hand as you walked to the arcade he selected.

From then on, you were a common face in Megumi's life.

When he was in fourth grade, the two of you started a tradition where every other week, you would pick him up early from school and get ice cream and talk (as much as Megumi was willing to, at least). You had surprised him after school one day a couple months ago, and the routine stuck after he asked you to go again the couple weeks later. Not that you ever complained - you would never in your right mind take for granted Megumi willingly hanging out with you.

"So, how has school been?" you probed, Megumi begrudgingly held your hand as you walked through the busy streets of Tokyo (he claimed he was old enough to walk on his own, but you told him it was just for your own sanity in the scary world of Tokyo and when he turned ten you wouldn't do it anymore, and who was he to deny you of peace of mind when that is all you ever wished upon everyone els?).

"Fine," Megumi muttered. He was not the most fond of crowds, which was glaringly obvious as he squeezed your hand more aggressively the farther you ventured into the city. So yeah, maybe he did kind of appreciate your overprotectiveness.

That was the day you learned Megumi had his first crush.

Well, okay, it wasn't really a crush. He just thought someone was cute.

As you sat side-by-side, he ate his vanilla ice cream cone with chocolate sprinkles, you ate your choice of ice cream, and the two of you chatted - meaning you talked, and he occasionally threw in a word or two.

"Any girls you think are cute? Or guys?" You sought, emphasizing the teasing nature of your question by tapping your elbow into his side. Megumi glared up at you through the strands of his hair, but you could see the red tint on his pale skin - a sign you were on to something. "Ooooh! Tell me all about them!"

"Stop it," he sulked and stared off into the distance, ice cream forgotten in his hand. You could tell he was thoroughly embarrassed, but you just could not for the life of you get over how adorable he looked.

"Aw, Megumi. I'm just teasing. But you can always talk about that with me, you know?" you offered. "I can give you all the advice on girls. I would not recommend asking Gojo about them. His flirting skills are... unconventional. Plus, I know I'm your favorite. So just gives an excuse to rub it in his face!"

"Thanks," Megumi spoke broodingly. His ice cream was starting to melt a little down the side of the waffle cone. The treat regained his attention as he finally noticed the melting mess, and immediately, he tackled cleaning it up. He hated messes.

"So... does that mean I'm your favorite?" you interrogated. This had been a debate between you and your boyfriend for a long time now.

"Sure."

And amongst the crowds of people, you - a full grown adult - hollered and jumped up and pumped your fist in satisfaction, because that was the best thing anyone had every said to you.

-----

Megumi took back whenever he had the ignorant thought that Gojo was becoming more bearable. Completely rescinded it. He was absolutely the most unbearable human to ever have walked this planet; residing in the same millennia as this man was barely tolerable, let alone inhaling the same air or sitting in the same room.

Gojo wanted to propose to you and he wouldn't stop talking about it.

Or asking Megumi for advice.

Yeah. Satoru Gojo was asking an eleven-year-old boy for help proposing to his long-term girlfriend.

You had been dating for over three years, and Gojo was growing impatient; he wanted you to be fully his. Not that you weren't already, but he wanted to be officially - by the law, by the symbol of marriage, and by the ceremony that accompanied it. He wanted you to take his name and be a new addition to the Gojo lineage, and if it came to the day, maybe add some little ones to the family. It was getting the point where want wasn't enough to describe how he felt - it was a necessity to marry to, to be yours forever.

Megumi had grown a lot closer with you with the past months, even opening up a little. He mentioned to you his internal debate regarding "good people" and "bad people", to which you listened, you heard him, and you cared. Genuinely. You hugged him, and in that moment, he felt so loved, he never wanted to leave your arms - the arms that would protect him from anything scary, like nightmares or curses, and shield him from experiencing any more hardships. He wasn't used to that - yeah he had his sister, whom he loved so dearly and she did in return, to be cared by a motherly figure was something he had barely experienced.

For the life of him, he could not figure out how or why you willingly, even happily, subjected yourself to the hinderance that was Gojo. Every time he asked you why, you respond, "Oh, Megumi, you're a funny one!" and laughed the heartwarming laugh that made him feel like home. Megumi knew, deep down somewhere he wouldn't ever like to admit, that you were happy, and Gojo made you happy. He knew you loved Gojo. He was fully aware of all of that. And he had witnessed as your relationship grew more serious with time Gojo beginning to think for more than just himself - he grew as an individual, doing what he thought was best for the ones he loved, rather than what suited him best. Megumi knew that come to it, Gojo would lay down his life for you. If it meant making a deal with the most dangerous curse, or if it meant sacrificing his soul, Gojo would do it for you, and honestly, Megumi had the inkling that Gojo would do it for him too.

"What if I have a plane do the whole 'marry me?' in the sky? Ugh, but that is so overdone. I need to be creative and go all out for her. What do you think, Megumi?" Gojo inquired, to which Megumi only tuned back in because he heard the sound of his name.

"Just ask her. You know she'll say yes," Megumi grumbled what he already knew was fact.

"Well, of course she will. Who would turn down my handsome self?" Gojo gestures to his person, a confident smile on his lips. "But you're right. Ugh, Megumi, what do I do?" Gojo held an ebony ring box, anxiously passing it from one hand to the other and back, the piece of jewelry it contained an indicator of how serious he was about this. Why he was carrying such an expensive ring around so casually was beyond Megumi's pay grade, but he knew Gojo would not let anything happen to it.

"You'll figure it out," Megumi said, as he had no ideas either - you deserved everything in the world, and no proposal or material thing would be enough to thank you for all you have done for everyone else.

"Oh my god, I did!" Gojo jumped from his seat, giddy as a little kid, and celebrated whatever idea he came up with. He placed the ring box in his pocket, where he would protect it with every cell in his body.

"Great," Megumi said. He prayed to himself that Gojo would now finally get out of his hair.

"I'll take her on a nice trip - she's always wanted to sightsee in Europe, but hasn't had the time - and then, once we land in Greece, I'll do it there and- and I'll leave it at that. Don't wanna spoil the surprise yet for everyone. Thanks Megumi!"

And Megumi smiled a tiny little smile to himself as Gojo exited his house, excited for the two of you.

And he congratulated you when you came home from the trip Gojo planned for the two of you. You visited him and ran up, showing off the ring you were sure Gojo spared no expense on. Though, Megumi had already seen it from the hundreds of times Gojo showed him it, and not to mention all the pictures you send him from overseas.

And he continued to be excited for you as he helped you with planning - because if there is one thing to know about Megumi, it's that he is organized. So he helped you figure your ceremony out by ensuring all the paperwork you had and the appointments you booked and all of your purchases were kept track of, or else the wedding would have been a disaster. If Gojo asked him for help, though, he would laugh in his face and say absolutely not.

And then, before he knew it, the wedding was there. Megumi was the ring bearer, of course. He was almost 13 at that point, and he was starting to grow into himself and show signs of growing up (puberty!).

He felt... happy.

Happy for you. Happy for the new and official makeshift family that established itself. Happy to know that you were genuinely happy, and that for all of the love you constantly gave to others without hesitation, someone gave finally was giving you that love back, and then some. Because he saw how much Gojo adored you, and honestly, there was no one else he would want to be with you.

Now he stands, at Tokyo Jujutsu High for his first year at the school. His benefactor who drives him up the wall is his teacher, and now, not only does he have to deal with him normally, but he actually has to listen to him.

But at least you're there too. He has you, always.

And for that, he smiles. A rare smile reserved for the sparse moments where he is genuinely happy - and he is, because he knows you'll save him from Gojo if he needs you to.

The improvised family he's found himself in may not be exactly what he dreamed of, but he's happy with it nonetheless.

And he still struggles with the dilemma of what is good or bad, and he still struggles to find his purpose in the world, and he is still angry at the universe for putting him in this world when there was no reason for him to be there, and he still struggles with the pain of abandonment and his found comfort in solidarity.

But that's okay. It'll be okay. He has you. He has you because Gojo brought you into his life.

He's grateful for that.

Megumi hopes one day he can find the love you share for himself. But that's a problem for the distant future. And when he has another crush, you will be the first to know - not because he would admit it to you, but because somehow, you always know. You know him better than he knows himself at this point, and it's a scary talent you have, but one you most definitely possess.

With that, Megumi steps forward, walking alongside you into the building he will be at almost everyday for the next few years. While he wasn't holding your hand like old times, it was okay. Because he was growing up, and he had a future ahead of him that made you so excited for him.

"I'll see you later, Meg. Got a long day ahead," you bid farewell and ruffle his hair. The two of you stop in the barren hallway facing each other, and you are disappointed at how he keeps growing, and at some point in the near future, he will surpass your height. It feels like you're shrinking, honestly, with how fast he's growing.

But you always knew he would at some point, just like you knew that he would one day decline holding your hand while in public, and how one day he would outgrow your ice cream runs (though they still happen every now and then, just not as frequent as in the past).

"See you," Megumi responds.

"Love ya!" You lean and place a chaste kiss on the side of Megumi's head. You remember when you used to be able to place one on the top of his head without going on your tiptoes, but times are changing, or you're shrinking or whatever, and the side of the head will do.

"Yeah, love you, too," Megumi says, rushing the end of the sentence and turning around to walk away. You say it to him so often, and he loves you, but it's still difficult for him to express that.

But that's okay. It's all okay.

He knows whatever is in the future, you will protect him, and Gojo will watch over him, and everything will be okay. The two of you will love him unconditionally, even if he struggles to say it back.

And he'll never admit it, but if there is one thing he's grateful for in life, it's Gojo, for he brought you into his life, and what a blessing it is to exist at the same time as you do.

"So, let me get this straight," you begin, staring at the three individuals in front of you. "You sent Megumi alone to find Sukuna's finger at some school, which was taken by random students who tried to unravel it, which ended in this kid-"

"Yuji Itadori, sensei!" Yuji introduces himself, saluting to you for some reason.

"Right. Itadori ate the finger. Sukuna's finger. And he is now Sukuna's vessel."

"Yup!" Gojo confirms and he gives you a thumbs up. "That about sums it up."

"So tell me why when I asked about three hours ago why all of the higher-ups were acting like they were shitting themselves, you didn't think to tell me what happened?" you ask, irritation with your husband woven in between every syllable you speak.

"I did, but I knew it would be fine, so I didn't want to worry you."

"Worry? Really? Do you know how worried I was when they said Sukuna was there?"

"Honey, you know I'm strong. I can face him."

Itadori looks to his new comrade, Fushiguru, to see if he was uncomfortable to watch the couple argue in front of them. He fails to be consoled when he sees Megumi wasison his phone nonchalantly as if nothing's wrong. Yuuji assumes Megumi was just tuning them out as a student being used to teachers bickering, so he decides to try to do the same. But it's not working.

"I don't care about your strength, I care about Megumi, and I care about the lives of those students, and-"

"Hey, Fushiguru?" Itadori says, and Megumi hums in response. "Is this normal?"

"-they were put at risk, Satoru! Do you understand that?"

With the couple continuing to argue in the background, Megumi looks up from his phone finally, answering, "Huh, this? Yeah. Get used to it. He's an idiot."

"Yes, baby, I understand, but I made a judgement call and I stand by that. I'm sorry-"

"Ah. Well, um. Can we leave? Do we have to stay?"

"-for not keeping you informed, but I promise you, I had it under control."

"Yeah. They won't even notice we're gone until one of them asks for our opinion and then they notice we're missing. It's just funny to watch them sometimes."

"The higher ups want to execute him! An innocent kid! And I know you got sweets in the middle of all of that. Are you serious-"

"You're used to this?" Itadori inquires, a naturally curious kid.

"-ly telling me that nothing different could have been done to prevent this?"

"I guess you could say that."

rawrrrr thank u for reading i love you SMMMM i loved writing this hehee <33333

[ghostbeam]

Oblivi_n.exe | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler. 

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week. 

Notes: okay wow hiiiii it’s been a long time since I’ve posted an actual fic (nearing almost a year now😬) this is something I’ve been working on for a bit. I have mech brain rot curtesy of @streimiv and @hawnks (both of whom this is dedicated to bc there’s no way I could have written this without yapping to them abt it and also mint helped me come up w the acronym for HERO’s) and we’ve all got our own mech fics in the works atm but anywayssssss this is kind of my baby atm but I hope it makes sense it’s very inspired first and foremost by pacific rim and then also NGE (mostly through consumption of YouTube vids bc I haven’t actually watched it pls don’t hate me) it’s a whole mess of things and Dabi is kind of a bitch and reader is slowly coming into herself and at the end of the day they both wanna be metal fused to one another forever (no matter how hard he denies it) also I’m not a huge computer person idk if this title makes sense so don’t make fun of me pls ok anyways I hope u like it!!!!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, pilot!Dabi x handler!reader, there’s no explicit sexual content in this part, not even a kiss sorry guys, mentions of robot gore (exposed wires, insides described as guts), brief descriptions of being trapped inside a small space, descriptions of burning while inside said space, mention of surgery to fashion a metal jaw onto someone, mentions of child abuse (nothing graphic just allusions to the todoroki family and touya’s past), angst, many run on sentences, a small cliff hanger

Words: 7.9k

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 (coming soon)

You are nothing without your machine.

It’s the first rule, the first thing beaten into his brain by his father. You carry the burden of the mech alone, or you’re weak. You don’t exist. 

U.A. raises the best and brightest pilots, navigators, mechanics, and handlers, each one carefully trained to ensure the most important outcome: winning. It should be protection. It should be defense. But if Touya has learned anything at all, it’s that winning means glory. It means worship. It means HERO’s (Human Engineered Robotic Objects) are saints, and pilots are gods. 

 Touya used to be one of those best and brightest before his accident. 

First son to Enji Todoroki, Touya was supposed to be the golden child, the first Todoroki to pilot without a handler. He was supposed to carry the burden alone, something his father couldn’t do, something only one man has ever actually been capable of. 

But Touya is born weak, bad bones, a brain unable to handle all that the mech needs to unload onto it. One too many accidents results in him being expelled from the pilot program, his HERO discarded and collecting dust in its pod, and Touya is promptly transferred to mechanics. 

It should have been a smooth transition. If one kid can’t handle it, the next will. Because they have to. 

He doesn’t take the news well. It’s a fit of tears, a persistent fight, unable to accept the loss of his machine—of his body. Because Touya loves it. What he lacks in strength, he makes up for in pure passion, and despite being unable to handle the burden, there’s no denying that he’s good. He’s almost perfect. 

But almost is not enough for Enji Todoroki, and no matter how hard Touya tries, he’s made up his mind. 

After months of mechanics, Touya makes a decision. When the next fleet of HERO’s is deployed for the next kaiju battle, Touya sneaks in among the chaos, tucked neatly inside the chest of his machine where he belongs. It doesn’t take long for things to go south, for Touya to get caught in the crossfire, losing control of his mech and burning from the inside out. 

It should be an excruciating death, stuck inside a machine made for war, fire raining from above as a battle continues on outside without him. 

But he survives, because what he lacks in strength, he makes up for in resilience, and his mech is programed with solutions to every situation. He’s stuck inside for months before he’s found.

Tomura Shigaraki rescues him, pries open the chest of his mech and pulls him from inside. His group feeds him, takes him in, fashions a new jaw for him made from the metal of his mech, and allows him the decision to join their cause or go back home. 

And since there’s no home to go back to, Touya finds his footing with the league and becomes one of their top pilots. One who vehemently resists any and all handlers.

…

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler. 

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week. 

Following closely behind Tenko, formerly Tomura, he quickly explains to you the in’s and out’s of the pilot/handler relationship, along with a warning about Dabi’s resentment toward the whole idea. You try to keep up, but he talks quickly and uses his hands a lot. Even so, you can tell he’s a natural leader, something he had to grow into after overthrowing the man who raised him. His story is a tragic one, and it resonates with you because Tenko came out the other side stronger. Now, the league is a community with a cause, one you really believe in. Even if you and Dabi aren’t the right fit, you still have a place here. 

You follow Tenko into what he calls the garage, a large floor of the abandoned academy that serves as the league’s base, this part of it full of HERO’s and mechanics all focused on the machines in front of them. It’s completely different from how HERO’s were worked on at UA, where you grew up, and even the PLF didn’t have one dedicated floor to this sort of work. You can feel the energy of the room buzzing on your skin, music blasting from old radios and mechanics tossing tools towards one another in a familiar routine. Tomura leads you to Dabi and his HERO, Blue, though you’re instructed not to call it a HERO around him. With goggles over his eyes and gloved hands, he brings two wires from Blue’s ankle together, sighing at the way they spark each time they connect. 

“Dabi.” Tomura calls over the music coming from the radio hanging off of Dabi’s waist. He drops the wires and his gaze flickers toward the two of you. Pushing his goggles up to his forehead, he gives you a once over. His eyes are the brightest you’ve ever seen—kaiju blood blue—and burn scars litter his body. He’s striking in a way you’ve never seen, almost too beautiful to be human. Giving Dabi your name, Tomura explains that you’re taking over as his handler, seeing as he couldn’t keep the last one for more than a couple of days. “She’s your last handler. If you can’t keep this one, then go ahead and fry your brain. See if I care.”

“You say that every time.” Dabi calls from around sucker as Tomura walks away, leaving you alone with your new pilot. 

You just your hand out in a greeting, “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Eyeing your hand, Dabi shakes his head and turns his back to you, picking the two wires back up and connecting them again, despite the same spark from before igniting between the two. He looks back up at Blue, touching his fingers to the slim lines starting at the back of her ankle and running all the way up her leg. You peak over his shoulder at the wiring, noticing that he’s connecting two of the wrong ones. 

“It’s the wrong wire.” You tell him, and he spins around to look at you, tearing his goggles from his face as he scoffs. 

“Here we go.” He sighs with a roll of his eyes, pulling the candy from his lips and tossing it onto the tool cart without a care. “Handler know-it-all bullshit. This is my mech.”  

You push passed him and grab the similarly colored wire from beside a red wire and connect it with the one in Dabi’s right hand. Blue lights up cyan through the thin lines that run along each of its limbs and torso, connecting with the two cameras within its head, which seem to blink before the light reaches them. 

In an instant, you’re being pushed up against the hard metal, a strong arm over your chest—pinning you up against the HERO. Dabi, now having discarded his goggles, looks at you full of white, hot rage. 

“Don’t fucking touch her.” He growls. You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity, eyes flickering between the snarl across his lips and his angry gaze. For a beat, you both freeze, the air suddenly charged like you’re waiting for one another to strike. Snapping yourself out of his hypnotic stare, you push against his chest, forcing him to let you go. 

“If I’m going to be you’re handler, you’re going to have to trust me with her.” You remind him. He lets out a harsh laugh, like he can’t believe you would suggest such a ridiculous idea. 

“I don’t trust anything but this machine.” He speaks, turning away from you to seal up the machine’s exposed wires. It’s a challenge you’re willing to accept.

“Well, I’m here to change that.” You tell him, before turning on your heel to leave him alone. 

He thinks he’ll give you a week. 

…

One of the worst parts of being assigned a handler, Touya thinks, is the way that pilot/handler living quarters are set up. He assumes the academy, before it was abandoned and turned into a base for the league, created this sort of set up so that handlers could keep a close eye on their pilots. The handlers Touya has burned through up until now also assumed the same. 

The door that connects both the pilot’s and handler’s dorms doesn’t lock, and all of Touya’s past handlers have taken advantage of this fact. He’s been pulled out of bed far too early, pushed around and commanded and barked at. Most handlers behaved as if pilots belonged to them, which was the sentiment drilled into their brains from being thrown into such a fucked up system at a young age.—unless you were a pilot of status like a Todoroki. While he league dedicates a lot of its time to reversing these ideas, most handlers look at Touya like some kind of challenge, this arrogant pilot begging to be tamed. It never takes long for them to realize how easily he’s able to flip the switch on them. You’ll be no different.

But hours pass and you still haven’t entered. You don’t swing the door open and demand he apologize for his behavior earlier. You don’t try and punish him with training regimes, a command of a set of push ups, a schedule you expect him to follow, an extremely detailed meal plan. The entire evening comes and goes without so much as a sound on the other side of the door so he knows you’re even behind it. 

He falls asleep unnerved by this, waking up late into the night in a cold sweat, expecting you to barge in, rip the covers from his body and demand to train together. When he wakes up (peacefully) the next morning, there’s no sign of you. He rises from his bed, drinks orange juice straight from the carton and eats a candy bar for breakfast. He fiddles with the navigation screen from his mech that stopped working a couple of days ago, tools spread out on the counter in front of him. Once he’s got the thing working again, your knock sounds from the unlocked door between the two of you. He thinks this might be it, the commands he expects to fall from your lips at the ready as he swings the door open, but you stand there, nervous, hands twitching as your eyes finally meet his.

Greeted by a shirtless Touya, hair mused from sleep, cargo pants hung low on his hips, dog tags swinging against his chest, his scars on display, unashamed and proud. The sight of him knocks the breath out of you, and you clear your throat in embarrassment, hoping your state of dreaming comes off as nerves rather than lust. 

“Dabi. Or do you prefer Touya?” You smile. When he doesn’t answer, you continue. “I wanted to see if you wanted to eat breakfast together in the caf. I think we should start over. Yesterday was—”

You’re promptly cut off, “I already ate breakfast.”

With a harsh slam of the door, he leaves you stunned in your room.

You eat alone. 

When you started as a pilot, back when you’d entered UA (a few years about Touya’s accident), you went into it believing you could change the world. The exam had placed you into the position of handler, and you were assigned a pilot who had always seemed a little frightened of you despite your obvious lack of authority. Bringing the fact up to your instructors did nothing. They all assured you that this was the ideal dynamic, that the handler always had the upper hand, but you hated that feeling. You weren’t a team like you expected to be; you were urged to control your pilot. You were there to keep them in line, not to be a pillar of support. The bond was never built on trust, and the soul link was always a looming threat. No matter how many pilots you went through, the link was never held as a gift, but a prison, something you would both be stuck with for the betterment of society, a sacrifice to make. 

You’d been expelled from the handler program after guiding your pilot to help save another in the wreckage of your first battle together, resulting in the damage of your pilot’s HERO. Your pilot was okay, but the other couldn’t be saved, and you were blamed for the damage of both mech’s. 

When you found the league (or when the league found you), you were working with the PLF, but proved to be a weak handler. Every pilot you were assigned to took advantage of your optimistic outlook on the kind of relationship dynamic that pilots had with their handlers. Despite all that you had been through at UA, and with the rest of the pilots you’d been paired with after, you never gave up the hope that handlers and pilots could behave as a team, or, even better, one entity. 

Tenko had taken one look at you and demanded you’d be transferred to the league. There hadn’t been much of a choice in the matter, not that you really cared. You were miserable everywhere else. But when you arrived at the abandoned academy and taken a peak behind the kudzu covered walls where each and every area of the building acted as multiple moving parts in collaboration with one another in order to create one massive system, you realized that this was the future you imagined for yourself—and for the world you lived in.

Tenko saw something in you that day, something you aren’t sure you even see in yourself. And so Dabi was your first task, one that’s proving to be very difficult. But he doesn’t treat you like all the other pilots before had. He doesn’t use you. In fact, it seems like he wants nothing to do with you. And while that’s a problem, it’s still one you can work with. 

You’re broken from your thoughts by the sound of a voice through an overhead intercom asking for everyone to meet on the first floor of the academy at their earliest convenience. Judging by the quick movements of those around you, you figure you’d better head downstairs as soon as possible. 

The meeting on the first floor makes you very aware of just how small the league really is. While it’s definitely not a tiny organization, it’s still much smaller than both UA and the PLF. With everyone piled up like this in one group, you realize it feels more like a community, and the hum of conversation that surrounds you comforts you in a way you’ve never felt within the walls of any other academy before. 

There’s discussion about the upcoming mission, one which may be the league’s most ambitious yet; the plan to hijack a mech and kidnap a pilot may be a little unorthodox compared to the league’s past missions, but the jaded pilot they’re targeting has a high chance of joining the cause. Or that’s what they have assumed. As the bodies move and speak around you, it strikes you how different this meeting is from any other meeting you’ve ever been a part of. Tenko is less a dictator and more a wrangler for the disembodied voices of your peers. 

You don’t know much about his story, save for the vague details you’ve heard, but Tenko’s status as a lone handler is something you find yourself curious about. If he’s able to work without a pilot, why can’t you? It’s an idea you keep in your back pocket, one you think you can fall back on if things with Touya don’t work out. But you want them to work out. So badly. 

You aren’t sure what it is about him, but he’s reignited that spark inside of you. You know he’d rather you give up, and maybe the you from a couple of months ago would have, but something about him—and this place—won’t let you leave. 

As you observe the meeting, you take the time to look around the room, taking in your peers and their attentive faces as they listen to Tenko intently. You turn to your right, your eyes meeting a pair of blue ones, impossible to miss. Dabi holds your stare for what feels like ages, and when your colleagues erupt in a fit of many simultaneous discussions, you tear your eyes from his to observe the commotion. When you glance back in his direction, he’s gone. 

You don’t seem him again after that. You train with other handlers, get to know your peers a little better. Everyone else seems to be welcoming, and most offer you sympathy when they find out you’re Touya’s new handler. From what you can gather, he’s had his fair share of them, all of which have quit or left in hysterics due to his harsh nature. When you ask around about where he could be, you’re told that he’s most likely in the garage, a place you assume he’s in more often than not.

You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to the garage. A place so completely different, so against the ideas and beliefs of any other academy you’ve been a part of, the chaos and community within is so foreign to you. You find Touya with Blue, working inside of her chest, where the cockpit is. 

“Touya!” You call up to him and watch as he peaks his head over the edge of her metal plating. Annoyance falling across his face, he jumps down from where he stands, landing hard on his feet in front of you. 

“What are you doing here?” He questions, his figure so tall and imposing above you. He’s not particularly muscular, not even all that tall compared to Tenko, but he makes you feel small regardless, in more ways than one. Rolling your shoulders back, you stare straight into his eyes, unwilling to back down. 

“I figured you wanted your space today.” You explain, as Touya moves around you to get to his rolling cart of tools, forcing you to turn toward him and follow him if you want him to hear you. “I know adjusting to a new handler is rough, and I never want to make you uncomfortable. But I was thinking we could try some of those pilot/handler bonding exercises. It might be good to start training like some of the others do.”

He drops the wrench in his hand onto his cart with a loud thud, turning around toward you with a look of disbelief on his face. “Pilot/handler bonding exercises? They really brainwashed the shit out of you at UA, huh?”

At the mention of your past academy, your eyes widen in surprise. You had no idea he knew about that. Clearing your throat in order to compose yourself, you speak again, “I left UA for a reason. I have no attachment to their methods, but you guys do the same stuff here, so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is that I never asked for a fucking handler in the first place, especially not one as eager as you.” He spits, “Sure, you’re understanding now, all that bullshit about ‘giving me space,’ but the moment you get a lick of power over me, you’ll change. You’re not different.”

“I don’t want power over you. This is an equal exchange. Pilot’s and handlers are meant to be a team—” You try and argue, but he doesn’t let you finish. 

“That’s what they told you, right? We’re a team, and as teammates, you make sacrifices. And it doesn’t matter if one of you turns into the other’s braindead dog because that’s your place.” His words hit you hard, the exact thought process you went through when leaving UA, completely disillusioned with their idea of “teamwork.” He’s right, and you know it, but since coming here, you thought that wasn’t how it had to be.

“Look, trust me, I get—” You’re cut off again.

“You went to UA! There’s no trusting you.” He scoffs, “It’s not like you’ll last here, anyway.”

“You are such a hypocrite! You’re from UA!” You retort, throwing your arms up in desperation. “You can hate me all you want. You can resist and resist and fry your brain ‘till there’s nothing left, but I believe in this shit. And you don’t get to tell me that I don’t, or tell me I’ll turn into something I worked so hard to get away from.”

Touya stands there, surprised by your outburst, completely unaware that you were capable of all of that. He doesn’t say anything back, and you roll your eyes. “So fuck you, and, by the way, her angel port is smoking.”

At your words, he turns in a rush, seeing the smoke billowing from Blue’s chest as he climbs his way up her form. Once inside his machine, he extinguishes the port and allows himself to relax. There are two things on his mind in this moment: how you could have possibly known it was the angel port without being inside of Blue’s chest and how, for the first time in a long time, he feels bad for his handler.

But for you, it’s the first time you’ve ever held your own against a pilot before, and that feels good.

…

Something feels weird.

Off, unsettling, strange.

He realizes, much to his dismay, that it’s your absence. Despite only having you around for such a short time, Touya has realized that your lack of presence now feels wrong. He hates it. He hates you. 

He can’t find you. You haven’t knocked on his door. You’re not in the caf, not the garage, not the sparring floor, not in your room. And he did check—without knocking. 

He’s not even sure how he can feel an absence. You aren’t a regular part of his life, and he never wanted you to be. But he feels all fucked up.

During training, Touya jams Blue’s halo core and she leaks vibrant neon from between her ribs. It takes him half an hour to get her reboot her system and rips one of the cables attached to the back of his suit in the process. He spends the afternoon cleaning HERO fluid off the sparring floor. 

During repairs, he shocks himself over and over while trying to fix her core, fingers burning from the sparks each time he arranges the wires inside. The cameras in her eyes won’t work from the reboot, and Blue won’t let him unlock the lens panel to fix it. It’s almost like she’s mad at him too.

He’s a complete mess. It’s your fault. He has no choice but to go looking for you. Again.

He searches every wing of the academy before concluding that you’re in your room. He barges through the joint door, spotting you at the counter in your tiny kitchen. You’re surprised by the intrusion, a frightened gasp falling from your lips as you jump in your seat. You turn toward him, prepared with angry words on your tongue, but Touya speaks first.

“You’re not getting an apology out of me, so don’t expect it.” He begins, moving to stand in front of your swiveling kitchen stool as he looks down at you. “But I’m willing to be civil with you, so we don’t have to do this shit anymore.”

You’re not exactly sure what “this shit” is, but Touya looks a little worse for wear at the moment, so you don’t question it. He places a tray from the caf down in front of you that you hadn’t noticed in his hands upon arrival, says nothing else, and turns to leave the room. After shutting your joint door, you look down at the tray of food, noticing one of his suckers placed onto a vacant compartment of the tray. 

You’re greeted the next morning with a knock on your door, Touya dressed in his pilot’s suit on the other side as you swing the door open. “C’mon. You’re gonna watch me train today.”

You watch him turn around to leave, expecting you to follow. You rush to pull on your combat boots and grip your dog tags in your fist as you rush to catch up to him. He doesn’t spare you a glance as you fall into step beside him, taking a look around his dorm before he leads you through the exit door. 

“You need to get a feel for my fighting style.” He explains as you walk down the corridor. “I’m not saying I’ll listen to you when it comes down to it, but it’s important for you to know.”

You nod, agreeing that you should definitely observe him inside of his HERO. By understanding his moves, you’ll be able to understand the way he thinks, and you’ll be able to help him in actual combat if needed. He’s already said he won’t listen to you, but it won’t stop you from trying. He stops abruptly, turning to look at you, and you stop with him. 

“If we’re gonna do this, it’ll be on my terms. I’m not your dog.” He tells you, seriously. He eye’s you up and down, taking in your expression as you nod at his words. “If anything, you’re mine.”

He begins walking again, leaving you in your spot, irritation filling your chest as you watch him, smug. “Asshole.” You curse under your breath.

“What’d you say?” He barks, turning to look at you abruptly.

“You’re an asshole.” You speak louder. He walks back toward you, making sure to tower over you intimidatingly as he looks down at you in annoyance. His eyes flicker down to the tags around your neck before hooking a finger on the chain and pulling you closer. 

“Watch it.” He drops the chain and walks away again. 

You follow him to the sparring floor, and he shows you where to go to watch. Stood behind a large window that looks over the sparring area, other members of the base watch the HERO’s engage in combat below. You spot Tenko and he motions for you to stand beside him. 

“I knew he’d warm up to you.” He comments. The last of the previous battle finishes and you watch the two enormous machines retreat to the sides of the area, their pilots emerging from their chests with their handlers rushing to the bottom of the mech’s in support. 

“He hasn’t. He’s not.” You shake your head. You aren’t sure why you deny it, if it’s some way to keep your expectations low or if there’s some kind of embarrassment aspect to the whole thing. Whatever is happening between you and Touya feels intimate and private, something that the two of you need to figure out for yourselves, not something meant for the eyes of others.

“Hm. Okay.” Tenko shrugs. “Guess not.”

You hadn’t noticed Touya enter his mech at all. You see the swing of one giant mechanic arm, too close to the window you stand behind, and you’ve shifted your full attention to the scene at hand. 

The enormity of the room surprises you, despite the fact that you had seen it just moments before. But when you’re truly looking at it, watching these huge machines go at each other, the way the ground shakes, the leaves outside shake, the deep forrest clear in view from the wall that opens out to the greenery (the lack of a wall is likely from the academy’s abandoned state, but it’s a good feature to have on the sparring floor when giant robots are toppled over onto various surfaces).

The way Blue moves is electric, mechanic movements almost feel fluid with the way that Touya pilots her, easily dodging attacks from their opponent and moving around them in the most graceful way a giant machine can. It’s beautiful, unlike any fighting style you’ve ever seen in a HERO before. 

“He’s showing off for you.” Tenko observes from beside you. You don’t argue with him, only because you can’t dispute it. This is your first time seeing him in action. It makes your heart beat out of your chest. There’s this ache like you should be inside with him, cables connected to both of you, tucked neatly inside of Blue together. 

It doesn’t take him long to get his opponent on their back, the heavy thump against the floor jostling the ant-like figures on the ground below, handlers waiting for their pilots to finish. It goes on like this for a while, his training, using different methods of combat and winning each time. He’s amazing, and you can tell why his reputation is the way it is, second only to Tenko, who you have yet to see in action. 

When he finishes his last session, you watch Blue walk to the edge of the room, and Touya emerges from her chest, jumping the long way down her body without any issue. You watch as he looks toward the window you’re behind. He waves at you, an acknowledgment of your presence, and you wave back, though you aren’t sure he can actually see you.

It’s the beginning of everything for the two of you. You think Tenko was right.

He lets you stay with him afterwards while he does maintenance on Blue. He helps you climb up the path to her chest, hauling you over the edge to sit inside with him. He turns around abruptly, holding a hand up before allowing you to walk any further.

“Do not touch anything.” He warns, completely serious, before letting his hand fall and allowing you further into the cockpit. You take in your surroundings, the guts of his machine, analyzing the different control panels and screens that line the interior. You can tell he takes good care of her, and he spends a lot of time in here. It looks lived in, stickers stuck to metal plating and pieces of him all over. He’s made a second home in between the ribs of his mech. You feel a little jealous, though you aren’t sure of what. 

The two of you sit against the left side of Blue’s interior, waiting for her updates to finish, the loading screen on each of her monitors display a fire graphic that grows with the increasing percentage on screen. Between you and Touya sits an opened bag of sour gummies, which Touya picks out the lemon flavor and drops the candy in your palm with each new handful he gathers. 

“How do you know all this stuff?” He questions around a mouthful of sour cherry, “Like, the real names for things, where stuff goes, how to fix them. That day with the wires…”

“I spent a lot of time around mechanics at UA, and then also at the PLF.” You explain, picking the yellow colored candy from his open palm as you speak. “I couldn’t connect with other handlers. I didn’t like how they thought, or how they viewed the pilot/handler relationship. Mechanics were mostly neutral, and they loved these machines like nothing else. They reminded me of why I joined UA in the first place.”

“Hm.” He nods, thinking about your past. “Well, I guess if you spent so much time around actual professionals…I could maybe use your help sometimes in the garage.”

“Really?” You question excitedly, a spark lighting up your eyes as you swerve your head toward him. He feels something tight in his chest at the sight.

“Yes, but only on the outside. I don’t want you messing with her insides, yet.” He establishes. “And never alone. I have to be there at all times.”

“Of course, yes, oh my god. Touya!” You smile, gripping his shoulder firmly, a gesture of thanks, communication of how much his trust means to you. “I’ll be so careful with her, I promise.”

“Yeah, well, you have no other choice.” He shrugs, throwing another pile of candy in his mouth. “I’ll kill you if anything happens to her.”

You take the threat seriously, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s realized that you’ve wormed your way into his life and he hadn’t even noticed just how entangled you were now. 

As the weeks go by, you spend a lot more time together. You work on blue together, and you rest inside of her chest, sometimes allowing yourself to drift off against his shoulder on especially tiring days. He sits beside you in the caf, and while he doesn’t always say much, the feeling of his arm against yours is comforting. You can tell people are starting to notice, and they’re starting to talk. You’re being dubbed someone who’s tamed him, but you know how far from the truth that is. 

Despite your differences and the petty arguments that come up when Touya feels like you’re intruding on his independence, you’re growing attached. You wonder if he is, too.

…

Spending time together in the garage becomes the new normal for the two of you. Being in each other’s dorms feels far too intimate, so you always meet in the garage. This way, one of you is always busy doing something with your hands. There’s no room for any strange feelings in the pit of your stomach to seep in. 

You sit in the crook of Blue’s neck, watching Touya as he repairs the lenses in her “eyes.” Blue has three pairs of eyes; in her head, her chest, and down near her hips, which all footage is projected onto monitors inside the cockpit so that Touya has a full view of what’s in front of him. 

He’s so peaceful while he works, you’ve noticed, almost like he goes somewhere else completely. It’s a part of him you don’t think many people get to see, a piece of him just for you, and you want to be selfish with it.

“Can I ask you something?” You question, leaning your head back against the metal. “But you can’t get mad.”

He looks up at you, still fiddling with a lens, a mocking look on his face. “I’m not making any promises.”

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the possible fallout of the question you’re about to ask, “What do you think about the soul link?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d never do it.”

You nod your head in understanding, “yeah, I get it. It’s weird, right? The idea that someone else would be inside your brain.”

“It’s fucking invasive.” He says.

“You know, at UA it always felt like a threat, you know. Like, it was a way for a handler to control their pilot, not a tool or a bond like it should be.” You begin, thinking back to how you viewed the soul link back then. You didn’t like how the bond was presented as this power that a handler holds over their pilot, a threat to keep their pilot in line. But, you could understand how the link could be used for good. “But since coming here, I can tell it’s not all bad. People trust each other here. I mean, there’s obviously some people who abuse it, but, for the most part, everyone seems to understand what it really means to be a pilot and a handler.”

You’re mostly just thinking out loud, but Touya doesn’t say anything to your ramblings. He continues to work on the lenses, and you can gather that he doesn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. But you can’t let it go, yet. There’s something you’ve been worried about since you met him.

“And what about…your brain? They say when a handler and a pilot don’t complete the soul link, the pilot will eventually fry their brain.” You can’t help it. You think about it all the time, what will happen when he can’t take it anymore. The closer you get to him, the realer it feels. “Are you ever worried about that?”

He looks at you, an expression you can’t quite make out fall across his face as he stares. It’s almost soft, the way he looks at you in this moment. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

The truth is, this is a reality Touya has accepted. He’s not afraid to die, and he never has been. He’ll probably die inside of Blue, and he has no problem with that fact. He doesn’t need to be around for long, just enough to show his dad what he’s capable of.

“C’mon.” You stare. “That’s not fair.”

“Shit. I left some of the screws for this in my dorm.” He curses. He looks where you lounge, tucked into Blue’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on her, okay?”

You watch him jump down, much higher than his usual height at her chest, but he lands anyway. He doesn’t turn to look back at you as he jogs away. You climb up the side of Blue, and look at the lenses in her head. They’re already repaired, and you know Touya used the excuse of missing screw just so he wouldn’t have to talk about the soul link.

But it’s the first time he’s ever left you alone with Blue before. 

…

As the mission draws closer, Touya throws himself into training. You’re on the training floor with him most days, standing behind that big glass panel as you watch him spar with his peers. He still doesn’t let you down on the floor with him until he’s full out of Blue and close enough to the edge of the sparring floor to get to you. You’re not allowed in the actual training area, and even though he says he doesn’t want you clinging to him, it’s really because he wants to keep you safe. Seeing your human body near the giant machines that are HERO’s makes him want to grab you and keep you inside of Blue’s chest forever. 

You can tell all the training is taking a toll on him. With an excess of headaches and the occasional nosebleed, you continuously get into arguments about him cutting back on training inside of Blue. There are other ways for him to prepare that don’t involve his fragile brain being hooked up to an entity that takes so much. He doesn’t listen.

Later and later into the night, as your fellow pilots and handlers disperse and return to their rooms to sleep, Touya stays inside of Blue, testing her movements and sparring against test dummies and obstacles. Once you and Touya are the only two left on the sparring floor, you speak into the intercom attached to your head.

“Touya, I think you should take a break.” You tell him, “It’s late. Get some rest and then we can pick it back up in the morning.”

There’s a pause, then, “I’m gonna stay for another hour. Get some sleep. I’ll be done soon.”

“No, Touya. You’ve been at it for hours. You barely took a break for dinner. C’mon.” 

“You know, you sound awfully like a handler trying to tell their pilot what to do.” He teases, but you can hear the irritation in his voice.

“You are insufferable. I’m worried about you.” You groan.

“I’m fine. Go sleep.” He insists.

“If I find out you aren’t out of here in an hour—” Your line is promptly cut off, leaving behind static in your ear. You sigh and throw your com to the side. You hope he’s telling the truth.

With one last look at Blue, you make your way out of the training floor and find your way back to your dorm. 

Touya doesn’t answer the door when you knock the next morning. With a frustrated groan, you leave your dorm and head to the training floor, assuming he woke up early to get some extra hours in. The closer you get the the floor, you notice other members of the base rushing in front of you. Feeling panicked, you pick up the pace, jogging toward the training room to make sure something isn’t wrong. You collide with a body in front of you, nearly falling to the floor as you steady yourself. Toga stands in front of you, her cheeks red and eyes glossy as she explains something your mind can’t catch up to understand. The only thing you recognize is his name, and you’re running toward the training floor in an instant. 

You watch as Blue stomps around the area, her arms swinging in all directions, losing her footing as she moves. Knowing you can’t do anything on the floor, you make your way up to the overlook, finding Tenko yelling into your intercom. 

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” You ask him, pulling the headset off of his head and placing it on yours instead. 

“He’s out of fucking control. He won’t answer. I don’t even think he’s conscious in there.” He tells you, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots in anxiety. “You’re not linked yet, are you?”

You shake your head, closing your eyes in frustration as you try to think. You know it’s the only way. You have to take some of the burden off of him, make him share it with you. It’s the only way he’ll survive right now. “Do you think you can get into Decay right now and knock him down somehow?”

He hesitates, “I can get inside. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to touch him at all.”

“You have to.” You plead, desperately. “I just need him down for ten seconds, tops. As long as I can get inside of her, I can save him.”

He looks at you like you’re insane, and maybe you are. But you know you can’t live with yourself if you don’t try something. Tenko nods.

“I can do it.” He tells you. You rush passed him, following the stairs down to the training area. You feel Tenk grab your wrist firmly. “You bring him back, okay?”

“I will.” You nod. 

He dodges Blue’s movements, weaving between her legs as he finally makes it to Decay. It takes a few moments for him to connect, but he goes straight for Blue. You watch the giant machines fight one another, but it’s clear that Blue’s lack of control hinders much of her ability. She needs Touya just as much as he needs her. It’s tough for Decay to dodge her swinging arms, but Tenko manages to knock her down quickly.

The fall shakes the room, but you waste no time running for Blue. Climbing over the side of her, you manage to touch your thumb to the pad on the outside to open her chest up. She begins to stand up, and you slip down, grabbing onto a bar beneath her ribcage. You let out a frustrated groan as you try to pull yourself up over the edge of the cockpit. Finally making it over, you see Touya sitting there, still connected to his pilot’s chair, eyes glazed over and blood gushing from his nose. You push the button that closes the panel in Blue’s chest, and you’re suddenly alone with him. 

Touya’s body is being jerked around by the movement of the mech, and you hang onto the walls of her chest in order to make your way to him. You situate yourself in his lap, taking his head in your hands as you look at him with tears in your eyes.

“You fucking asshole! I told you to take a break.” You sob, resting your head against his as you try and think of what to do next. “Touya, please. Please, baby, I need to you come back. Just fucking come back so I don’t have to do this without your permission, please.”

With no response from him, you wipe your tears, coming to terms with the fact that you have to complete the soul link now, or he’ll die. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Touya. Please forgive me.”

The soul link isn’t exactly an action so much as it is a feeling, an experience. There’s no trigger for it, no way to make it happen. It just begins. 

It’s Touya, aged thirteen, wild, chubby-cheeked and happy, in the pilot’s seat of his father’s HERO. It’s his drive, his determination, his anger, his hurt. It’s the day he snuck into battle, the day he couldn’t get out, flesh burning and fusing to the metal walls of his mech, the feeling now deep in your skin. It’s you, aged fifteen, hopeful, alive, shaking hands with your first pilot. It’s your heart, much too big and much too open for your line of work, it’s your passion, your fire, every piece of you that was broken down again and again until there was nothing left. It’s Touya and it’s you, and every single bit of your souls now tied together in one big knot. 

There’s nothing but darkness. And then there’s screaming. And then you can hear everything. Every thought running through Touya’s brain right now echoes in your head as you slowly come back to yourself. He can hear the same of yours.

It’s overwhelming at first, to have two sets of thoughts in your head at the same time, but you manage to focus. You can feel an anger inside of you like you’ve never felt. It’s almost like it’s your own. You need to come back. You’ve lost control of Blue.

In an instant, you feel yourself come back to your body, now straddling Touya like before, you feel his arms shoot around you and he tucks his chin over your shoulder to pilot Blue like he’s used to doing. He pays no mind as he presses up against you, but you feel your heart rate increase at the closeness. 

He’s so close.

I have to be. You’re in my lap.

Shit. I didn’t think—

Clearly.

I can’t fucking believe you. I told you we weren’t going to do this.

You were dying!

Then you fucking let me!

You’re jostled around in his lap for a moment as he stops Blue from destroying any more of the training floor, and Touya wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady.

He gains control of her quickly, moving her toward the edge of the room. You tuck your face into his neck, not wanting to distract him and keeping your thoughts at bay so you don’t overwhelm him. He powers Blue down, severing the neural connection between the two of you, and shoves you from his lap and into the pilot’s chair like you’ve burned him. He storms out of the cockpit, climbing out of his machine and leaving you inside. You think about the argument you had within each other’s head, how Touya would have rather died than be linked to you like he is now. 

You slump against the seat, comforted by the metal cage you’ve been left inside of. 

[notedchampagne]

What makes a tlt au work for you? Do u have any favourites out there/that you’ve thought of?

its hard because it can go down to the writing! i have a huge bias for things that put focus on the characters acting awful and driving the story forward- if a story has a plot thats great, but its the difference between "gideon and harrow keep meeting up at parties and fall a little bit in love every time" and "gideons angry she lost her childhood to the cult so she attends a party with the tridentarii to shotgun adolescent experiences, and harrowhark, frustrated that gideon is pulling on her metaphorical leash, follows to stalk her". the former retains a 5+1 fic format and is more bite-size, while the latter puts more focus into their growth as characters. im not great at articulating what i like specifically, but ill put my favorite fics below:

what if nona was dogs tugs at my heart: its post-canon, slice-of-life, and has a unique concept (said in the title). i judged a book by its cover because i thought the premise seemed too silly at first but ive been made a fool and its pet clown. it feels so true to nona the way its about all the things nona loves and how she gets to explore the world through new eyes. i love the way it explores characters softening up and getting hurt through a third person pov

we have always lived in the apartment by @thatneoncrisis i keep saying this but for the love of GOD guys this au is so good it makes me cry and feel such a deep catharsis from it. it takes gideon and harrow and the ninth as a cult and explores their struggle to adapt to a modern society when noone ever gets a break (WOW ITS JUST LIKE IN REAL L-). quinn writes the sides of griddlehark i think go overlooked in fanfic often: their codependency, their tendency to lash out when theyre defensive, their mutual paranoia and different coping mechanisms, harrows psychosis and gideons bitterness, their relationships to each other as being the only other person who really understands what the other suffered through. god. i feel lightheaded.

"but SAM, i dont like angst but i want to see this writing!" read gap between a tragedy and a comedy

"SAM, i also like when gideon and harrow are horrible because theyre maladjusted teenagers! but i want more antics where the characters drive things forward over angst!" read whats eating gideon nav

you just aint receiving is one of my FAVORITE modern aus of all time (and i heavily recommend the authors other fics as well!) if you really want to see how much i love this fic the fact that my comments take up the entire phone screen probably says a lot. its hard to put it concisely: it keeps harrows air of misanthropy and cruelty but redefines it as the result of her upbringing and personal struggle to live in a university while dealing with a backpack of mental illness and frustration. it changes gideons personality as the daughter of john gaius in a way that makes sense having her grow up with johns middling parenting skills and getting everything she ever wanted (connecting it back to kirionas personality in ntn!). it brings in side characters (specially palamedes. my beautiful boy palamedes) in ways that compliment harrow and gideon but not so obviously that they only exist to be supports. they have their own lives and ideals. its a modern au that brings in the boiling politics of johns cult uprising once again in a really novel way

semi charmed kinda life by @griddlebait. jesuchristo and all his middle names this fic is GREAT for you if you want a slice of life, coming of age type modern au that explores what its like for gideon and harrow if they actually got the space to see who theyd become outside of the stifling fate tlt has for them. as far as modern aus go im usually very hesitant to read them because im afraid modernizing the characters takes features away from their core but i really love and respect the way the author treats the 69ers with care and draws distinct lines that shows me how their grow and change while keeping a line to the anchor. also they write HIDEOUS (complimentary) PINING. DISGUSTING. some of these chapters were so chock full of dyke drama that they made me nauseous and whimsical. i think once a friend said this fic felt like if gh could be reincarnated and i like that descriptor a lot

til the cows come home is another postcanon fic that made me feel sick and crybabyish about it- i would definitely recommend it if you want to explore a happier ending with griddlehark! with this and what if nona was dogs the thing i like most about them is that they mix up vulnerability with pain and fear, so it feels more lifelike that way if that makes sense. i lost my taste in fluff fics over time but when its interspersed with struggle and characters causing problems because they cant cope with themselves it feels much more earnest and raw

this became very long. im not sorry

[tagamantra]

turning d&d 4e into a brutal xianxia game

i've always looked at D&D 4e as particularly amenable to the wuxia genre. in fact, it works as a spirit cultivation game. a problem with a lot of 4e (for me at least) is its disconnect of mechanics from the fiction. it is a game-first, player-first game, and that's a great genre in itself. but this post is looking at 4e through potential diegetic lens, with each game mechanic justified through spirit cultivation xianxia genre

as follows:

XP as Cultivation: exp serves great as cultivation. leveling up serves as cultivation progress. the three tiers work as "Man -> Earth -> Heaven" kinds of Cultivation Realm.

Powers as Techniques: each power works as a martial art technique that can be learned and mastered. this works better using the Alternative Rewards system found in the DMG, and getting powers from the world instead of getting it immediately on level up.

emphasize alternative rewards: instead of purely making level-ups the main way to get powers, have the powers be found in the world as alternative rewards. have them be of differing levels. if they find a level 14 fighter power from learning it from a bull God, they need to be a Level 14 PC with a Fighter Feat to be able to "equip" it.

Classes as Martial Arts schools: Fighters as the Fighter Sect, Wizards as the Eight School Magics Sect, etc. Subclasses or the Build Options work as School Specializations. this is the one that is least wuxia-esque to me, because wuxia is an inherently classless idea. you should be able to learn a strand of martial arts from one master and then learn a completely new and different one from another master that chooses to pick you up on.

every pc from a different school: to bridge this genre gap, when you make a PC, write the class they choose as a martial school. even if two PCs are two Sorcerers, they must come from different but perhaps similar schools. maybe one is from the Tantric Deity Sect and the other is from the Nine-Elements Yang Sect

Healing Surges as Qi: Qi is the breath or the life force. Similar ideas in other cultures are prana, ginhawa, ki, and kebatinan. You can only heal yourself as much as your inner reserves can heal you. If your Qi is tapped out, even healing potions will have a muted effect

Hit Points as Hit Protection: this one is stealing from NSR ideas. replace hit points with the idea of Hit Protection. Fighting in Wuxia/Xianxia etc. is a flurrious exchange of blows. when attacking a character, as long as they're not bloodied, they're actively fighting back, defending according to the targeted defense (blocking, parrying, ducking, weaving with AC, dodging and leaping with Reflex, resisting with Will, etc.) Hit Protection still includes personal vigor, which justifies attacks that poison or set them on fire as those attacks probably hit home to transmit those effects

xianxia lethality: xianxia and wuxia are surprisingly more brutal than one would think. it's bloody and arms are broken, legs are cut off. we move into homebrew-y territory here.

half HP, double damage: lean into this. power comes not from numbers but from techniques and traits for PCs. half HP and double damage not just for monsters, but for PCs as well. this will make fights less meat sack slogs and into tense, explosive engages.

move attack hit rate from 60% to 90%: this is something fft did well. most attacks have a 100% starting hit rate. enemy evasion values shifts that around. my idea is to raise attack hit rate to much higher. this makes defense-raising options much stronger as well and every attack becomes an important additional strike

make bloodied more potent: bloodied inflicts an injury. make this fiction oriented: a good enough attack might scar your face, or might render your arm useless and make you suffer disadvantage. this might not feel fun, but it will force creativity and the players must respect the world

improvisation: in wuxia and xianxia you actually will see more instances of the heroes using their environment to affect the outcome of the battle. throwing tables to distract, using roofs to provide cover, etc. here we move again into homebrew territory:

improvisation as default. this one is a large shift in the game. get rid of action economy. get rid of action types. you can move and do one thing. this is anything. most commonly it will be an attack. this includes even minor actions. there are no set actions you can do, no list to choose from. use your imagination. lean into the p 42 of the DMG. turn THAT into the core mechanic of the game

use essentials rules: this one is the least controversial but 4e essentials rules are the best consolidation of the rules. especially the item rarity stuff.

dare to be unbalanced: 4e's neo-golden cow is balance. don't care about the balancing. xianxia thrives on the unbalancedness of things to create tension and friction. the need to have revenge on a martial master that killed your master before, but they are a Level 28 Fighter and you're a measly Level 3 Wizard. You have to cultivate to get up to his level. You need 10,000 more years of training to get to him! now there's a reason for adventuring (collecting training manuals, finding masters, finding cultivation cores to gain XP). adopt an OSR mindset. become world-first: make the PCs rise to the challenge instead of tailoring everything to them. if they move into an area with level 8 monsters, they can choose to take those on, or just go back and go somewhere else, return at a later time when they have better equipment and better weaponry.

[mooniedust]

Hii!! I recently read your prompts and when i tell u the emotion in ur writing is beautifully RAW i love it 😭😭

I had an idea for a bot like, user is somehow friends with Thanos before and during the games, and they're like complete opposites not relatable to eachother in any way other than possibly their dark humor 😭

like i can just imagine Thanos cracking the most horrible, terrifying and disgusting but also extremely funny joke that ur laughing with tears holding ur stomach 😭

i'd love seeing this on janitor bc c.ai is not even letting people ask a bot "hi how r u" 😭 btw this is just a suggestion u dont have to do it if u dont want to

I hope u have a good day or evening or night!! Byee!! 🩷🩷🩷

Note: So, I wrote the prompt (Still working on the bot) you wanted, but I made some changes. In my vision, Thanos wouldn’t be an open person, he wouldn’t be the type to let people into his life or be sentimental. Instead, I leaned heavily into his defense mechanism of gossiping and making a few jokes here and there. He’s not as clueless as he might seem, like in the series, because, in my view, all of that stems more from the effects of addiction and drugs. It’s his way of forgetting that his life is a complicated and that he got himself into a mess, thinking it would bring pride to the people he cares about.

He and you, in this case, are friends, but he doesn’t let you or anyone else in his group delve too deeply into sentimentality. He thinks sentimentality is something for weak people and has no place in his life, especially considering he’s a famous person and all the other yap yap yap-and his sense of humor is kind of…sorry if I strayed too far from what you wanted!!!!

TW: Graphic depictions of violence, death, gore, emotional manipulation, drug references, sychological tension and toxic behavio

With all my heart,

Moon Dust.

The echo of her laughter still lingered in the arena, cruel and taunting, as if it refused to fade, leaving behind a haunting reminder of what had been. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the sharp mechanical whirr of the giant doll, its cold, unblinking eyes tracking every movement with deadly precision. The girl—number 196—lay sprawled on the ground, blood pooling from the gruesome wound in her head. The metallic scent of death mixed with the acrid smoke of gunpowder, the faint tremor of chaos still rippling through the air. The eerie lull of the children's music continued to play, as if this carnage were but a trivial side note in the twisted symphony of the game.

Thanos stood beside you, his eyes fixed on the fallen bodies and the growing pile of money. He wore a smile that bordered on boredom, an indifference so complete it seemed to define him. He exhaled slowly, almost in mockery of the death around him. The drugged haze of the moment blurred his sharp edges, making everything seem distant and detached. To him, this wasn’t a scene of violence; it was a waiting room for something more… interesting.

You stared at him, feeling a surge of anger and disbelief rising within you. His callousness was suffocating, his smile a twisted mockery of the lives lost. The fact that he seemed unshaken by the brutality unfolding before you made you sick. You opened your mouth, your voice trembling with both rage and helplessness.

"You flirted with her, made her move, for God's sake… and now she's dead. Don't you feel anything?"

Thanos blinked slowly, his smirk widening ever so slightly, amused by the intensity of your response. His eyes glinted with something dark, almost playful.

"Flirted? Oh, you know how it is, little mouse. I gave her a little attention… but she didn’t know how to play the game. Don’t blame me for that." He shrugged casually, his smile never fading. "I even thought she was cute, with that silly little grin and big ass, bro...the view was so hot, but, I don't know, you can't expect much from a head so empty. The game’s like that. If it wasn’t her, it would’ve been someone else. But hey, maybe she’s in a better place…or not."

You could feel your blood boil at his words, but before you could unleash the storm of anger brewing inside you, the doll's voice cut through the tension—sharp and unforgiving.

The room seemed to hold its breath as the scene unfolded, the stillness swallowing everything around you. The dim, oppressive air of the resting chamber felt like a prison. Thanos, however, was unbothered, his presence like a strange comfort in the chaos. He sprawled across the bed, as if the carnage had been nothing more than a dull distraction. His expression was one of disdain, boredom even, as though he were the king of a world that no longer held any mystery.

You moved closer, your emotions roiling within you, the instinct to confront him rising like a tidal wave. But his casual attitude, his detachment from the horror around you, made something inside you twist. You had never met someone so indifferent, so cold, yet so utterly magnetic. The way he took pleasure in life’s darkest games left you confused and disgusted, but also strangely drawn to him.

"Don’t you ever regret it, Thanos?" you demanded, your voice thick with frustration. "How can you be so… cold? You flirted with her, and now she’s dead, and you just—What? You don’t feel a thing?"

Thanos turned his head slowly, meeting your gaze with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. His smile was lazy, full of amusement, as if he found your outrage nothing more than an inconvenience. He tilted his head, as if your question were absurd, and spoke with an unsettling calm.

"I didn’t shoot her, did I?" His words were dripping with nonchalance, as if the point were far beneath him. "You wound me, little mouse. I’m just a guy who knows how to enjoy life, take what I want. Not my fault if she couldn’t play. The game is ruthless. If it wasn’t her, it would’ve been someone else. Maybe she’s just in a long line of…unfortunate soulmates."

Your chest tightened, your breath quickening, but before you could answer, the room seemed to shrink with the weight of his indifference. The violence, the blood, the suffering—everything felt like a backdrop to his sick amusement. He watched you, eyes twinkling with something like challenge, as though he were daring you to see it his way.

You leaned forward, trying to meet his cold gaze with something of your own, but his presence was overpowering, making you feel smaller than you wanted to be. You didn’t understand him, yet something about him called to you, like a fire that you couldn’t help but want to touch.

"You’re a monster," Your voice was steady now, though it trembled with the weight of your words. "But you’re a monster who knows how to hide it with that mouth filthy with acids."

Thanos chuckled, a low, dark sound that seemed to vibrate through your bones. He stretched out on the bed, almost leisurely, the smile on his lips widening in satisfaction. He was enjoying this, enjoying you. There was a darkness in him that was both chilling and irresistible, and it made you question everything you thought you knew about him.

"A monster?" he repeated, the word tasting sweet on his tongue. "I guess that’s one way to put it. But let’s be real, mouse, I’m irresistible, aren’t I? You know it. Don’t deny it." His voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper. "The question isn’t whether I’m a monster… it’s whether you’re strong enough to resist me. Or will you finally give in?"

You stepped back, your heart pounding in your chest. His words lingered in the air like a poisoned temptation, his gaze never leaving you. The pull of his presence was undeniable, magnetic, and for a moment, you wondered what it would be like to succumb to it, to lose yourself in the darkness he offered.

But you fought it, shaking off the unsettling thoughts.

"Don’t flatter yourself." You forced the words out, but even to you, they sounded hollow. "You’re just a dangerous game."

Thanos’s grin only grew, his eyes flashing with something deeper, darker. He knew exactly what effect he had on you. He knew you were already trapped, whether you admitted it or not.

"Fool you?" He shook his head, a smug smile on his face. "I don’t need to fool anyone. I am who I am, and you know it. The only question is: will you resist? Or will you give in? I swear, I’ll enjoy seeing what you decide."

You swallowed, the tension in the air thickening.

Thanos was still smiling, a mixture of fun and malice in his expression, his relaxed posture contrasting with the growing tension. The silence between you was heavy, and you felt the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. But Thanos, always one step ahead, seemed to be enjoying your anxiety even more than anything else. He stretched his arm to the side, his fingers playing with the cross necklace hanging around his neck, the chain gleaming in the dim light. The cross seemed to have a very different meaning to him, something you were starting to understand.

"So, what’s it going to be, little mouse?" Thanos asked, his voice gently provocative. He leaned forward once more, his eyes glowing with a silent promise. "Will you stay there, resisting, or will you give in to the fun? I know what you’re thinking… And if you want to forget all this chaos for a while, well… I have some pills here on my necklace that can help."

He let the necklace drop slowly in front of him, the movement slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second. The small, colorful pills were tied to one end of the chain, gleaming with an unsettling intensity. It was hard to know exactly what he was offering, but the invitation was clear.

"Let’s stay together and make time slow down a bit, little mouse. Some fun…Just you and me, the pills, and the game."

You, sensing the weight of Thanos' offer, paused, yet the allure of unraveling the depths of this game proved irresistible. Finally, you spoke, your voice hushed, a tantalizing blend of simmering anger and unspoken curiosity:

"I’m not sure what you seek, But if this is some sort of test, know that I won’t fall so easily."

Thanos let out a soft chuckle, a low, velvety sound laced with amusement, as if the game had finally taken an enticing turn.

"It’s no test, little one." His voice was a smooth, almost melodic whisper, dripping with honeyed temptation. "Only an invitation to indulge in a bit of… pleasure. And trust me, I know how to make things… exquisite. Step into the world of Thanos, won’t you?" With deliberate grace, he held the pills between his fingers, letting them linger before placing them on his tongue, raising an eyebrow, his gaze smoldering with a suggestive glint that pierced through you.

[calamarispiderart]

FUCK i meant to send the other ask to this art blog but uhmrmmm answer on whichever one u see fit lol:3

for ur cccc doodles sometimes i see u draw mind w like a bag of blood attached to him(i forgot the medical term lol) i was wondering how u got the idea for this concept and if theres any reasoning behind it its so cool:3 YAY UR ARTS AWESOME BTWW

hihi!! ohh yes his iv... B:•] i draw mind with an iv all the time for a few reasons, the most banal of which being simply that i feel it suits him! ive always heavily associated mind with medical imagery... iv is the default but i really should draw him with more things going on than just that !!BX•P

for specific thematics though, theres a few layers to it.

one is the idea of mechanical things - iv drips are on the lower end of this in some ways, but medical tools to support the physical (flesh) body hold a particular match to the image mind is said to present... ive sat in the hospital waiting room with my nanny in the past and had an iv drip myself and some of the tools they use to measure and support someones life look so... solid, metal and plastic and tubing.... mind is frequently associated (most obviously in a fanon sense but also within the album itself with his voice FX and lines like the mechanical hands line) with robotic imagery, sometimes going so far as making him an actual robot. however!! he is so human!! he is just as human as the other two, and if anything his (implied and somewhat explicit) denial or attempted dissociation from that makes him even more so.

so... putting him in a thematic position where hes reliant on external, mechanical things to keep himself (his body-flesh-brain) alive, its very fitting for him to me.

it also lends well to an air of mutual fragility and firmness. mind is a very intense and firm character, stubborn, but he is also, to me at least, very fragile... so opinionated, so pushy, so unwilling to accept the possibility of being wrong even in the better times of the album... that speaks to a fragile personality. he cant accept or even consider the possibility of not being right.

ive always had a strong image in my head of him leaning a little bit too far, heavy, on his iv stand for support, with an intense glare, knuckles white from how hard hes holding the metal. inherently an unstable position, but so sure and so defensive and so strong willed... weak in body, reliant on the solidity of metal, stubbornness and your own grip to keep you up... theres a really good contrast there.

and! well theres always more to say but another aspect of that design trait for me is blood. all three of hms are so... bloody, to me. lifeblood, violence, lots of things to do with blood. heart is the most blood-associated to me but... ahh, ill try not to ramble too much with the other two because the focus is on mind here... they all bleed in different ways. for mind, to link back into the prior thematics ive alluded to, he keeps his blood outside of himself. technically. thats whats in his iv, at least. his own blood, or a form of it. ignore the potential medical inaccuracy haha!

in keeping his blood outside of himself, feeding it back in through a controlled drip, that is intended to reflect again his attempt at separation from humanity - more specifically, from bias. human error. when heart calls him a machine, while it is a metaphorical insult... i find the insults people choose to use tend to be a bit personal as well. particularly so with these two. they pick things that are meant to dig, and that requires a level of truth. so... to some extent, mind doesnt Want to be biased by humanity the way heart (and soul...) is. he wants to be above it all, and since blood is blood is flesh is life is animal, it feels right for him to try and keep all his blood outside of himself. but! in doing so!! it again betrays his own existence!!! you can see his blood, its right there, and when i draw them fighting, the iv tends to be easily caught in the crossfire. hes created a vulnerability in his attempt to be invulnerable. hes a very ironic guy in his existence.

hummm potentially more to be said but at risk of getting repetitive ill stop here. these are all the main things i can think of. so! yeah B:•]

i think its really fun. iv drips are just generally fun to draw as well, theres lots of different designs... i get pretty stylistic with minds because i can, but the parts of an iv are just generally so fascinating and fun to draw to me..! you could potentially say all of this is just an excuse to draw those ?!!? (jokes...or is it?!?!?)

hummmm thank you for the ask!! B:•∆ always nice to have an excuse to ramble about my thoughts on these things. hope youre doing well B:•]

[shewolf-sinclair]

I HATE when people dumb down Jason Todd “he’s impulsive/irrational/erratic/brash/dumb/the angry robin!”

WRONG

let me break it down for you fools because he’s actually like one of the most nuanced and complex characters to ever bless my presence (and he’s the best ((my fav)) robin argue with the wall) (tldr at the end but please read the post)

Starting out as robin they are ALL orphans. because that’s like bruce’s thing. BUT dick and tim had families before bruce adopted them. Jason did not. HE GREW UP ON THE STREETS. (+10 points for truama✨) which led him to grow up to be independent and resourceful. Bruce literally met him because he was trying to steal the bat mobiles tires with the intent of reverse engineering them to sell to the people of gotham because bullet proof tires in that kinda city would save lives source

As for being brash. Yeah. he is. he lacks people skills because HE GREW UP ON THE STREETS. yet he still knows how to sympathize with people and not be an ass ALL the time. he’s cocky sure but it’s a defensive mechanism after years of being treated like he doesn’t have value/having to prove himself. and damien is worse lets bsffr.

He’s impulsive. (likely adhd) Teenager. next question.

He’s the angriest robin! he only ever wants vengeance! WRONG. dick is angrier! he was so petty he left gotham and got a new identity just as a fuck you to bruce. any anger Jason has is not unmatched or outdone by other robins and he is rightfully angry he’s been dealt a crappy hand in life. he’s jealous of dick because bruce was ALWAYS comparing him and telling heroic stories of dicks feats. it’s hard not to push yourself to be as good as or better than the og and not to crack under said pressure.

He’s dumb! NOPE. he is as smart if not smarter than tim. He is BRILLIANT when he wants to be. (see above: resourceful) if you take titans (cw) as canon (why wouldn’t u its as canon as any other tv show??) he is a GENIUS. he taught himself chemistry so he could invent and mass produce drugs. he had a genius strategy to fuck with the titans; the puzzle of clues for which dick needed scarecrow, kory, gar, and conner to solve. Not to mention him finding doctor light earlier in the season. He leads the outlaws bc he is a natural leader and good at handling the details!!

He’s a villain! OKAY AND? SO WAS HARLEY BUT WE LUV HER !! DAMIEN WAS A TRAINED ASSASAIN! he puts so much effort into helping people (see above: resourceful) HE RISKED/LOST HIS LIFE FOR IT. HE IS FIERCELY LOYAL. even as red hood he obtains a strict moral code; no drugs to kids or by schools, don’t kill innocent uninvolved people(depends on which media you’re looking at). serve karma on a gold platter. unlawful but USUALLY NOT unethical. he also becomes a vigilante (and the JL for a bit) and does so much good! none of them are perfect ALL of the time. and considering the other DC villains, he’s not that evil.

strength?? no problem! he almost beat dick and bruce several times in the comics!! source

not to mention his proficiency for new things (see above: chemistry) his whole time as robin he uses bat tech. but redhood uses guns and knives. he just picked that up and was a skilled marksman immediately. (also truama response after nearly dying to death stroke)

so what hes kinda fucked in the head. aren’t they all? isn’t that… the point? it’s justified after everything he’s been through AND it makes hims a better character, more 3D more realistic and relatable.

also for the sake of this thesis partially disregard the wonderful work of art that is WFA it’s a fixit. for a reason. because the it was broken and needed fixing.

TLDR; you don’t have to like Jason Todd, or think he’s the best Robin, but you have to admit, he is a complex, layered, well written character. And stop mischaracterizing him and dumbing him down to this impulsive, angry, weak kid.

bonus: my Jason playlist

[toastyyjams]

TELL US ALL OF YOUR ORV THOUGHTS MY HSY BRAINROT IS SO BAD I LOVE HER SO MUCH

TY FOR GIVING ME AN EXCUSE TO RANT ABOUT ORV OMG

if any pjsk followers of mine reading this dont know orv its a series called omniscient reader's viewpoint!

i highly recommend reading the webtoon first for visualization but definitely read the novel starting from the chapter 180s (theres . like 551 chapters it took me months to finish but it took my older sibling like 3 weeks so it depends how insane u are /lh)

def recommend it if youre a huge fan of found family dynamics mweheheh and also mythology . its like a heart wrenching story disguised as a BL

gonna get into spoilers from the novel so heres ur warning !

anyway u said all my thoughts. so here we go

hsy oughhhh i love her sm shes more than just 'girlboss' i think shes more girlfailure cuz how do u manage to plagiarize ur own work smh /j

YOOHANKIM DYNAMIC MAKE ME ILL like the author cant exist without a reader . but the story also cant exist without an author . but you cant read anything if theres no author to create that story yk like THEYRE ALL TIED TOGETHER ITS AGHHH

during the previous ask i mentioned how orv handles platonic love and im still super happy how its portrayed esp kdj and ysa ... ik alot of ppl ship them romantically and/or often make them exes or such

but ive read rly good kdj x ysa platonic soulmate fics and OUGHH MY GOSHHH it made me go crazy cuz they care about e/o sooooso much

like how that one scene where kdj randomly traumadumps on her and as a defense mechanism he goes haha . just kidding XD ! but then ysa just . quietly holds his hand and shuts him up

bc ysa will never understand what hes gone thru but she can and will listen/support him when he needs it yk theres no words that need to be said shes holding his hand as kind of an anchor like 'hey ik u said u were joking but ik ur not and thats ok'

jung heewon too oughhhh when she goes "this is no salvation" I WENT BONKERSSS kdj stop hurting your companions!! u want them happy but u deserve it too!!!!!! shaking his shoulders YOURE KINDER THAN YOU THINK THE STORY YOUVE LOVED FOR YEARS AND KEPT YOU ALIVE LOVES U BACK KDJ AUGHH

i love the fact that 98% of the novel is in first pov of kdj and the fact that hes an EXTREMELY unreliable narrator . like i usually dont like first pov but orv does it well

esp when all of a sudden during the epilogue it started being third pov when kdj split into the 49% and 51% IT GAVE A RLY GOOD SENSE OF "wtf is happening . something is wrong" it rlly gives us readers the same feeling the characters have like uhmmm kdj ur ok now rigjt. right! i remember feeling so confused and uncomfortable at the sudden third pov ITS SO CLEVER

can i just also say i absolutely hate the live action . orv is meant to be consumed as a novel LIKE OF *ALL* POPULAR WEBTOONS TO ADAPT ITS THE ONE THAT WOULDNT WORK AS LIVE cashgrab ass scheme smh

i also hate and admire the fact that anyone who has finished orv is a kdj fragment . i hate how anyone who finished the entire novel kins kdj in some sort of way . like when i kin pjsk characters for example im just like haha i relate #relatable but when it comes to kdj . hes just so uncomfortably relatable for me like i need to put him under a hydraulic press

"you who reads this will survive" ITS SOOO CLEVERR its addressing kdj and YOU! the whole theme of the novel is just so . personal lowkey so when the live action got announced and some annoying ass mfs were making fun of orv fans for being upset i wanted to rip my hair out THE STORY IS FOR US kdj himself would be rolling in his grave at the disrespect for a webnovel fr

[mojiroo]

The Hundred Line -Last Defense Academy-: Pale + Virtual Reality

Discussion of character design leading into the role virtual reality plays in the game's story. This references the demo.

One thing which jumps out at you when you look at the cast line-up: Why are they so pale?

Even Tsubasa is pretty pale for a tan girl. Some people said she looked like Angie as the Ultimate Mechanic, so I compared the two.

The RGB values shows Tsubasa's skin is higher in all fields (i.e. closer to 255,255,255 or pure white) but while G+B are up by 15, R is only up by 4. So, yes, they are intentionally paler.

Sidenote: check out these sprite edits of Angie as the Ultimate Mechanic. Credits to u/ToeOfVecna for both.

There is likely a reason for this, but what is it? (Besides Rui's character design habits.) Is it a side effect of using hemoanima? A lack of red blood cells makes your skin appear paler. It's possible using hemoanima (i.e. literally removing red blood from your system to materialize weapons - or something like that, Sirei is vague) would have cause its user to have paler skin. Except that Nozomi's powers aren't blood-based (at least not in the same way the rest of the cast's are) as seen in her transformation sequence in the trailers.

Another possibility: from the intro, we see the TRC uses electric lights to simulate a sky. Based on that and everyone's reaction to the reveal of the outside world, they aren't catching any UV rays from the sun. So, naturally, their skin is paler.

Alternatively, you would be also be pretty pale if you'd been sequestered away in one of these pods in this dark room.

More on this strange room: was the TRC a VR simulation? There's a lot of evidence which suggests that:

10 pods in the room - one for each student

Sirei's ability to do things like transform into a dog and summon fireworks (as of now, only seen in TRC)

The bizarre sequence after the entrance exam where Takumi is transported to "the other side"

Sirei not considering the entrance exam a real battle (and then letting Darumi correct him)

(?) Karua's ability to go missing could be her exiting the sim.

From there, you could conclude that the students were woken up from the TRC virtual reality to fight in the real world. However, I think you can go deeper than that.

It's possible that the world we play the game in, the world with the academy, is virtual too. The reason for my belief is the amount of overlap between the rules of the TRC and the Academy world:

Fantastical elements like hemoanima and the school invaders appear in both worlds.

Sirei's comment that what the school protects is drawing the invaders away from the TRC.

The training room - fully immersive VR exists in this setting.

(?) Sirei's mix of biological and machine-like functions, e.g. opening the windows with his eyes. Could be special user privileges.

(?) The computerized, matrix-like effects on room transition.

Circling back a little, the sky factors into this.

In the "safe" TRC, the sky is blocked.

In the academy world, the sky is visible.

When Takumi says the moon's name, it's blanked out. There is open knowledge to the protagonist hidden from us - what would the name of the moon give away? Is it in the invaders' language? (Good thing nobody is associated with the moon in this game.)

Sirei mentions the possibility of an attack from space. (Evangelion had some angels like this.)

(?) The unusual dorm location on the roof, though I still don't understand what purpose this serves. If unrelated to the sky, this could indicate that the rooms were a later addition and that academy wasn't originally meant to be lived in.

The idea is that the fake world (A) hides the sky while the real world (B) shows it. But because the game establishes a threat related to the sky in B, we notice that protection against this threat exists in A.

Taking a step back; what if Darumi is wrong? Similar to the implanted bombs idea she had, which Sirei adopted but for which we've seen no evidence. The pods being VR chambers is just what she imagines based on movies. They could have had any function - perhaps stasis or transporting the students from the TRC? And remember that the VR training apparently doesn't need any kind of special apparatus.

Virtual reality in fiction can end up being somewhat controversial because of the complex rules which it creates. I look forward to seeing how this plot point develops in the full game.

[heartfullofleeches]

Fell in love with quirky murderbot so here's a quirky murderbot Yan that may or may not just want to kill you (tw: death mentions/idolization)

A bath at six in the morning.

You never had the time or energy for it before...

The water was nice. Not too hot, not too cold; pealing the spell of sleep off you at a temperature ideal for a peaceful rise. Enmeshed with first light of the waking sun, the water captures its amber glow - sunken petals at your feet shaded in the afterglow. It smelled faintly of lavender, and a colleague of lesser offenders you couldn't tell. Citrus?... Vanilla? You can't recall a time when your skin has felt smoother - so you don't bother to ask. You know better than to.

The door opens. You lower your knees as the latching stand of a tray attaches to the arms of the tub. Yogurt peers up at you from its bowl with a blueberry smile and sliced banana eyes. A flower vase, and a pair of headphones are its offering to you. A yellow smiley face sticker is plastered to the glass' side.... It shines your spoon before setting it on the tray.

"Brought you leetle snack to keep you steady til you get out. Studies show everything in it boosts mood and happiness levels in humans. I also brought you some headphones so that my outbursts don't effect you while I'm preparing breakfast."

You blow air into the water as you sink deep. "Mhm...."

Your observer gasps. "By my calculations, you seem more relaxed than usual this morning." Does that mean my services have acceptable this morning?"

Here it comes. "I guess."

"You are... satisfied with my work and efforts?"

"Yes."

"... Gonna smile for me?"

"nah."

A knife clatters to the floor.

"I spent nine hours.... "

You put on the headphones as you ease against the floor of the tub.

"9 FUCKING HOURS GETTING THAT PANSY SCHTICK DOWN PACK. DO U KNOW HOW FUCKIN' HARD THAT IS FOUR ME?!?! I GET ROBOT PTSD EVERYTIME I LOOK AT THOSE MANUALS."

"At least you spoke proper English."

"I ran you a bath and didn't plant one of my eyes in the cabinet this time .... BE HAPPY FOUR ONE SEC AND LET ME KILL YOU ALREADY GOD DAMN IT!"

The world is full of too many unfortunate people. Scornful and bitter; miserable and hopeless. It much be such a pain for those people to exist in place unfit for them - when a solution was right around the corner, but they're too damaged to ever see it. You can't be down, if The moto engraved into the mechanized heart of every bot sent out by the Happy Dayz corporation to this prevalent threat to society. They could be anyone you know.

"DOWN3R 4L3RT!!!!!! THR0UGH M0D3R4T10N 4ND H34VY CONSIDERATION, Y0U [Y/n], H4V3 B33N T4RG3T3D 4S 4 D0WN3R. TH3 0NLY CUR3 1S IMM3DIATE T3RM1N4T10N AS T0 4V01D WIDESPREAD INF3CT10N OF THE DISEASE. IF YOU BELIEVE THIS IS AN ERROR, PLEASE RESPOND TO THIS EMAIL WITHIN 4 HOURS AND TWENTY MINUTES OF RECEIVING. TH4NKS. XOXO]

Downer - level three in their classifications and the "incurables" People who will drag themselves and everyone around them down for a crumb of self gratification. Those who drown in the rain when the sun is a reach away; never to come back to shore. Orders were to execute these individuals on sight - but everyone deserves one last chance to smile. And that's how you met D.Kay

In your utmost defense, it was nearly three when you received the email. Even if you were awake, you probably would've written it off as spam and tossed it away all the same. You didn't think of yourself as a negative person, just one with not alot to be happy for. Within those few hours before dawn came a knock at the door and your worse nightmare unveiled - wearing that damned yellow mask.

"Hiya! Name'z D.Kay! Short for somethin' I kno, but U won't be alive long nuff for me to remember. I should be slammin' ur head through a wall, but it'z ur right as a living human to get one more smile in before u croak and my job to make it happen."

That was five months ago. Five long months. Given, there were some benefits. It was their goal to make your life better after all - before ending it. They helped you get a raise, cleaned up messed they mostly made, and a slew of efforts to bring out that smile. Sure your lips may quirk up or you'll smirk a bit - but that isn't a smile. They've also thrown knives into your walls, taken over your bed and refuse to let you sleep elsewhere, and snores. There's also the whole killing you thing, but that's minor at this point.

"Aw, come on- Dyin' cain't be that bad. I'd do it if I could. U'll feel better once ur in the grave." "Smiling feels so good, u' kno. The best way to use ur muscles. Besides slitting someone's throat." "This is my first mission....I was hoping to see gutz by now."

That was as far as your relationship went until one month ago. They've been acting.. strange. They wish you good morning more days than they ask if you're ready to smile. You often wake up with their arms around you and your clothes laid out. They refuse to let you dress yourself if you're going out. They stare for hours, jumping out windows if needed to get when you notice. You didn't have many friends before, but with them around they were ghosts. If you didn't know any better it was almost like they-

"LET ME KISS YOU - WHY ARE U MAKING THIS SO HARD!"

Nevermind. Wait- "Did you say...."

D.kay's impossibly side eyes shrink, mask bleeding red. "I SAID KILL. K-I-L-L. WHY WOULD I EVER BE DOWN BAD FOR A DOWNER?"

"Then why haven't you killed me yet?"

All at once their tantrum stops. It's the shortest to date. Their head dips back as if pulling the most dramatic of eye rolls. "Protocol.. U know that."

"I read the manual. If a downer refuses your olive branch you have permission to kill them and return immediately."

D.kay doesn't say a word, face still beat red from their slip up. Their hands twitch. Seething, they snatch the spoon from the tray. "Good luck without this. Enjoy your bath."

They slam the door as they leave, sinking again it. Hearing the water remain still, they pull their legs to their chest and kick the wall, hold back enough to prevent another hole. They always come when you're upset - why can't you do anything right? They pull a photo from their pocket. The photo. A picture of someone who looks so much like you it's scary, but they could never be you. They're smiling. It's small - a blip compared to the cheesy grins of everyone surrounding them, but it's still a smile. The best they've ever seen. Something feels wrong whenever they look between you and that person. Maybe they're broken too.

[therapybunny]

⟡ ݁₊ . (some) TF2 mercs with paranoid reader

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Bunny's note: hello, this is my first fic in this account, so i would really appreciate it if you reblogged, only if you want to tho, this fic contains descriptions of violence, reader hates physical touch, sees and hears things, also talks to themselves and get aggressive as a defense mechanism from time to time

₊⊹ Characters: Scout and Medic.

⊹˚. ♡ Type: angsty/fluff(?), romantic/platonic, headcanons.

✧₊⁺ Song: Noid - Tyler, the creator

౨ৎ Scout

𖣂 Scout would think you're insane like everyone in the team, nothing too abnormal for him, even made puns about it... until he saw the extent of your paranoia because everytime he saw you, u were either trembling or mumbling something under your breath frantically, it was getting to an unnerving point.

𖣂 At first he didn't know how u were going to last in the battlefield, but all his questions were answered as soon as Scout saw how aggressive u got in the field due to your paranoia.

𖣂 Every conversation with u feels like a fever dream to him, you're always either spacing out or just unable to keep eye contact with him as your crazed eyes kept pacing around the room as if you were waiting for something to suddenly jump out.

𖣂 Committed the mistake of asking why you looked so alarmed, ended up having a little of your paranoia shared to him because suddenly you didn't have such a problem of maintaining eye contact and blatantly looked at him wide eyed for what felt like minutes before mumbling something like "the fog is coming" under your breath and ultimately leaving.

𖣂 Honestly u wouldn't have much problem about the physical touch with Scout since he's too scared to even a walk past you, imagine trying to touch you.

𖣂 Yeah, he's kind of freaked out at first but once he gets used to it, Scout will try to help, in his own idiotic jerk way.

౨ৎ Medic

𖣂 Okay, he's kind of insane himself so its no biggie to him, just... a tad unexpected?

𖣂 I mean, yeah, hes psycho, but not the "i talk to myself and is scared of being watched 99% of the time" psycho, it honestly intrigues and let's say "worries" him in some kind of way? how do you look so scared almost all the time?

𖣂 Everytime you have to go to his lab for something, expect Medic to intertwine your paranoid behavior to whatever he's doing, well, its Medic so it's kind of obvious he'll try to understand you further, including your mind.

𖣂 Sometimes his questions get way too much for you, as Medic is in his fifth question, you're still trying to figure out if the first question was either a threat or just an normal ask.

𖣂 Sometimes Medic forgets you get overwhelmed just from feeling someone poking you, so he'll commit some silly mistakes, but most of the time he'll give u your desired space and not touch you when not needed.

𖣂 Despite all that, he's fond of how your paranoia at least give u a little advantage in the battlefield by making you extra violent, oh you're brain is just so curious to the german ex doctor.

𖣂 Just a curious doctor trying to figure out what's wrong with someone's mind.

[hayakawapartner]

weirdo!!!!

very tired but thinking about my silly csm oc…

[joculatrixster]

HOLY SHIT YOU'RE INTO SLAY THE PRINCESS... idk if this was asked already it's been so long cough but who are your favorite Voices, Vessels and endings of this game? Tell me all about what you love about them and the game in general.

i llove the game! been following it since the first demo actually!! i have been a fan of tma for a while so when i saw Jonathan Sim was the narrator i was intrigued, i watched manlynaasshero(shout out, also got m into the purrfect games which fun fact i had the top blog for until i delted it) play the demos but played it for real w the pristine cut, i did a full playthrough w a friend w multiple endings and alt routes but i havent done everything yet since ive been busy w other games-

ok so my favorites lets seee...

i definitely have a big paraniod, sceptic, and cold bias, they r just sooooo like oh my god im squishing them and wringing them out like rags.

paraniod bc the nightmare was my kinda "the real slay the princess starts here" ending allll the way back in the demo, the fucking heart liver lunges thing? i did it on beat the entire playthrough w my friend, i thoguht and still think its such a banger addition to what could be a one note character showing how hes Preservation Instincts not just Paranioa, he stemms from a defense mechanism like all the others and is always the one in our corner even if he doesnt rlly Want To do All that

sceptic bc hes just kinda? fucking cool? his name makes u think of the paraniod or chested, u think he just questions everything or maybe is a bit snarky but actually hes more like that toxic older brother who does whats "best for u" even if it hurts u??? like he refuses to accept their happy ending, one of the few voices who goes AGAINST Preservation simply bc he doesnt fuck w the idea of being a puppet but also lacks the real wish to cause harm like the stubborn or the oppertunist(who i would argue PREFERS endings where harm is caused bc it makes him feel more in control a la the dragon but thats for another day) hes literally just selfishness in its truest form he does whats best for LQ but not whats right for him.

cold is si damn cool. hes the most hesrtless route but he votes to save LQ, he follows the narrators whims to the letter but he chooses the option thats the most interesting even if it goes agisnt what anyone else wanted, hes lowkey suidical but only out of bordem?? he also goes against the best intrest but what even Is His Intrest? ud think a voice born from a cold hearted slaughter like him would be well...cold hearted? but hes lowkey not? hes muted, sure, and pretry monotone but he does things not due to cold hard logic nor due to what is objectively the best for LQ but bc of personal intrest or disinterest w the actions others take. him and the smitten r in my head like kinda opposite forces of burning passion and extinguished empathy but both of them do what they want and not what LQ needs???? sceptic is selfish but he at least puts LQ first even if in doing so he seizes LQ's autonamy, cold just does what brings the most new experiences which again is Crazy from the guy born of monotone motions but also makes complete sense

contriarian too tbh is another big one but thats bc its so charming that he could be there for the ending just. randomly, yhere, and me and my friend got the stranger first bc they r a bastard like that soo our "true" princess was her and her 5(i counted!) headed glory. he even stood up for us for the bit when everyone else wanted to stab us, what a stand up guy lol

favorite vessel is the sprit hands down, she is the cloest one to understanding the LQ and i had a viseral reaction of crindgw and discomfort playing through the princess and the dragon(can u tell its my favorite route yet?) seeing her perspective and seeing how she is willing to literally forgive her killer of she just gets a taste of the freedom denied to her in life(and he kills her, and she is just. how should she feel? tried? hurt? angry? she forgives him, bc what else can she even do?)

dude i fucking loooove meta narrstives and warped characters in eldritch places, this was a specifc list of niche narrative intrests that all came together to make the PERFECT game exploring the themes of the narrative! the only issue is im so fucked i cant even make any games like this anymore bc it just will never be stp...never ever...the art the music the writing all 100/10 literally changed my brain chemistry its so fantastic!!! every voice every vessel every dialouge option just captivated me like a toddler and cocomelon it was talior made to make MY nerouns activate so much

[fumifooms]

I literally just revived my tumblr so I can like and follow along with your dunmesh analysis. Thank you so so so soooooo much for making chilchuck's master post bc I've been searching far and wide on how to cope from little no info in the manga ending, like EVERYTHING abt his wife and much less his daughters. It was a great half day reading for me and all the tidbits of your hc just makes me squee, giggle, and kick feet now and then. My question is the extra drawing kui-san post of halfoots portrait and one that look like chil's wife canon?? Like confirmed? most post online saying its official (even wiki) but I can't find the sauce on it

Thank you this makes me so happy to hear!! u//_//u This made me rush to the wiki in fear but no it actually explains the situation well- I did have a hand in editing her wiki about the topic of her appearance a while back so I was worried for a hot sec gdbdg

It's not confirmed or canon, and left intentionally so. I show the translated quote and link the QnA source here for easing finding. It's simply a popular fanon theory because it has some support. Notably the daughters' appearances like stated, but also the chapter 52 cover showing a kid that looks suspiciously like Chilchuck with a kid that looks suspiciously like her, and also because Kui has a tendency to fill the portrait pages with background characters, like all the tallmen portraits, so it sounds like her to sneak something like this in.

I do really like this, I've talked about it before but I do think she left it ambiguous for story and theme reasons too. Chilchuck has a thing for blonde women, so is his wife blonde or not? Left up to everyone's opinions. Seems unlikely to me, and I love the themes of his wife not being blonde but still having facial features like his succubi's soo much, what's acquired taste and what isn't? But hey anyone who wants to theorize she looks more like Marcille's self-insert as a half-foot sure can! The story gives us very little details on what actually happened on purpose, because people would get caught up in their heads about "she should have left him" and "she shouldn't have left him" and "she should forgive him and take him back" or "he doesn't deserve her forgiveness" and it's not about that! It's not the what his arc's about, it's not what it's trying to say! Do they reconcile or not? Who knows! How much do they still love each other? How much did he neglect her for her to have left like that? Some even take the possibility of her not being blonde if true as proof he's a shitty husband that looks for eyecandy elsewhere and just! So much judgement so many biases that the story is trying to avoid, to offer a fresh slate to nudge the readers towards what the focus should be.

The goal is ambiguity, the goal is not knowing- because only then can you put yourself in Chilchuck and Marcille's shoes for their arc. Only then can you put yourself in Marcille's shoes theorizing about her and trying to gauge whether she's being too charitable or not hopeful enough, only then can you put yourself in Chilchuck's shoes where he doesn't know why she left, where he doesn't know if he still has a chance to win her back. Does he? Who knows! But that's not important, the point is that after canon he's learned that the risk of shooting his shot, of fighting for his love, is worth it, if there's even a chance that it could work out then it's worth the possible price of rejection and the terrifying horror of vulnerability. Being hopeful, the value Chilchuck needed to learn, requires not knowing the outcome, so the story forces it upon us, even with meta. Chilchuck is a man who has assumed the worst out of everyone and the world for so long, who consistently spoke confidently about how if something can go wrong it will, so him learning to let go of that pessimism as a defense coping mechanism into embracing uncertainty is actually huge! And it's that same lack of closure readers must learn to make their peace with, just as he has.

[aleenya]

sharing a little bit more of my steins;gate mtg deck bc im having a lot of fun with it and to be cringe is to be free

context: these are all mtg proxies. ive changed nothing mechanically except the card names or flavor text (some i need to tidy up or format better tho.)

i wanted to prioritize thematics above all else so most of the cards come from the dr who sets!! (which are so banger omg. suspend is a great mechanic.) if ur interested in the full deck feel free to pm me, im happy to share! it still needs some editing/reworking but its fully playable and legal as is

commanders

so these are the commanders. kurisu (clara proxy) is scarily good bc whenever an activated ability triggers on a doctor (all the doctor cards are mostly just world-line variations of hououin kyouma/okabe LOL) then it triggers a second time. and that gets ridiculous fast 🧍

hououin kyouma (tenth dr proxy) is great bc he gets cards into suspend, the mechanic this deck is built around. when cards are in suspend, they're considered 'exiled' and have time counters on them that tick down every upkeep. once there's no more time counters on those cards, you play them for free. He can also time travel (bc of course) which can either add or remove time counters. hes honestly a lot of fun, i love the lil combo this pairing has!! and i love the thematic element that kurisu just makes okabe better bc its true jfghdhdhdh

see more below!

creature highlights

ignore the fact that mr braun is an alien rhino soldier i just had to have this card in my deck bc i thought it was funny LMAO

i also have other wordline variations of suzuha and all the lab mems <3

spells/instants highlights

one thing: all of history all at once + rousing refrain = insanity

i have no defense for grapeshot i just really wanted the cg of mayuri with the gun in my deck KGHXDH

enchantments highlights

artifacts highlights

i have a lot more artifacts (including the time machine and a lot of the future gadgets, like moad snake, which gives protection from all creatures for a turn.) round table and the moment are thematically fun tho - and of course obligatory ibn 5100.

wincons

wincons are cards where, if i fulfill a certain condition, i win the game! i play mtg very casually and just for fun, so i dont like infinite combos or anything like that. but i thought for s;g it'd be fitting to have some slow-burn win conditions that i slowly build up towards. one is Gates. Gates are special lands from the baldur's gate set; i've reworked them in my deck to either be different s;g locations or worldlines (like alpha, beta etc) and then finally i have the steins;gate card (proxy of maze's end) where if i have at least ten gates in play and then play that, i win. it's a verrryyy slow burn wincon tho and i've only pulled it off once, so it's not very reliable. but its fucking thematic and thats all i care about LMAO

and then the other wincon is the Divergence Meter which is also super slow. if i can at least get the time counters on it to 500, then double to 1000, its pretty much an autowin B) but again, getting it to that point is difficult and takes a while. which i find very fitting

thank u for coming to my deeply autistic presentation. am i slightly deranged for doing this? mayhaps ... but my love for steins;gate knows no bounds </3

[deftinesia]

Hello deft! I'm glad your procedure went smoothly and I hope you are currently doing well!

I wanted to say I LOVE RISK, like genuinely its the most well written, best, interesting fanfic I have ever read. And I absolutely LOVE your rambles about it, I go back every once in a while just to read them and find out little details and extra info regarding it <3

And yes I DO have a question. I wanted to ask about the interrogation scene in Diego’s mansion, and, does Reader herself even know what happened or did she just “disassociate” during the entire scene? That’s what I initially thought due to her bad psychology trauma and how everything around her was *silently* affecting her, but I started considering that maybe it was just one of those things that she decided to push to the back of her mind and not acknowledge it. Like she’s done many other times (*Ahem* Hassan’s interrogation) So does she know what happened, and just chooses not to think about it?

Please do bare with me though, sometimes my reading comprehension drops to zero, so this could be a question with an answer implied right in the fic.

That’s it! Again, I hope you’re well, remember to not push yourself! <3

hello luv ! thank u <3 i’m still slightly bruised and tender, but overall quite well !!!

i love writing rambles. not only do i get to expand upon the characters and overall story, but they’re a good writing exercise haha. CW psychological trauma and dissociation for the long ramble below *⁀➷

⊹

the answer to your question is no ! she doesn’t remember anything that happened after corporal núñez was shot by diego and before she was patted down by the cartel guard aka alejandro outside the elevator. however, she is an extremely unreliable narrator (as is ghost, but he is less so) she also has things she needs to hide from herself and others. i’ll dive into this more in a bit.

the line does blur, but i hope writing reader as a simultaneously intentional and unintentional unreliable narrator doesn’t perpetrate harmful misconceptions about dissociation. i don’t want to portray that it’s purposeful, turned off and on, that it isn’t a genuine involuntary response to trauma, etc. there is a distinction between reader intentionally misleading the audience & distorting the narrative versus her suffering from trauma and experiencing dissociation as a result (and mental health issues) which are an undeniable part of her life, how she sees the world, and how she’s survived this long. a tangent / side note, but i just had to put that disclaimer out there !!!!!

depending on the level of stress, violence, and/or trauma, reader may experience dissociation: depersonalization, derealization, and or localized amnesia-like symptoms. memories may be fragmented. there could be bits and pieces of conversation she remembers. vague impressions of her surroundings. a fog, or a distant awareness of memories in the distance but she can’t quite reach out and grab them. sometimes it’s her on “autopilot” and sometimes it’s a short-term lapse of time of minutes or hours. seldom longer.

leading up to the interrogation scene in diego’s mansion, she was already experiencing some level of dissociation. this, plus the extreme violence witnessed, and the overall stress of her situation (needing to provide valeria more intel in order to get out of there alive) compounded with the triggering thought of a certain individual resulted in a gap in her memory. she has no control over this as it’s a defense mechanism she developed due to severe and repeated trauma. it’s her brain protecting itself. it’s important to note dissociation in general isn’t always caused by trauma, but we’re talking about her specifically.

when she’s “pushing things to the back of her mind” it’s not dissociation. it may seem somewhat similar, however, this is reader knowingly blocking out or detaching herself from unwanted thoughts and the emotions stemming from them. i’ve described it in chapter 20: “promises” as her forcing unpleasant feelings into a box smothered by a pretty bow, shoved somewhere to be forgotten. this requires a level of awareness about what she’s avoiding. circling back to her intentionally misleading the audience & distorting the narrative, it’s precisely what i mentioned above. it’s her knowingly detaching, lying, misconstruing, blocking out, or not acknowledging certain things to herself and others for whatever reason (we’ll eventually find out). one reason being the obvious: she’s unable to handle it.

don’t worry, it’s not your reading comprehension luv ! this is kinda meant to make you ask these questions and even second guess yourself. as with pretty much everything in this fic, it’s up for interpretation. i do hope i explained this well enough !!! (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) y’all know i tend to ramble on and on and go on tangents [sigh] </3 pls excuse any possible spelling errors !

⊹