#or else no memory and also they become more dangerous

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

stuck in the what-if spiral 😭

[7nuh]

MR. CRAWLING YANDERE HEADCANONS !

CW 𓂃 gn!reader, gaslighting, canon-typical violence

AN 𓂃 ik i said i'd have HCs for all of them but this ended up being too long so... 🧍‍♀️ also unedited bc i have an exam later ill be back to edit this later pls

Mr. Crawling is the protective type. He spends half of the entire game following you wherever you go and going through great lengths to protect you from the other residents of these cursed apartments. However, I can see how that protectiveness can get twisted in the long run when you remain completely helpless and unable to defend yourself. Mr. Crawling would have no choice but to step in and make decisions for you instead because he cannot afford to lose you just like that.

Out of all the homicipher men, mr. Crawling is the one who has the most respect for your choices and boundaries. He leaves when you tell him to, patiently guides you throughout this maze, and comforts you when you are upset— and he's never violent unless threatened.

Such a sweet and gentle guy would never hurt you intentionally. He loves you too much to hurt you.

That being said, though he'll never intentionally hurt you, he doesn't realize it whenever he's being possessive and suffocating you instead. After all, having wandered these halls for so long has desensitized him to violence and made him forget all his human memories. Simply put, his concept of love is warped in its own way. He doesn't understand nor remember how to healthily love another person by societal standards, but he (usually) means well.

He may not understand love but he knows one thing for sure— you're very precious to him. You're so full of life, so kind (to him), and so persistent to find your way home despite everything. Everyone else just kind of does their own thing around there... but you need him. You give him purpose and he's ready to give himself up for you in return.

But as much as he respects you, he knows you sometimes don't know any better. You almost got yourself killed multiple times despite his numerous warnings, and he's not confident you completely understand him just yet. So whenever he feels as though something got lost in translation, he won't hesitate to push you aside or cover for you in that instance. Thankfully, you can now regenerate your limbs.

You don't know any better. This sentiment becomes a mantra that repeats itself in his head over and over again. The two of you haven't made any significant progress on finding an exit, but you've almost died more than a dozen times by now. How are you supposed to survive without him?

What even is your home like? How can he be sure that you aren't going to get yourself killed over there too? Can he follow you there too to protect you? Can't you just stay here with him instead? Would that be so terrible? Of course he wants you to find whatever you're looking for...! it's just that...

The thought of losing you only intensifies his anxiety and over-protectiveness. Whether by departure or death, he cannot stand to be apart from you. Why are you so eager to leave this place anyway?

Mr. Crawling is gentle, but love can force him to be violent. He's not as cruel as the rest, but it doesn't mean he won't be when you're put in danger, especially when his possessiveness and overprotectiveness spiral out of control. He doesn't want to restrict you in any way because he loves and respects you too much to do that, but you just keep getting yourself in trouble. He overcompensates and goes overboard instead trying to protect you, even if it means killing someone.

And the thought of you moving on and forgetting him depresses him. He knows you had a life before this, but he wants a life with you in it. He'll be selfish just this once, but never again. He'll make sure you're safe here you so don't worry about that! Just don't leave him. Just stay with him, please.

It starts little by little. He starts telling you to rest more often and misleading you farther away from the elevator. Sometimes, when you tell him to leave you alone, he pretends not to understand you anymore. When he sees that dreaded green light from a distance, he tells you there is something malicious up ahead. In times like these, he's glad you're so blindly trusting of every word he says. It's difficult for him to watch your resolve break down, but it's for the best. When you're with him, you're safe and that all that's matters.

I can see some of the others like Ms. Bride and Mr. Silvair being in on it. Ms. Bride is very excited that her wedding garments will be used for their actual purpose this time whereas Mr. Silvair finds your unconventional relationship an interesting area of study. Whenever you find yourself 'lost' (escape from Mr. Crawling), they will redirect you back to him.

Eventually, you do give up. Maybe you even become more monstrous by the day and accept that you're better off here. He loved your persistence, but maybe he can show you giving up and that staying here isn't so bad. After all, you have him. He makes sure to be extra affectionate and cuddly after you give up <3

You'll learn to accept it, won't you? For him? Whatever's beyond those elevator doors can't possibly be better than being loved unconditionally and safe within his arms. You're even free to be yourself down here! You can be as violent as you want, and Mr. Crawling will happily watch you bludgeon someone to death on the sidelines with nothing but adoration.

Alternatively, if you do find your way home, he WILL follow you whether you like it or not. But if you don't want him there... well, do expect a few inconveniences. Whatever it takes to convince you to let him stay or to convince you to come back, really. Maybe like blood on the walls spelling 'me love you' and 'me miss you' or a cold pair of arms wrapping around your waist at night.

[strangler-fish]

Todays bugs: Scott and Cleo! I love the designs for these two funky little guys

Info and doodles under the cut

Cleo is a sculptor/taxidermist, and Scott is a seamstress/ex-scrapper

(By taxidermist, I mean that she essentially puts the bodies of the dead back together to memorialize them. It’s a common practice for people to have those kind of ‘dead statues’ instead of burying the fallen, since graves take up too much land. I can explain more if you’re interested)

Pearl used to be a part of their group before she left to join Gem and Impulse, and although she didn’t mean to, it kinda left their relationship a bit rocky. They don’t outright hate Pearl, but they’d probably avoid her if given the choice

(Doodle of them before they split up)

The reason why Cleo doesn’t just fall apart is because most of her cracks have been sealed or somewhat fixed. But they weren’t healed perfectly, so it left the cracks behind as scars. It also slightly discolored the porcelain around it. Her most notable crack is the one near her waist, where a part of her is physically missing. (Fun fact! They’re mostly hollow inside!)

Scott used to be a scrapper before becoming a seamstress(he mainly quit because of the danger associated with the job). During that time, he got into an accident where a piece of rebar impaled him in the eye, and destroyed the entire area. Miraculously, he survived. Now he has a ‘donor eye,’ which- to simplify- is someone else’s eye melded onto him. It works the same as donor limbs- if it’s attached correctly, it works good as new.

Bonus flower husbands doodle

[nerdygirlramblings]

omegaverse 141

a/n part of this once again inspired by @dragonnarrative-writes and their comment on a previous chapter. also, if you have ideas for a title, that'd be great 😂

cw: a/b/o dynamics and typical omegaverse breeding (m! and f! omegas can get pregnant) mentioned

previous

In the interim between your meeting with Captain Price and dinner with the task force you call your family pack. You know your moms and dad will give you their honest opinions, and right now you want that more than anything.

"Hey pretty girl," Dad says when he picks up the video call. "Everything okay? You usually don't call on a weekday unless we've planned it." For a moment you simply take in his smile and the way he's trying to reassure you.

You deflect. "How are you feeling, Dad?" He's carrying another litter, and after losing the last two, you know how important it is to everyone that this one is successful.

"Your moms have pretty much put me on bed rest," he says, rolling his eyes. "But you called us, honey, what's going on?"

You sigh. This is what you called them for. "Well, I wanted your opinion on something," you tell him.

"Just my opinion, or do you want the moms' too?"

You tell him you want everyone's opinion, so he moves through your childhood home to where your moms are, each room he passes drawing forth another bittersweet memory that has you missing him and your pack even more.

He finds your moms in your childhood bedroom, being transformed into a nursery, again. He sits on the rocking chair you remember, the one that floated between the three kids' bedrooms each time there was a new litter. Once your moms are standing behind Dad, you tell everyone about the offer to join Price's task force, and by extension his pack.

The more you tell them, the more your mind snags on how appealing being part of a pack is. But you can't help but be scared of the implications of that desire. Despite how Price laid things out, it's going to be hard enough to prove you're worthy of being on the 141, and if you become part of their pack, you'll never escape the talk about sleeping your way on the task force.

Your parents can tell your mind is somewhere else when you hear Mum insert your name into Bowie's "Space Oddity."

"Sorry, Mum. Wha' was i'?"

"I was just saying this - the task force, I mean - sounds like a great career opportunity. But I can't abide how much more danger this puts you in."

Mama adds, "Sounds like this alpha knew how to broach this. Didn't cock it up. And I agree with Mum, this is much more dangerous than what yer doing now. But sweetie, ya didn't see yerself when ya talked about what this would mean ta ya. And what doors it might open for other omegas like your brother."

You tear up. Both your moms see this for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity it is. You notice no one's mentioned the other half of Price's offer. "Dad?" you prompt, "Wha' da you think?"

Dad watches you for a few minutes, smiling but sad: you can see it in his eyes. "I think you need to say yes, honey. Even if it scares us more, i's the right thing fer you." Your moms don't chime in; they don't need to. But you need want their thoughts on becoming a pack omega, Dad's in particular.

"And the other part?" you ask quietly, looking away.

"Honey, becoming pack omega fer yor moms was one of the hardest and easiest decisions I ever made. I love yer moms," you watch their faces through his declaration, both putting a comforting hand somewhere on him, "and they gave me all of you pups. If Price is as good an alpha as he is a Captain, if 'e's a guiding hand for his pack, then you couldn't have a better mate. In the end, trust your omega."

And that's the crux of the matter isn't it. Your omega has been scratching at your hind brain all afternoon because she wants to take Price up on both offers as soon as possible, but you need to be smart about optics and your career.

You tell your parents you love them and thank them for their honesty, promising to tell them what you decide before the ink dries. You end the call with a few minutes to spare before dinner and take that time to pull your emotions together.

next

[madaqueue]

SUCK HIS...GLOCK?!

the sensationalized bullshit around some dangerous serial killer tormenting the city is honestly pathetic. so no, you don't see the point in changing your routine, because you aren't a coward like everyone else. that is, until one wrong turn brings you face to face with him.

pairing: serial killer!toji x f!reader

themes/content: dark content (gunplay, dubcon). smut. petnames (pretty, doll, slut), mentions of past murders, teasing, reader is kind of mean to toji lmao, begging, licking/deepthroating a gun, oral (m!receiving). 18+, MDNI (wk: 2.0k)

a/n: i would match his freak (he would literally kill me) (also sorry this title is so stupid but it made me laugh hahahaha)

quintober masterlist | sign up form

“There’s a serial killer on the loose!”

Everyday for the past week the message had been drilled into your mind - every news station, every text from your parents, every thought from the general public seemed to vibrate in sheer terror at the mere idea of some illusive murderer. And yet, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the theatrics.

A serial killer, seriously?

You thought everyone outgrew this overdramatic bullshit when they turned thirteen or something. The fact that not even fully grown adults dared to go outside out of fear just solidified how truly pathetic everyone had become.

So, you take the opportunity for what it is, boots echoing along the empty streets as you enjoy a barren town. Dead leaves blow along the sidewalk in front of you, scurrying out of your path. It’s a nice day, you think, the breeze tickling your skin and the sun warm despite the autumn chill settling in. Of course you weren’t going to miss it, your footsteps falling louder and more determined with each step.

Because you weren’t a coward.

A particularly cold wind brushes past you, the muscles in your legs shivering on instinct. Reaching into your jacket to check the time, you find your pockets empty save for a few hair ties and a small wad of cash. The image of your phone resting on your kitchen counter flashes across your memory for a moment as you silently grumble at your own forgetfulness.

But it’s no matter, you’ll just head straight home. Everything will be fine, you reassure yourself in an effort to shove down the growing nervousness in your stomach.

Rounding the corner, your vision catches an alleyway you’ve seen a few times on walks home with friends. Surely, that would get you home even faster, a real stroke of fate. Your feet stall for a second as you gaze down it, the darkness of surrounding buildings casting a haunting shadow. Taking a steadying breath, you will yourself forward.

Because you aren’t a coward.

Shoving your hands further into the worn material of your pockets, your shoes land heavily on the uneven cobblestone. A water droplet falls on your shoulder from one of the broken pipes overhead, and you grimace. This town gets shittier every year. That pit in your stomach is back, but sheer determination carries you onward.

Because you aren’t afraid.

In an instant, the sigh that had been building in your lungs is forced out as your cheek is shoved into the crumbling brick lining the alley.

Rough hands encircle your wrists, pinning them against your back.

The weight of someone much larger presses into you from behind.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ walkin’ all by yourself?” His voice is almost impossibly low, carrying the teasing lilt of thunder before lightning. “Haven’t you heard there’s a serial killer running around?”

The rock in your stomach lodges in your throat as he laughs, hot puffs of air hitting your neck.

Trying to gauge your odds, you crane your head to get a view of him, roughly scraping your skin against the reddened clay. Just as your eyes manage to catch the dark cloth of his shirt, something presses to your forehead.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, doll,” he preempts. The gun in his hand trails lower, landing between your eyes, the cool metal making you shudder. “I would hate to have to hurt ya.”

Your mouth is dry as ideas course through your mind, running through scenarios to escape this fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in. “I-I have money! You can have it, if you let me go!”

He just chuckles again, and you swear you see a glimpse of a scar at the corner of his lips, adding it to a mental note of anything to help you identify him later. “Oh sweetheart, you can’t actually think I’m doing this for the money, do you?”

Your thoughts stall for a moment. “B-but…but why then…?”

Leaning towards you, his face is now only inches from your own. The scent of tobacco lingers on his breath. “Because I like to see the fear in someone’s eyes when they know they’re gonna die.”

You can’t stop the smirk spreading across your lips. You know it’s stupid - you shouldn’t taunt the fucking murderer holding a gun to your head - but you almost want to laugh.

“Seriously?” Your throat is scratchy as you stifle a chuckle. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

This time, he doesn’t stop you when you turn to face him.

“What, are you making eye contact with every single person you kill? You have a fucking gun, dude - are you really sitting there, this close, waiting for them to die? Or is that just some line you say to make people afraid, to try and make them beg for mercy?”

That scar shifts as his mouth twitches. Just as he inhales to respond, you continue.

“Oh, I get it! I bet that’s what you get off on, right? The begging?”

His eyebrows quirk, adjusting his position so green eyes stare back at you, mischief dancing behind them. “What if it is? Are you gonna beg me not to kill you if I tell ya that’s what it takes?”

The silver of his gun catches in the flickering sun as your gaze falls upon it. You look to it, then to him, then back to it.

Now, you know what it really takes to get you out of this. Because at the end of the day, he’s just some guy who got a weapon and a bit too much confidence. Sure, maybe he killed those people, but it’s only because they were too stupid to figure it out.

Men like him don’t want some pathetic little bug to crush under their shoe. If he did, he would’ve shot you already.

He wants someone to tell him ‘no,’ to shove around his ego a little. Someone to play with him.

Oh, and you’ll play.

Because you, unlike all those other scared little babies, aren’t a coward.

“I don’t have to fucking beg.”

Green eyes shine like poison as they watch your movements - your neck tilting, lips parting, tongue poking between them. Licking a slow stripe up the barrel of his gun, the taste of metal and dirt coats your senses.

When you reach the top, he lets out a groan, one that morphs into a breathy laugh.

“Well, isn’t today just my lucky day.” His scar delves into the creases of his mouth as he smirks. “Wonder what good deed I did to be rewarded with such a pretty little slut.”

Fucking pathetic.

You want to laugh at him, the predictability - it’s almost overused at this point, you think. The scary serial killer who just wants to get his dick wet, you’re practically quaking in your boots.

But instead of pointing out how boring his whole cliche is, you allow your eyelashes to flutter closed, taking the chamber further past your lips.

It’s cool against the heat of your mouth, tracing the crevices of it with your tongue.

You wonder if this is actually what he used to kill all those people - it almost tastes too clean to be a true murder weapon. Like he ran it through the mud on his way here to try and make his little act seem all the more convincing. Clearly, it didn’t work.

From behind, you feel something poke into your ass. Something hard. Using his weight to push you further into the bricks, his hips grind against you, his growing cock dragging along the curves of your body.

You gasp reflexively at the sensation, eyes shooting open only to be met with his locked on your face, dark hair falling over his forehead.

“Some fuckin’ mouth on you, heh.” It’s like you can watch the gears turning in his mind. “Let’s see what else it can do.”

Sensation begins returning to your wrists when they’re released from his bruising grip. It takes nothing more than a heavy palm on your head for you to land on your knees, rubble shifting beneath your jeans.

All too predictable.

With your newly freed hands, you make quick work of undoing his belt, tugging his waistband down to reveal his cock. It’s thick, flushed and hot in the cold autumn air.

From this angle, you can see the way he sparkles against the sky. Excitement vibrates his nerves as he leans forward, resting a forearm along the brick above your head. The muzzle’s cold metal presses into your temple, but it barely even phases you at this point, melting into the warmth of your skin.

You lick your lips at the way he twitches, watching you drag your palms up his thighs. One hand slowly wraps around his base as you place his tip between your lips, and the man above you moans.

You almost, almost, let a giggle slip.

Isn’t he supposed to be the one threatening to kill you?

And now, you’ve literally got his balls in one hand, the pistol in his fist dropped to his side.

Fucking hell, is this really all it took?

Some serial killer.

You continue pumping his length as you lightly lick the precum pooling along his slit, letting the salty taste linger on your tastebuds. Whatever, you’ll do what you have to do to get out of this.

But it’s not a crime to have a little fun with him, right?

Your tongue swirls around his tip before you take him further, pushing past the ring of muscles lining your throat. He lets out a choked gasp of, “Fuck,” and the rasp in his voice almost makes your pussy clench. Almost.

Taking him deeper and deeper, you can tell he’s getting close from the way he’s starting to thrust his hips forward, little by little.

But now, it’s your turn to play with him.

Pulling your mouth away, you admire the way his cock bounces as he whines at the loss of your warmth.

This time, you don’t stifle your smirk.

The palm wrapped around his base continues stroking him slowly, almost too slowly.

“W-what the fuck do you think yer-”

“Beg.”

His parted lips nearly fold into a frown, eyebrows furrowed in some mix of confusion and frustration. But you didn’t stutter.

“C’mon now, mister ‘serial killer.’ If you wanna cum, you know what you’ve gotta do.”

Sliding up and down his base, you pump him in pace with his ragged breaths.

Between his ribs, his heart races. “Y’know I could fucking kill you.”

And your eyes glimmer, your pace slowing. A silent challenge.

But you won’t.

He tosses his head back, the muscles in his thick neck contracting as he swallows.

“F-fucking - fine. Jesus, fine, whatever.”

Shifting your weight, your thighs rub together in excitement. The silver of his gun flashes as he raises it to his head, scratching the back of his scalp with the muzzle in an attempt to diffuse the growing tension inside him.

“Make me finish already, doll.”

“Aww,” you coo, squeezing his heavy balls in your free hand. A shiver runs up his spine. “That’s not exactly asking, now is it?”

He hides his pleasure behind annoyance as he groans. “Just - fucking, make me cum already.” You bat your eyelashes at him, and he grumbles something under his breath. “Please.”

“See, was that so hard?” you hum, pleased. “Even serial killers can have some manners.”

Taking him back into your mouth, you trace the veins of his shaft with your tongue, just as you did with the barrel of his gun. Each ridge, following its path up and down.

Something metal clammors onto the ground behind you, but you pay it little mind. Two hands wrap around your head, holding you in place.

“Fuck, just like that,” he moans. “Fuckin’ take it.”

His balls twitch as he releases into you, hot liquid pouring down your throat.

As you swallow, the palms on your scalp release their tension. Looking up at him with wide eyes, you wipe the spit from the corners of your mouth.

He rubs his face with his forearm, a smirk plastered across his lips, that cute little scar decorating the corner. Beside you, something reflective catches your eye - his gun, laying abandoned on the ground.

Some fucking serial killer.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hey, i really enjoyed reading your angst drabbles and i was thinking if you could write something like Viktor neglecting reader and all her attempts to be close to him again, and when she decides to give up on him, she almost die in the council room explosion, after he stood her up again, leaving her in some state of coma. then he regret everything, after all she should’ve been with him…

sorry if i made some mistakes, english is not my first language but im trying my best! 🫶🏻

Ah yes, more angst *laughs maniacally in several cups of coffee and severe need to make ppl cry* also your English is perfect, no need to apologise sweetie. Also! This is extremely long cuz I got carried away. Hope you enjoy tho! 🫶🫶

You adored Viktor greatly, for to you there was not a man who could match his brilliance and his resilience, his determination to see everything that he’s put his whole heart and soul into this hextech project through. Everything about him was enticing to you from his dream to better the lives of others, the twinkle in his amber eyes when he had made a scientific breakthrough, not to mention the way he became more animated and eager to talk as he spoke about it; he sounded more alive then ever before which you loved for him.

However what once brought you happiness would eventually become your downfall for as of recent memories as tensions between Piltover and Zaun heightened to a dangerous degree, Viktor had more or less had secluded himself to the lab from the early hours of the morning, rarely to come out for anything or anyone. Gone were the days where you’d see him in the hallways of the academy, blessing you with his beautiful smile as his amber eyes only seemed to glow within your presence in familiarity, offering a short greeting in passing but the recognition of your existence by him was more then a full length conversation with him would have given you.

He left your peripheral vision with nothing to remind you of moment, nothing but a flutter within your chest that’s warm and suffocating as the same time. Now you were left disappointed to ever think that you could recapture that moment again, such like a love sick individual who was detached from all forms of reality that didn’t have him in it. Times were changing and not for the better, for everyone was on edge with what was to come and the tension was so thick you could cut into it with a knife and anticipation hung heavy over everyone, dreadfully awaiting an attack with baited breath and clenched fists in an attempt of bravery in the face of adversity.

Gone were the brief glimpses you’d get of him from the corner of your eyes, leaving you to believe whether or not you did in fact see him or just someone who wore similar clothing. You’d sometimes catch him in the act of waving at you when he was in a hurry or -when he had time to spare- even making himself welcome to the unoccupied seat besides you in the library, looking over your mountain of books with a raised brow and sarcasm upon his lips.

‘You planning to read them all in one go or?’ He’d say, making you scoff as a smile blossomed across your face as you looked into his eyes, finding that they were already on you.

‘Yeah because that’s a completely plausible thing for a person with a simple mind could accomplish.’ You replied with your own form of sarcasm as your smile widens at the sound of his laugh, gladly to have made such a heavenly sound emerge from his mouth. You two would remain in those same seats until it was time to part ways once again, bidding each other farewells as the days drew to a close and you’d leave for home when Viktor would stay overtime in his lab.

Now you don’t see him at all. Your head would perk up at the sound your mind has made you believe was the soft love tap of a cane against wooded floor, only to have your heart clench and mind belittling you when it wasn’t anywhere near Viktor coming into the library but someone else entirely. You were left with a table littered with books and an empty seat besides you, now cold and devoid of the man who’d always sit there and let his thoughts flow freely and bluntly out of his mouth, and yet you’d much prefer that over the deafening silence that greeted you for the past months as the realisation of how cold and miserable you were without Viktor to make your day complete.

You use to frequent the lab more so then your own office just to see Viktor in the past. So much so that Viktor had left a spare chair by his workbench for you to sit on, letting you linger as he worked and never uttering a single word as you were too entranced by the ways his fingers moved and how his facial expressions fluidly moved from one another, it almost like they were telling a silent story of his emotions of his successes and failures within the project. From the highs and lows, the triumphs of learning something new, to the challenges that left dark bags under his eyes from all the late nighters he’s been pulling to at least achieve something in the midst of all the chaos.

Now the warmth that once filled you as you entered the lab felt cold, like you were intruding on something you shouldn’t have. Your once place of refuge had become a place you didn’t recognise as you immediately noticed the lack of the chair you once sat on, it’s location wasn’t a concern of yours more so than the ache within your heart at the seemingly small act. However for such an act as small as removing a spare chair from a workbench you felt as though this was a sign that your presence was no longer a welcomed one; you had become a distraction and in the worse kind to Viktor, and thus your chair had been taken away, signifying that those warm days of human connection had long since overstayed it’s welcome.

‘Viktor?’ You called out but not once did he show signs of recognition towards your voice nor bothered to look up from his work that meant so much to him nowadays. You didn’t know which hurt more, the lack of response or the idea that you were nowhere as dear to his heart as he was to yours at all, however you still smiled through the ache within your chest in hopes that it was just a delayed response on his part.

Nothing. Viktor didn’t even make an attempt to speak to you and just continued being hunched over his workbench with no intention on stopping, acting as though you were merely just a breeze that passed him by and not a human being he was once close to, begging him to acknowledge you and acknowledge the history between the two of you.

‘How long have you been cooped up in here like a little hermit.’ You tried to attempt a joke that only felt awkward and painful when the Viktor didn’t make a sarcastic quip back towards you. He left you in silence once again as you felt your hope slowly start to die within your chest and your smile began to fade from your lips as your resolve began to waver. You swallows thickly as you tired not to let this get to you and instead believe that he couldn’t hear you, and so you walked closer to him until you rested a hand upon his shoulder, making him stop working for a moment before going back to what he was doing soon after.

‘How long has it been since you slept, eaten anything, or just get some fresh air?’ You asked with concern towards his health and how it seemed that he was driving himself down into the ground for academic validation for his work. ‘Why don’t you take a break and take some time away from-‘

‘Not everyone has the luxury of time on their hands.’ Viktor cuts you off but not in the way you’d hope. His words cut through you, making you flinch away from him from the bitter tone that came from him as though he burnt you. ‘They need help now and I won’t allow any further distractions to hinder me from doing so.’ He adds and it obviously felt very pointed towards you as if you were the problem he now faced and you couldn’t help but get a little upset over this.

‘And kill yourself in the process? Who’s going to help them when you’re dead Viktor because it’s sure as hell not me!’ You bit back as you moved back towards the door, finding no point in standing by his side if he was so willing to discard you like you were nothing in the pursuits of science. ‘I’m not going to stand here and watch you lose yourself to your work, I won’t do it.’ You add with certainty but it’s Viktor’s next words that really hurt you despite the softness of his voice, now was sharp as ice and just as piercing.

‘Then don’t bother darkening my door any longer than you already have.’

You stiffened up at this as you felt your heart tore itself in half at the unnecessary hostility thrown towards you as the rift between the two of you had finally made itself known in this moment. The closeness you once shared with Viktor was now an illusion you fell for so willingly, all with the hopes that something more would come from it one day, much like the hopeless romantic that you truly were. However in this moment it was revealed that none of that mattered to him, not as much as it did to you and just as you were about to leave the lab, you looked over at his back and said;

‘Goodbye Viktor. I promise to never be an inconvenience to you ever again since that’s what you wish for.’ And without needing to hear him, you walked out of the lab, shutting the door behind you as you walked down the hall as silent tears fell from your cheeks as you kissed goodbye the one good thing you had left to keep your head above water; however without it you could feel yourself slipping beneath the waves that had threatened to crash over you for a long, long time as you had lost your anchor and you have the angry to care what happens to you.

…

Everything that happened in a matter of seconds. Too fast for anyone to notice what was going on before it was too late and a wave of pain greeted you as you blacked out.

The council was attacked and all signs pointed towards Zaun as the perpetrators.

Viktor was lucky enough to have somehow miraculously survive with the help of the hexcore but you on the other hand were left in a coma from the explosion. All Viktor knew when he came through in his new body was the news that you had could’ve died had you been just a tiny bit closer to bear the brunt of the unforeseen attack. The doctors were overlooking your possibilities of awaking from the coma, they claim that chances of that happening were slim but they believed that you were strong enough to pull through it, not that any of this mattered to Viktor as for all he was aware was that even if you did awake he’d be the last person you wanted to ever see.

He was told that upon being rescued from the rubble you looked like you had already died with the amounts of deep gashes that littered across your face, he got told that you didn’t even look like you were breathing at all, but you looked oddly at peace with the outcome of such a tragedy; as though you were silently suffering inside your own head for a long time and this was you gladly accepting the fate bestowed upon you.

Viktor didn’t know what hurt more, the fact that you could’ve died, or the idea that you were more then willing to have died in the attack then wake in a reality where he had all but pushed you aside. He couldn’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with him anymore, not after trying so hard to get through to him in the past, only for him to retaliate with words that you didn’t deserve. You had every right to never allow him into your life ever again, Viktor didn’t feel he was deserving of a second chance with you, especially not after something as traumatic as almost dying.

Now upon retrospect it would’ve been morbidly poetic had he did die in the attack, his hand reaching towards your own but never truly touching, a reminder that he had severed that connection with you the moment more was demanded of him and of hextech; A once beloved and respected connection that’ll never mend for the damage was already done due to his own hubris.

You deserved more then him and Viktor knew this painfully well enough to continue to drive the wedge between the two of you, all in hopes that you too would see that you were better off in search of something new with someone else, and yet he couldn’t help but cling onto you for himself so selfishly as though he wasn’t the one who caused you pain in favour of staying within the lab to his own devices. Viktor knew he was being ridiculous and he would only be hurting you in the process with his indecision of whether to keep you close by his side, or as far away from him as possible.

Yet everything within him told him to at least visit you, just to be certain that you would be strong enough to emerge from the coma, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that despite how much he wished to see you recover much like you had been bedside for him when his health declined sharply. Viktor remembered the day clear as day as the concern within your eyes shone, and the grip you had on his hand tightened every so often with every inhale and exhale, you didn’t say a single word but you didn’t half to as viktor has taught himself to read you better then most. It was clear that you were afraid but didn’t have the heart to speak up on it, and now he was face with a similar situation.

You were the ache in his heart that he couldn’t be rid of, no matter how much change his body went through, not that he wanted to either and Viktor knew he was the ache within your heart. You two pained each other with your absences, comforted each other’s overthinking minds and gave each other the company you so needed. You needed each other but didn’t at the same time, it was a never ending game with yourself and Viktor as you didn’t know whether to get close to one another or keep the distance between you and pretend that you’re both not hurting when you were.

However Viktor may regret the words he had spoken to you, it doesn’t change fate in the slightest, he was with his commune in the Undercity and you were still in that coma you should’ve awoken from weeks ago. Yet now and then Viktor would find himself looking to his side where he would normally feel you, only to see nothing but thin air and close his eyes as he took a deep breath to compose himself. He regrets everything he said to you but they wouldn’t change the hurt you were both suffering from, Viktor wanted you by his side in that moment but knew he’s better off wishing for that in another life, a life where he chose you.

Now he’ll get to know how sweet that life would be like and the ache within the remains of his heart hurt just that little more, for you, the ache within his him that he couldn’t get rid of but needed all the same to remind himself that he was still the Viktor you once loved.

[lilac-sweet]

My interpretation of all the Solas endings:

I have been wanting to write about this topic for a while, since I’ve seen a lot of criticisms about Solas being out-of-character. IMO all the Solas endings are brilliantly written, and here’s why:

Solas breaks in 3 different ways:

1: Breaks his wisdom (Becomes Pride)

2: Breaks his pride (Becomes Wisdom)

3: Breaks his leash/conviction (Becomes more human)

1: Breaks his wisdom:

Solas has always walked the line between pride and wisdom: unlike pure spirits, he is able to fluctuate between them - just like Mythal with benevolence and retribution. This makes him more “human” and complex: he even instructs Cole in how being a “demon” and being a “spirit” essentially comes down to a choice we make ourselves.

So Solas is clearly aware of his own failings (just look at his name), but his greatest flaw is not changing in accordance with his own awareness. Due to his wisdom, he knows he is prideful, so he constantly asserts that he is NOT a god: this is as much to make others not worship him as the dread wolf, AND as a mantra to himself to keep him from becoming another Elgar’nan.

However, the limelight is an intoxicating thing, and with him choosing to carry the cross as the dread wolf, he invites that prideful corruption into his heart. It is difficult to truly believe you are not more special than everyone else when everyone else keep telling you how you totally are. As a spirit made man, he is still in danger of becoming what others view him as: he mirrors how you treat him in inquisiton, and he took the name of fen’harel (probably uttered by Elgar’nan) as a badge of pride.

We are told he treats everyone as disposable pawns in order to reach his goals, and we also see the truth of this in his memories. Some people argue that this is out of character for him, since he cares deeply for the elven people and their freedom. I don’t think these things are mutually exclusive: he simply rationalizes everything in order to reach his goal of helping the elves: even if that means sacrificing people

The thing that is so chilling about his character is that he was never meant to lead - he never WANTED to lead either: Mythal was the judge, he her advisor. Without her caring heart to guide his brilliant mind, he becomes callous and makes decisions based only on how best to “win”. This is not to say he does not have a heart, but that he believes he has to set it aside for the greater good: which is exactly where his reasons for leading the rebellion/ tearing down the veil and his methods for doing so contradict each other

He ends up losing sight of his initial reasons because the war makes him so calloused. I believe he shuts down emotionally and can not feel anything but apathy towards everyone when he puts on the mask of the dread wolf - as seen in how he treats the inquisitor vs Rook.

By making so many decisions with such dire consequences and not letting himself feel the weight of that (it would break him) he becomes separated from the “pawns” he uses and stops thinking of them as people. The world becomes a chessboard and a game to him, and that is exactly how a god would think.

That is also the reason he becomes so angry at Rook for saying he views himself as a god: he is so afraid of becoming that conceited, but at this point, the thing keeping him sane and keeping the dam of his pride sealed is the mantra: “I am not a god”. He KNOWS the truth of that mantra, but as this point he doesn’t FEEL it, because he has denied himself to feel anything for anyone in order to be able to get rid of them if logic dictates it.

Through his wisdom he understands why it is detrimental to believe yourself a god, and because of this he is in denial of his own feelings on the matter: he acts like a god, feels like a god, yet knows that he would become what he hates most by acknowledging it - that’s why he uses the mantra: it’s his last effort to stay somewhat grounded.

This brings me to the “I AM A GOD” ending. This is where the dam breaks: he finally allows himself to fully embody his mask; his pride; his demonic side.

By losing to Rook and co through force he is forced to admit to himself that he sees Rook and the world as inferior - he is the only one who can make it right and they are all children, who do not understand him (they shunned understanding when they used brutish force) because compared to them he is a GOD. He accepts pride and abandons the wisdom of staying grounded with the people - the people abandoned him so he abandons the people. He becomes what he has feared most becoming (it is also interesting that his biggest fear is to be alone - and a god stands alone in their arrogance).

He is truly lost to his demonic aspect in this ending and the dark colours of the ending picture reflect this. It is not difficult to argue this is the most tragic ending.

2: Breaks his pride:

Most schadenfreude ending in terms of outsmarting Fen’harel: proving to the world AND to Solas he is not a god and that he is not immune to be outsmarted by a mortal

It breaks Solas’ ego to be outsmarted, since his cleverness is his pride. It sets him free from his pride as it was the proof he so desperately needed: the people inhabiting this world are capable of being his equal and besting him at his own game. He is not better than them, or better put: his cleverness is not infallible. You could argue that a romanced Lavellan/ friendly inquisitor has already proven to be his equal in terms of wisdom, but then again, he has never truly been their adversary.

There is a maddening clarity to him when he finally says “and I am a fool”. I find the break of his pride to be heartbreaking: even though we are told it is a demon version of wisdom, we have seen Solas balancing both aspects - and his name also reflects how big a part of him it is. You could argue he becomes less of a person in both the Pride and Wisdom ending, but more demon/spirit. It is a loss of human complexity and he finally returns to the Fade more alike himself before he took on physical form.

Perhaps it can be argued this ending is the best one from Solas’ P.o.V without a romanced Lavellan: after all, she was the only thing that could “steal his attention from the Fade” or in other words: the only reason he would consider willingly taking physical form without being asked to.

3. Breaks his leash:

The third one is more complex (so bear with me here), because accepting your mistakes and growing in order to not repeat them requires human complexity. A thing Solas has avoided his entire physical existence. He is stuck in regret, yet would repeat all his mistakes again given the chance.

His avoidance of humanity is best seen in the contradiction of his disregard for lives and his conviction of freedom for the elves. His nature compels him to stand against tyranny and enslavement - to be a champion of freedom of choice and thought. Yet as a leader and a strategist he refuses to acknowledge that people matter in more ways than being pawns. He will grieve them later, yes, but his love for a person will never waver his decision if he deems their sacrifice the best course of action in the war - he will not even ask their consent (as seen with the Disruption spirit in the Fade memories).

He does not acknowledge that people are an intrinsic part of war and their lives matter in that equation. He struggles with his mistakes and the lives lost but he can not stop to think he might be going about it all wrong, because I imagine he fears if he factors in the emotional weight of his choices, it would impede his end goal, or worse: break him into indecision.

The emotional weight of the war and the lives lost, his mistakes and his position as a leader - not an advisor, are so against his spirit nature that he suppresses these issues instead of dealing with them like a person. He becomes prideful because he shuts other options out. His way is the only way.

He sees everything fall apart: everything he does: disaster is sure to follow: The blight, trapping the elven gods, the murder of Mythal (x2) - yet he can not stop. He does not know how. He is desperate for a way out - a way out of regret and feeling the weight of his mistakes - he pushes on because that is his only option lest he truly faces what he has done and the pointlessness of it all. All the lives he has sacrificed need to mean something - that is what he sacrificed them for. How can he face that he killed them and not have an excuse for doing so?

In the last ending he is forced to talk about these things: the Inquisitor tells him he is forgiven if he just stops. Yet this is not enough - he has sacrificed Mythal (and in ways himself) to reach his goal and it can not have been in vain. Here Mythal jumps in and helps him carry the weight of it all by shouldering it beside him. He finally lets himself feel the weight of it all and it breaks his conviction. Mythal releases him from her service: the leash of service to not only Mythal, but to her dreams and visions for the elven people; the very reason he was made manifest in the physical world, and so their very long and increasingly painful relationship comes to an end. He gets closure. He allows himself to grow and so he sets out to undo his mistakes: to sit with them (the blight) and truly do the best he can to heal what can be healed. It is the most difficult ending - a true apology: he has to pull a Bharv.

It is also the ending which was foreshadowed if you chose to let Varric help Cole in inquisition. I might get into this more in another post, but essentially he becomes more human by dealing with his shit and growing. It is a warm thought that the best ending is the ending Varric helped make way for.

It wraps up the story nicely as well: he enters the Fade a human, just like he entered the physical world a spirit, underlining the complexity of his character arc.

This is also the only ending in which he can end up with Lavellan: I think it is poetic that she can only join him if he becomes more human, less spirit; a mix of both Wisdom and Pride. He has to accept his humanity and the weight of a human heart - metaphorically, he has to make the choice to finally enter the physical world and all of its complexities of his own volition: and there he finds her waiting.

[dunmesh]

okay but did you think about the fact laios already feels responsible for taking her last breath... this story started with falin sacrificing her life for him, dying in front of his eyes- so that "worst case scenario" already happened. at the beginning he thought all he had to do to fix things is simply bring her back to life like they had done before, but then it was his decision that led her to a fate arguably even worse than death; a reality where the very reason he wanted to save her was erased from her mind, with her becoming a chimera puppet. a reality where he is forced to fight a monster in the form of his sister.

for that reason, his choice to kill falin on his own isn't about saving everyone else from the horror of this "possible" outcome as much as it is him finally facing his own guilt for all he had done: from abandoning her during their childhood to bringing her with him to the island and living a life of hunger and danger at the cost of the safe future she could've had without him, eventually resulting in her dying while being all alone. but unlike his choice to leave their village, this time she was the one forcing him to leave her behind- an act that was not only done out of pure love but was also the result of a lifetime of internalizing the notion that everyone she loves always takes priority over herself.

so when it came to that point in chapter 67, killing her was his way of not abandoning her anymore. taking her last breath to carry alone, so he can never let go of her again. even if they wouldn't have succeeded in resurrecting her, then at least he gave her one last precious memory, at least he didn't let her sleep starving again- which is in direct contrast with her death at the beginning of the series that was caused by their hunger and its effects. but more, or perhaps even most importantly, at least he didn't let her die alone this time- having her most beloved person experiencing the horrors of her death with her while her dear friends are witnessing her suffering that she was trying so hard to shield them from until now.

and in those moments, it was without a doubt falin struggling against him along with the dragon. because of her brother forcing her to make a choice once more, she finally revealed her most raw, selfish and intrinsic side by fighting him back, scratching and pushing and screaming and harming the person she always put first instead of quietly giving up her own life. dying by the hands of love instead of dying for love. in choosing herself this time, it might be what gave her soul the strength to choose living by the end of the series- living a life of her own. and for laios, this was just as essential to his personal growth as well as the first step in his atonement: redoing it "the right way".

[bakugoushotwife]

blessing and curse

summary: yuuji is a wonderful boyfriend...you just wish he was able to fuck you... warnings: post shibuya, aged up duh, yuuji struggles with ptsd, night terrors, as well as anxiety, you both see therapists, oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, fem!reader, pet names, (pretty girl, baby, cutie, etc), rough sex. wc: 3k a/n: this is my first yuuji piece nom nom nom i'm actually obsessed and soaking wet tbh i'm thinking thoughts for yuuji.........anyway to my lovely requester i hope you enjoy this <;3 jjk masterlist here

yuuji feels things very intensely. it’s a blessing and a curse, though the latter is more often experienced than the former. guilt, loss, regret–all things that nearly swallowed him whole while he fought for his friends and the people of japan–for the whole world. it’s so hard to be him, to live with what he carries on his shoulders–on his soul. he’s unloveable. he’s the one who caused all of the pain—things would have been easier if he died. there’s a number of people whose lives ended because of and for him. he was only just adjacent to a murderer. months after the fighting ceased and the war was won, he would wake up numerous times through the night with night terrors. he couldn’t even call them nightmares because they weren’t fabrications of his imagination. they were all too real memories that kept making their rounds–reminding him that he would be forever burdened with a layer of hell no one else could claim to know about. 

he met you in the waiting room of his therapist’s office. he remembers seeing you and wondering what you could be talking to his specialist about. it meant you also had to be a sorcerer—clearly he couldn’t see a normal one about his specific traumas and baggage, and apparently neither could you. he remembers not even knowing you and his heart still hurting for the pretty young girl that must be hurting like him. he remembers hoping that you hadn’t been through anything like what he had—the anxious voice in the back of his mind wondering if somehow he caused your pain via sukuna’s rampages or the destruction and death that followed him. he remembers you meeting his eyes on a seemingly unremarkable thursday afternoon, catching him in the middle of one of his staring way too long episodes. you narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at him in amusement. 

the rest was easy. you were easy to talk to, to admire, to hold, to love. you made him feel intense things in a good way–in a way he had nearly given up on. his world had slowly become a mixed palette of blacks and whites and muted grays–but your smile brought color back. your touch made vivid purples and yellows; your laughter the brightest of pinks and the most warm oranges. you became the blessing where he was the curse, the savior of a damned man bound to paint on smiles and pretend that sacrificing his soul and everyone he’s ever loved was worth it. now he felt unimaginable comfort and love by getting to know you. his smiles weren’t so fake anymore—and the only things that woke him in the night was losing you. truly the only fear that yuuji itadori has left: cursing his blessing. 

you thought he was the best boyfriend around and an even better man. you’ve slowly but surely unraveled the reason he was visiting the therapist through his eventual opening up to you and telling you just a fraction of what he’s experienced in his life and you can understand his intimacy issues. see…yuuji is easy to love. he’s wonderful, attentive, sweet, careful, strong and chivalrous. but he won’t fuck you. you’re too nervous to push him any further—all too aware of his fears of letting anyone in, of loving and showing that in ways that make you vulnerable. he’s all too conscious of what it would mean—of the danger he would be putting you in.

there’s been many times here lately that you’ve thought that line will finally be crossed—heavy petting and make-outs that get you squirming in his lap and soaking through your panties. it always goes this way, no matter how innocent the two of you try to keep your dates. move night, game night, even cooking together ends up with yuuji’s tongue down your throat and his hands under your shirt. tonight is no different, some youtube video plays in the background—a forgotten video game walkthrough that yuuji had been paying careful attention to until you leaned in to rip it away with those teasing kisses to his jaw. you know exactly what buttons to press after four months of nothing past second base driving you to a point of restlessness. 

you just wanted him to see your perseverance. you would do this for as long as it takes, anything to prove that you’re here to stay. you want to make him comfortable enough to tear those walls down—the ones that make his eyes flutter shut and his hands fist at his pants in order to keep them to himself. his eyes close to will himself to concentrate on something–anything—other than the feeling of your warm lips tracing his pulse, smooth fingers sliding under his shirt to outline the dips and muscles of his torso. it’s not that he doesn’t want to this, he craves you like nothing ever before. your touch is the medicine bringing him back to life, but he can’t allow himself to ruin you—taint you. but as you move into his lap and change your kisses to more intense nips and sucks at his skin, his body betrays his mind. he can feel the blood rush to his cock as your thighs trap him beneath you, and he moans out at the same time you do. the pressure of your clothed cunt sitting against his needy dick has his hands moving before he can tell himself to stop. he grabs your waist, accidentally and automatically rutting up against the friction you offer with a hiss. 

“fuck, cutie.” he groans, your lips covering his parted and pouty ones to keep him from protesting further. his fingers only dig into your side as the two sides of his mind argue with each other. he wants you badly, your body slotted against his perfectly and the way you kiss him like you’re trying to touch his soul drives him crazy. anyone with a girlfriend as hot as you would be a fucking idiot to keep denying himself of her. his hands knead the warm flesh of your body as an instinct, his body knowingly responding to your advances. his tongue slides over yours in a frenzy, his head becoming fuzzy as saliva trails down his chin—something in him telling him to stop when his hands slide upwards to palm your chest. you cry out at the feeling—so starved for his affection that you know you’re soaking wet already. just his rough hands scraping over your sensitive nipples sends you into rutting rhythmic circles of your hips over the tent in his pants, breaking your sloppy kiss in order to remove your shirt fully in a silent show of what you wanted to happen next. 

“aw baby—you know i can’t,” he whines, his lips swollen and even pinker than usual. he drops his hold to your hips, making comforting circles over the bone beneath his grasp. your face drops to instant heartbreak and he can feel his own heart try to rip itself apart for making you so sad. he never thought about how this must affect you, a woman with needs and desires for her boyfriend. he knows this can’t last much longer or he’ll lose you anyway. the room is just a mixture of your heavy breathing and the monotone droning of the tv for a few moments, and then you whine in retaliation, picking up his hand and moving it back to your breast. you search his eyes, seeing the fear flickering in those brown embers of his. you just need to show him there’s nothing to be scared of, that you need him worse than you need the oxygen in this room and would do anything for him today and forever. 

“yuuji,” you gasp out in such a voice that he knows he won’t be able to hold back this time. four months of seeing your body in your cute date outfits and in his shirt after you’ve spent the night; the feeling of your curves under his fingers as he guides you to the safe side of the sidewalk or the swell of your hip as he guides you through the door he’s just opened—four months of draining his balls after he’s sent you home with nothing more than a few wet kisses and tit-squeezes. the way your eyes shine like you’re about to cry if he denies you one last time…it’s too much. “please—i need you,” you breathe out, reaching those gorgeously soft hands out to sweep against his cheeks, to plead with him to be a good boyfriend. he can’t make you suffer any longer—”i need you so bad yuuji, please don’t push me away…i’m your forever girl!” 

oh fuck. he might cum in his pants from hearing that alone. suddenly, silence falls upon his mind. he can only hear the echoes of your cries for him–no more voices in his head arguing about the best way to continue, only you. a guttural groan rips from his throat and he stands with your legs wrapped around his body, a broad hand snaking up your back to keep you pressed against him. you squeal a little at the sudden shift and the deep growl that he let out, his face now devoid of that playful man you’ve come to love. he looks so focused, so serious, his brow furrowed as he looks over your face. 

“i’m sorry i made you wait so long, pretty girl.” he nods, letting your body bounce on the bed as he’s set on immediately removing the remainder of your clothes. he pulls you to the edge, legs dangling over the sides. you almost think it must be too good to be true, sitting up on your elbows to catch a glimpse of that ravenous fire consuming his previously kind eyes. he’s leaned back to peel his own clothes off, but his eyes never leave your body. he looks over your lip pinched between your teeth to your pebbled nipples to the glistening slick coating your inner thighs. he doesn’t even know where to start, but he’s going to ensure that you’re finally taken care of. “i’m a dumbass—thought i was keeping you safer like that.” he mutters, leaning over to kiss the space between your ribcage. he makes his way to your jaw, licking a hungry stripe between your breasts and claiming your neck with bruising nips at the delicate flesh that greeted him. 

you’re set to mewling immediately, the flip switched in your boyfriend making you rub your legs together in anticipation. he chuckles and you can feel him smile against your skin as his hand snakes down to keep you from squirming. he quickly pecks your lips. “m gonna make it up to you now, baby girl.” his eyes are wide, but glazed over with affection. you nod, feeling his strong fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh to keep you from closing them, his abs raking over your sensitive clit as he lowers himself to his knees at the foot of the bed. your face burns as you realize what he’s going to do, but he doesn’t give you time to think about it before turning your mind to mush from the feeling of his fat tongue splitting your lips apart and breaching your tiny hole. he seems pleased by the way you react—back arching off the bed and hands gripping at the sheets from the surprising burn. it’s a good burn, the kind you’ve been craving for the months you’ve been with a man who loves you like he does, your wanton moans just cementing that his choice was the right one. he’s growing addicted to this already; your flavor on his tongue, your moans echoing in his ears and your thighs pressing in to the sides of his face. he feels your silky walls clamp down on his tongue, making his eyes roll back at the thought of putting his dick in something so tight. he slurps at the arousal slipping out, sliding his tongue to the hardened bud waiting at the top of your cunt. he wraps his tongue around your clit, making you jolt at the sudden increase in sensation. it’s amazing—goosebumps prickle out over your skin and you reach down to tug at the silky pink locks woven between your fingers. you can feel every nerve running through your body and how it builds with a fiery pleasure that you know only yuuji can give you. “oh my god—yuuji!” you cry out as that pleasure mounts to a tipping point. his teeth scrape against your hood to encourage you to fall over that line so he can see what he’s been denying you of for four achingly long months. 

you make the sweetest face when you cum, it has him closing a fist around his own dick to calm himself—the promise of having your pussy making him jerk at his own touch. you even sound so pretty as you shatter, legs jerking and your grip on his hair yanking almost painfully hard. it only makes yuuji smile wider, feeling a bubbly sense of satisfaction ripple in his own gut from making you feel so good. 

“nngh, yuuji–” you whine, your vision returning to normal after a few seconds of respite. he’s already pushing you back to the pillows, manhandling you into the bent position he wanted. you’re on your back, knees by your ears and a boyfriend giving you no time to be anxious about the angry and leaky horsecock sliding through your folds. you thought he was a sweet man, and maybe he still is–but his own excitement to have you has him forgetting his normal chivalrous behavior. “fuck–yuuji!” you claw at his biceps, fighting against that true splitting burn. his tongue was nothing compared to the girth he pierces you with—and he’s smiling so tenderly at your wiggling and struggling. 

“s’okay, cutie. you can take it, you’re already taking it!! didn’t you ask me to?” he raises a brow, face flashing with mock-confusion as your hands shove at his chest, all in an effort to get used to the feeling of him inside you. his thumb brushes your cheek, his other hand keeping the back of your thigh shoved back. “nyeh—you begged me! come on pretty girl–you gotta loosen up!” he laughs airily, moving the hand from your face back down to pinch and roll your aching clit. you jump at first, the touch sending another jolt of pleasure circulating to your brain–and then you relax enough for him to move. he’s got you folded in such a way that you can hardly breathe–or maybe that’s from how he slams into you recklessly, tip catching on your poor, innocent, cervix each time. it hurts, it burns everywhere—but it’s the best feeling in the world. his breathing grows ragged once he settled into a pace, brutally slamming into you in a way that led you to believe he wasn’t doing this on accident. 

soon, your hands around his biceps slip to your sides, eyes lulling into a pleasure-induced haze. you watch him, the twitch of his nose and the way his hair gets curly once it sticks to his forehead from his sweat. he’s perfect, and he’s finally giving you all of himself, really devoting himself to you, conquering any fear. you don’t mind if you’ll be bedridden for the next week—feeling his heavy cock in your chest from how hard he ruts into you—it would be well worth it to hear his grunts and whimpers of satisfaction, to feel the bruising grip he has on your body like he’s afraid you might disappear. it’s all so good, and exactly like you craved. “there she goes—takin’ it like a champ now!” he cheers you on, panting a little as he leans over your body and grabs the headboard, deepening his angle as if he wasn’t already fucking you brainless. 

the new angle makes your jaw drop in absolute earth-shattering bliss. you two could be the only people left on earth and you would never know—to consumed in yuuji itadori to notice anything else. you’re back to pawing at his chest, the coil in your gut building rapidly as he fucks into you like his life depends on it. you wanted everything, he’ll make sure he gives you everything. the headboard creaks, the bed moans with you and you truly do worry he might break it for a split second–but his broken moan of your name swallows up any wandering thoughts. a bead of sweat slides down the slope of his nose before it drops onto your cheek, the evidence of his hardwork. he moans your name again, warning you that the end was approaching. you nod as he moves your legs to his shoulders, leaning as close as possible to wrap you in his arms and kiss you in short, desperate bursts. he treasures you more than he thought possible, that look you give him right before your eyes roll back into your head from your orgasm makes his own dick jump within your vice-grip of a cunt. you make that sweet face again, a face he knows he’s hooked on—your pussy spasming around him to welcome his fat load gets him to make his own kind of special and beautiful face, lip between his teeth and adam’s apple bobbing at the same pace his balls slap into your backside. you swear you can feel his heart beating, his lungs filling and emptying as he flattens his chest to yours and fills your guts with his loving cum. he keeps thrusting even after he’s done, just watching your face contort and shift, your body bouncing in his arms. he likes the ache of overstimluation, and loves the way you mewl and hug him, eyes all sleepy and far away. 

“that’s it, you did it, so so good.” he praises in a soft tone, kissing your lips and then your nose and then your forehead with equal adoration. “can’t believe i kept us from feeling like that!” he shakes his head, kissing your cheeks to continue showering you in his love if not to keep you awake. he sits back up and slides out of you, quickly snatching his t-shirt up to catch the spillage. it’s hot, watching his seed trickle from your abused pussy—he whines a little at the sight, puppy dog eyes flickering over your body as if to wonder if you could take another round…

now that you’ve gotten him to start, you may never get him to stop.

[anantaru]

hear me out.. this is fluffy 🥹

imagine wriothesley as a dad, especially a girl dad! (thanks to his teaser for this idea!!!)

cw. ・✶ ｡ none, fluff, established relationship (he's your husband), girl dad wriothesley <3 (she's around 6), fem! reader

the love wriothesley has for his daughter is the purest form of love.

it's new— and he has never felt it before, in fact, it cannot be compared with anything else in this universe.

as it was in his life, wriothesley was severely occupied as the duke of the fortress and such was the wonderful reason as to why he likes to appreciate the little moments that happen in your day to day life with your daughter— the feeling of protecting his child was inexpressible, and in order for him to at least miss you both a little bit less or make it become somewhat bearable, wriothesley finds himself romanticizing the morning hours of the day.

the duke starts his day with greeting you, his wife, and his cute daughter before he helps you to get her ready as much as he can— side note your daughter has his eyes, and if words could describe it only a little bit, she looks just like an angel.

also— it might be silly, or maybe it just looks silly seeing your husband struggle like that, but something about him doing your daughters hair was— by the same token, very cute and quite hilarious.

that's when his alter ego, the quote on quote, “hair stylist wriothesley”, comes into place.

not beating around the bush, but your husband was surprisingly very good at doing her hair. obviously, he does it the same way you showed him, yet he will always add a ridiculous amount of bedazzled hair accessories to her head.

to say that wriothesley was a big fan of glittery, sparkly head pieces would be a clear understatement— but do not try to put them on his hair, this dangerous route will take you to a tickle competition you simply cannot win, not even if you tried your hardest.

the duke didn't see anything wrong with clipping a bunch of radiant hair accessories on her head, even though she might end up looking like a disco ball— not that your daughter minds it, archons, she utterly adored it whenever her dad did her hair!

she was, in fact, the biggest fan of her dad doing it, because they got to spend some quality time together before he would be gone for the majority of her day. how he kneels down behind her while she sits on the little seat in front of her child-sized vanity, looking at her dad through glowy, admiring eyes while he does her hair for the day.

sadly, wriothesley knows that after that he has to work, he must and it will always take him all his power to get going— before that though, he will tell you both goodbye, add a small kiss on his daughters forehead before giving you a small peck on the lips.

how deeply he wanted to spend the day with you two, maybe walk around fontaine so you could shop around— because last time you did that, you actually found a matching outfit for you and your daughter and wriothesley found it to be one of the cutest, little memories in his mind.

he even took a picture of the two of you and keeps it in his wallet at all times now. who knows but when he feels like it becomes unbearable while being apart from his family, he tends to just look at it and smile.

when wriothesley met you, his live truly has changed forever.

you gave him pure, unfaltering love, deep compassion and of course— a family, something he thought he'd never be able to have.

being a parent certainly wasn't an easy task, and it was important to navigate through future differences that might occur one way or the other, more so seek out a good way to find the best possible solution for everybody involved.

not only for your marriage sake, but for your own childs sake— and wriothesley cannot wait to teach her valuable life lessons, about giving love to the world and the importance of following your dreams, opening his arms for his child with kindness, provide his cute daughter with hope, real hope.

while lastly, make his child excited to see this world and grow up with two wonderful parents that love her so very much.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[n0tamused]

Hello, can I ask you about Wuwa men with a reader similar to Acheron from HSR? I mean also suffering from such a blessing, loss of taste, colors and memory 🥹

A/n: Sorry for the small wait! I do hope you enjoy this mixed bag of everything lol, I was a bit around the place and yapping. I haven't been able to play WuWa since this summer due to storage problems so these were written with the knowledge I have from the older versions lol.

Contents: Jiyan/Aalto/Xiangli Yao/Mortefi/Calcharo x GN!Reader(separate) that is like Acheron, fluff, comfort, a bit of angst, not proof-read, some of these are shorter than the others as I wasn't feeling particularly motivated for them all equally, sorry

Ko-fi

Jiyan

-It does not take too long for the General of the Midnight Rangers to catch on to your odd persona, “odd” is not the word he’d use, but with the lack of a proper terminology to describe his feeling with the initial encounter he has not much choice but to use it

-He is wary of you, but not unkind, as he usually is with newcomers that seemingly do not visibly come in blazing and wishing to oppose him and all he stands for

-There is a sense of understanding about him when it comes to you, he can practically sense the emptiness that surrounds you and that deep look in your eyes tells him that there is much more to you, something both dangerous and intriguing. Some time may pass before it becomes a routine of sorts to converse with you on a regular basis, and when it also becomes a habit for you despite your fading memory.

-Jiyan never held your weak memory against you, it was one of the things that pointed to something else that he wished to uncover through your blossoming relationship. Even if that thing stood alone as a characteristic of your, he was already enraptured by you, he wanted to help you where he could

-In private and with intimate relationships, Jiyan can be a man of fewer words than when he is on the battlefield with so many eyes on him. Being General means being a performer to a certain extent as well, but with you he can just leave that stage and be himself

-With someone who has lost the sense of taste and the eye for color he tends to hold onto some thread of hope that you’ll be cured of it, be it by his hand or someone else’s. He watches your movements and your mannerisms for any sign of improvement and gets rather excited if he ever spots some, even if it may not be a really big deal to you or anyone else. 

-Jiyan doesn’t share the same condition as you, but he understands the feeling of losing something and someone. He knows what it feels like to be adrift without a clear direction. So, he might silently mourn the fact that you can no longer enjoy the small things like colors, tastes, or memories, because he’s had his own form of loss and he felt the pain on his own skin. What he can do is try and dull any pain you might feel, or distract you from it, although he genuinely hopes you are not in pain at all.

-While you may forget past conversations  or dates, forgetting such things for Jiyan is a scarce event. He holds every memory close to him,  especially if he finds himself far away from you, on distant battlefields where he can only hope you haven’t forgotten about him. But there is also a poetic way to his thinking when it comes to this - if you do, in fact, forget him, he can always start again. He’d never tire, and he’d keep doing it all as long as you’d let him. 

-He does leave notes for you around the house that can be quite detailed depending on the context, hoping to help you with the daily routine even while he is away from you. 

-Though your memories are gone or fading and your senses have all but dulled, Jiyan would help you rediscover joy in small, often overlooked things. While you can't taste food anymore, he might make it a habit to cook you a meal, hoping that somehow you can still feel the texture or the warmth of the food, and there’s of course the health aspect to it too. And while you can't see colors, he might describe the world in such detail that you feel as though you're experiencing it through his eyes. He also helps you with your outfits if you ask him to! He may not be some fashionista but he can be of good help. In winter he does tend to mother you a bit, telling you to always dress warmly even if you may not feel as cold.

-If he ever came to see you use your “blessing” in combat, he’d be shocked, then in cautious awe. If anyone understands that great power comes with a great cost - it is him.

-You may hold power to move mountains, but Jiyan would always be there to jump in first and protect you.

Aalto

-Aalto would have come to know you through all the various branches of information he perches on, he knew you before had met you in person, but that does not erase his unending curiosity and skepticism

-He is tactical yet unassuming in his approach to you, stepping carefully to see where you stand with him. He is quick to adjust if need be, as in the end, the last thing he needs to happen is you marking him as your enemy and possibly wiping the floor with him

-As mentioned, he does approach you with a certain curiosity, he is guarded and cautious. He has heard and read so much about you but to him this concept of being “blessed” in such a way by an entity unheard of in the whole world is strange at best. There was so much yet so little, at times he was unsure what to think

-Aalto is a whimsical fellow, as we all know, but that is a part of his own public persona. No one would really suspect such a guy of any ulterior motive, and it is a character that has bought him a way into so many places

-It comes as a bit of a surprise to him when he meets you next time and you don’t seem to remember him or parts of your prior conversation. He is questioning whether this is done on purpose to send him a signal you are not interested, but soon he does realize that it is really something serious and not done of your own violation

-Aalto is used to navigating difficult situations with tactical precision, and he prides himself on his ability to control and influence outcomes. However, when faced with someone like you- someone whose condition is so profound and deeply entrenched- he might feel a sense of helplessness. His usual methods of fixing things or controlling situations wouldn’t work on you. He might even feel frustrated by his inability to do anything tangible to heal or help you reclaim you’ve already lost

-But with that being said, Aalto would definitely try and help you in the later stages of your relationship to look for some cure, or at least something to lessen this curse. Even at the start he may point to some cures you can try out. It is not an easy thing to live with and it certainly is not comfortable either. He may not completely understand it, even with the abundance of information he has, it is still unknown territory, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. He never appears too stoic however, and likes to keep a lighthearted tone around you in hopes that at least his jokes and laid back demeanor can keep you calm and entertained, even if for a while, even if you’ll forget eventually

-Aalto would want to bring you “back to life” in some way, but his methods might be a bit unconventional and rather bold when it comes to it. Rather than using gentle persuasion like Jiyan, Aalto might  try pushing you more directly, testing your limits, teasing, and seeing how far he can go to provoke a reaction.  He may put salt instead of sugar in your food and hope you notice and scold him for it.

-This could come across as both intense and a bit intrusive at times, like a water that’s just about to burst with a boil, but it’s never done out of malice. He’d never do something that would cause you harm. He’d  just want to know if there’s any spark left in you, any piece of yourself that could be awakened, and if there’s even a small sand-sized spark, he is more than willing to put all his efforts out to make it shine brighter

-While initially, Aalto might be driven by curiosity and perhaps a need for control, over time he might develop a deeper, more nuanced understanding of your condition. He would begin to realize that there’s no quick fix, no immediate solution or cure for you, and that the journey to healing is one that requires time and patience. This does make him soften, in a rather sad way in which he has to eventually accept this no matter how much he wants to keep fighting for you

-But he is more than willing to be patient, holding that hope at the back of his mind instead of making it his very sole goal. He understands that watching him jump from place to place can also be exhausting for you to see.

-In terms of your memory loss Aalto would take lots of pictures, although sadly not many would include him due to his work, but there would be his handwriting on the back of printed pictures and silly doodles as well, some also done by Encore who has grown quite fond of you

-He leaves flowers for you. After a time he also bought you a plastic potted plant, just so you can have something that lasts, as the last time he bought you a real potted plant it didn’t really live long

-He jokes about it, but he never took it to heart lol he is chill

Mortefi

-It is a bit of a lucky strike of fate that brought you two to meet, considering Mortefi doesn’t exactly go out of his way to meet new people. It would probably be Baizhi or some other that brings you to the Academy, and that is when he’d first get a sense of something different, that void that followed you like a shadow

-It is unclear to him whether this is something he is imagining or if it was something real, but as it is not exactly his field of research, he does not pursue his twinge of intrigue from there

-That is until Baizhi brings it up in conversation at a later date, something about this anomaly in your being, something that went beyond simple ailment of health. It puzzled her. And that conversation with Baizhi did leave a lasting taste in his mouth for days to come, even if Baizhi did not reveal anything confidential to him or anything concrete. 

-When he meets you eye to eye he does question you a little bit about what you’re doing at the Academy again, and a conversion flows from there on out as you wait for Baizhi to come and check on you again. He wasn’t the warmest of people to converse with, but he was cordial and didn’t leave you alone in the middle of the Academy. He could tell from your mannerisms and from what you told him in the conversation that you didn’t exactly.. know what’s going on, and by that he also figured out your memory wasn’t the strongest. You made mention of getting a message from Baizhi that very morning, a reminder for you to come in, and he may have snuck a peak at your phone and saw there was more than one reminder before that one. It was a brief glance

-After your checkup, he does coincidentally meet you in the halls again and asks you about it, seemingly a little more softer but still blunt and hardy on the outside 

-Mortefi wouldn’t be the type to offer overly emotional comfort. His understanding of loss or suffering would be intellectual rather than empathetic. He has lost a lot in his life as well, but he has always been forced to suppress his feelings, which led to outbursts somewhere later down the line.  However, his form of sympathy wouldn’t  be wholly detached but rather perceptive. He would sense that your condition is more than just a physical or psychological issue- it’s a fundamental disconnect from the world and your own spirit

- He might not express his sympathy outwardly, but there would be moments when his cold demeanor falters, and he would quietly acknowledge the sadness of your condition, even if he doesn’t directly verbalize it. He grows fond of you, and he takes a while to realize it too. He doesn’t want to believe it at first either - it is simply not logical to him, it doesn’t make sense, and intimate relationships always came hard to him anyway

-Mortefi would offer to make something for you that would help you with remembering things, he would even try to craft a special pair of glasses that would allow you to see colors, a special candy that would allow you to taste certain things..etc. He would try whatever his imagination would bring up, and it wouldn’t be rare to catch him staying up at night, trying to realize this idea into reality

-The loss of memory might fascinate Mortefi the most. He would be intrigued by how a person can live without the things that form their identity. If you think about it, everyone is just a well of memories which form not only their person, but their approach to the world around them. That includes Mortefi as well.  If you don’t remember your past, it could mean you’re an empty vessel- a blank slate and therefore easily impressionable, in some way or another. He sees this as risky, so Mortefi may become rather easily irritated, or even anxious in some way, if you stop responding to his messages or if he hasn’t seen you in some time. 

-Could be that you just forgot to text him… but that doesn’t stop him from worrying 

-He may get a little irritated at you forgetting certain things or being late to appointments and such, but he understands this isn't done by your own choosing, so his anger is redirected at things that actually deserve his anger

Xiangli Yao

-Sweet Xiangli Yao, although when he meets you, and you're no more than another stranger to him, he still feels a sense of empathy for you. However threatening and dark that sense of emptiness that surrounds you is, it is just that which draws him in. Could he make it disappear? 

-Xiangli Yao’s first reaction would be one of deep empathy. He is someone who feels others' pain deeply and would immediately recognize the gravity of your suffering. The loss of your senses and memory would weigh heavily on him.

-Of course, at the start he does not know all the details of you situation, he is quite hopeful and eager to help in whatever way he can, so when he finds out this was put upon you by a power higher even than of the sentinel, it is safe to say he feels a bit hopeless. His mind comes at a stop, like rusted cogwheels that he desperately tries to get moving again. Creaks and squeaks are all he gets in return for a while

- His first instinct would be to reach out to you, not just to understand your condition but also to offer support, even if he doesn't know how to fix things right away

-Unlike other people who might approach your condition with curiosity or detachment to satisfy their own curiosity, Xiangli Yao would actively search for ways to help you heal or regain some semblance of the things you've lost. He would likely spend time learning about your condition, asking you about how you feel or what you remember, even if your memory doesn’t work the same way. His compassionate nature would drive him to research ways to restore or help you find balance in a world without your senses and memories

-Given his ability to read people and understand emotions on a deeper level, and with him being made of a rather soft and nurturing nature, Xiangli Yao would be sensitive to how you’re feeling. He’d be able to pick up small cues and mannerisms you may display, reading you like an open book

-Even if you don't express your emotions outwardly due to your condition, he would be able to sense the subtle cues - whether it’s the way you carry yourself or even your tone of voice when you speak. This is even more amplified the more time you spend together with each other. In either case, Xiangli Yao would adapt his approach accordingly, offering emotional support without pushing you to confront anything you're not ready for 

-Xiangli Yao's sense of duty and his protective nature would kick in when he realizes the extent of your condition. He would be willing to make sacrifices to help you - whether it’s giving up his time, his resources, or even putting himself in danger to find a cure for you. You may be able to protect yourself, but if he can avoid putting you in a situation where you're forced to do so, he'd do just that. He'd rather be the one fighting than let you fight 

-His deep belief in looking out for others, especially those who are vulnerable or hurting, would mean that he would go to great lengths to make sure you’re taken care of, even if it means putting his own needs aside

-Xiangli Yao’s care for you is gentle and affectionate in subtle yet really warm ways, but he would respect your boundaries. He wouldn’t overwhelm you with his affections, but he would express his care in small, meaningful gestures like sending you sweet messages through the little robot he makes for you, and in the same manner he’d send you voice messages too. Similarly to Jiyan he might take to a habit of leaving notes around the house and little treats as well. Even if you can’t taste them, he hopes you’ve enjoyed the little game of hunt for them

-If you'd allow him, he'd hold your hand as you walk around as he tells you about streets you've passed through before if you've forgotten. He'd quietly remind you of the names of others if you need the help and he'd never put you in a situation that would be embarrassing for you, that's the last thing he wants you to feel, especially since this curse is not something you would've wished for if it was up to you. Sure, it gives you great power, but at what cost..? Is it really worth it?

Calcharo

-When first learning of your suffering, he might simply nod, his face calm but with a subtle furrow in his brow. He wouldn’t rush to comfort you or find out more immediately, but instead, he would want to assess whether your condition is something that can be cured or if it's just part of who you are now, or if it something that threatens his work. His mind would be working quickly, formulating potential ways to help, but he would remain quiet, choosing his words carefully

-Despite his stoic nature, Calcharo would feel a strong sense of responsibility toward you, especially if he perceives you as vulnerable. He might not openly show his concern, but he would take steps to ensure that you are protected and taken care of

-Calcharo's emotional distance doesn't mean he’s cold or indifferent to your suffering. He’s simply more reserved and slow to let his guard down. However, as he sees your struggle, a quiet protectiveness would begin to form. He is not emotionless, he’s just buried his hard deep into his duty and deeper still

- He would keep his distance in terms of expressing emotions, but he would become more protective of you, watching your movements, ensuring that you don’t push yourself too far, and subtly stepping in when you need help. He does have eyes and ears everywhere, and may give some of them the task of keeping an eye out for you if he is in a situation where he can’t lend you his supports, due to his missions and duty

-While he may understand quite early on that the power you possess may go over the limit of his own imagination, he would step in to take over instead, telling you to go and wait for him elsewhere. He is rather gruff yet coldly calm in his command to you, he does not play around with work, and especially when it comes to you

-Seeing as he has a..demon of his own, he would come to compare your two conditions over time and correlate them as well, growing a greater understanding of you even if the two conditions don’t equal one another. He can only use his own knowledge to try and understand your experience, and that is the only way he knows

-As mentioned, Calcharo is quite stumped emotionally, he has a hard time expressing himself, so vocally you shouldn’t expect much from him, but if you need any work done, he is your guy

-If he doesn’t know how to do xyz, he most definitely knows another guy that does! Must be magic/j. That being said,his love language is definitely acts of service 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[nick-writes-stuff]

One-sided Reunion

In-ho/Young-il x gn!reader

Summary: You had been friends with In-ho since you were kids. In the games, there is a man who reminds you of the ghost from your past. In-ho couldn't help but ask you about him, and after the conversation goes poorly, he realizes how dire your situation is.

! warnings: discussing canon-typical violence

a/n: it's finally here! this was so fun to write, and i'm so excited to start writing more for squid game characters. there may be a part two to this one, so keep an eye out if you're interested.

In-ho expected a lot of things when he decided he would go undercover as a player in the newest set of games. He expected Player 456 to try to help the others beat the game with his past experiences. He expected to witness the plans to overthrow the gamemakers in action. He expected the usual danger and chaos and violence. He'd seen his fair share of games before.

He had never expected to see you. He must have skipped over your file during the recruitment process.

This was a pleasant surprise, of course. He always knew that leaving you behind was one of the hardest things he had to do when he left. Sure, leaving his family was another regret as well, but they had definitely become fed up with his behavior before he left for the games. And now, with what happened with Jun-ho, he grew to accept the fact that that bridge had been burned.

He didn't even know how you would have ended up in a place like this anyway. You were never the type to gamble, get caught up in illegal activity, or associate with loan sharks and the like. He figured you must have been there either to help someone or because someone dragged you down with them. He later found this out to be the case, as your father had been having money troubles and used you to try to dig himself out of the hole he made. In-ho had never liked your father.

The first time he saw you, his gaze lingered for a moment to try to make sure it was really you. Luckily, you hadn't noticed him staring, and he averted his gaze to avoid your suspicion. During the preparation process, he did catch you staring at him, however. He pretended not to notice. He didn't change too much appearance-wise since you last saw him, but the years apart were enough to cloud your memory for him to go unnoticed. His demeanor had definitely changed since you saw him as well. He was hardly the same man you knew.

You had definitely changed as well. You were still undeniably you, but there was a bit of that infectious spark gone from you. Your eyes were no like bright and expressive, likely from the struggles you face outside. He wondered how much of those struggles were caused by him. The two of you were very close growing up, and while the bond with his wife and his brother had been stronger, both of those bonds have been permanently severed. Your bond with him may also be severed by this point. He wouldn't know.

When you first started hanging around Gi-hun's group, he realized how much he has really missed you. Your humor, your wit, your compassion. You both worked amazingly together, and it felt like old times. He watched over you in the games as much as he could without suspicion.

After Mingle, Gi-hun had suggested that they start maintaining a look-out schedule to ensure the X's safety during the night. He seemed to anticipate another fight like the one that occurred during his first game. He was entirely correct in this assumption, as the Special Game was scheduled to start the next day after dinner. Dae-ho and himself were given first watch, but the ex-marine tapped out rather quickly. He left to go wake up someone else to continue.

When he heard footsteps, he turned to look but he couldn't make out anything except the red X patch on the jacket.

"Mind if I sit?" He heard your voice.

He shook his head. "No, it's fine."

You sat next to him with a soft yawn. While he and Dae-ho had been sitting in near silence, the two of you couldn't resist quietly chatting. About the games, about the voting situation, about the other players. Once you exhausted those topics, the conversation moved to things more personal.

"You know, you remind me of someone I knew outside of here." You said softly, looking over to the man beside you. You could hardly read the expression on his face in the dark, but you think he raised an eyebrow.

He was conflicted. On one hand he wanted to know how you felt about him—the real him—after he had left, but he didn't know how he would feel about your answer. What if you hated him? He knew how his mother and brother likely felt, and with his wife passing, you were really his only other connection to his life before the games.

Ultimately, he gave into the gnawing curiosity and decided to play along. "Oh really?".

You nodded. "Yeah, you look a lot like him." You started, pausing for a moment as you thought. "Or at least what I remember him looking like."

He acted puzzled by your phrasing, but he knew where this was going. "What do you mean by that?" He asked.

Your expression darkened, looking away from the man inside you. "I haven't seen him in a long time. It's been almost 4 years since he..." You trailed off, not knowing how to put the situation into words.

Young-Il frowned slightly. "Oh... I'm sorry. How did he pass?" He asked.

You shook your head. "No, he isn't dead. At least I don't think he is." You said before sighing. Your gaze lowered to your lap as you began fidgeting with your fingers

"He was a friend of mine since we were kids. I lived a few minutes away from where he and his brother lived. I remember he would always walk me home to my house and then turn around and go to his house. His mom was always annoyed with him because of it but he never stopped." You recalled, chuckling softly.

He forced his expression to remain the same even though he wanted to smile as he, too, recalled this pleasant memory. "He sounds like he is a great man." He said.

"Oh, he's the best." You said with a smile. "He had always been the kind of person that would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. He even donated his kidney to his younger brother when he had gotten sick."

He had two internal reactions to your description of him. Part of him was beaming with pride as you described him, glad you still thought of him highly after so many years. But there was also a pit forming in the bottom of his stomach as he wondered how you would react if you knew what he had actually been doing in the past few years.

He pressed further, indulging his curiosity about what you thought of him after everything that had happened. "What happened to him?" He asked, pausing before continuing, "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

You shook your head, murmuring a soft. "No, it's fine." before beginning: "Life gave him a bad deal. His wife had gotten sick, and they were struggling to pay for her treatments. He got fired from him job as a police officer. His brother told me he accepted a bribe, but I can't imagine him doing that."

He nodded slightly, making sure his expressions didn't raise any suspicion.

"His wife passed away in the hospital shortly after, and he kind of just disappeared. Packed some stuff and wasn't heard from again." You finished your thought. You took a deep breath to try to keep your composure.

He frowned. "That's awful." He said, shaking his head. Part of him felt awful for prompting you to talk about this when it clearly upset you, but another part selfishly wanted to know what you and his family thought of him now. He felt like a ghost haunting his own funeral, getting to find out what others thought of him when he shouldn't have been able to hear it. "Did anyone ever figure out what happened to him?"

You shook your head. "No. His brother tried to push for an investigation, but the leads ran dry. I know his family is still hoping that he's out there somewhere, but at least his brother is starting to lose that hope." You said.

"What do you think happened?"

The second he asked it, he wished he could take it back. You looked over at him in shock at his eagerness to know.

He felt his heart in his throat as he bowed his head slightly began to speak. "That was out of line, I apologize. I was wondering-"

"No it's fine I just..." You cut him off before pausing. "I just haven't tried to give it too much thought. Sounds too macabre."

Young-il nodded, understanding your hesitation. "That makes sense. I couldn't imagine that being an easy task."

In-ho, however, was somewhat dissatisfied with your answer. He struggled to believe that you hadn't given his disappearance thought until now.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment. The pause was much more awkward than he would have preferred. He thought about excusing himself to get out of the conversation, but you began to speak before he could suggest the idea.

"Honestly, it doesn't really matter what happened to him." You said softly.

His expression quickly turned into an almost confused disgust. What do you mean you don't care what happened to him? He was clearly taken aback by your comment.

You also gave him a puzzled look. He quickly remembered that he shouldn't have reacted so strongly to your statement. It definitely seemed strange for someone you had just met to react that way to a situation that didn't involve him.

Luckily, instead of questioning him, you rephrased your statement. "I mean that in the sense that no matter what happened, I just hope he's happy. I don't need an answer about his whereabouts specifically, but I just want to know if he's okay." You said, taking a deep breath to try to maintain your composure.

"How are you content with sitting by and not searching for him? If I were in your shoes, I would find him over anything." Young-il asked, trying to sound as empathetic as possible. Hopefully, you take his statement as him asking for advice rather than an attack on your character.

Your head snapped up to look at him. Your eyes narrowed as your gaze turned to a glare. You definitely didn't take that as a request for advice.

"Excuse me?" You asked, your voice louder than before but not loud enough to cause a commotion during lights out.

He tried to salvage the situation. "That came out the wrong way. What I meant was-"

"I really don't care what you meant. I just don't appreciate you accusing me of not caring about my best friend."

"That was not my intention. I was just..." He trailed off. Wait. Your best friend? You still considered him your best friend even after all these years.

He didn't have a lot of time to ponder your statement as you continued.

"I love him, okay? I've known him since I was seven years old. I would do anything to find him. You have no idea how desperately I searched for him, even longer than the police and his brother."

He couldn't do anything but sit there and take it all in. The whole situation was somewhat poetic. He was both the object of your fury and your admiration. You spat words at him about how much you cared about him.

You paused for a moment to sniffle softly and wipe the tears running down your cheeks. You took a deep breath before continuing. Your voice was quieter and your words were chosen more deliberately, but he could tell you were just as angry as before.

"My acceptance of his disappearance is not because I don't care about him. If he is out there living somewhere else without me in his life, that's fine as long as he's happy. I've only accepted the fact that maybe I wasn't enough for him, okay? Good enough of an answer for you?"

Despite all of the thoughts running through his head, he couldn't manage to say anything in response to you. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. After a moment of waiting, you scoffed and stood up. You headed back toward your bed, intending to wake up Gi-Hun for him to continue watch with Young-il.

In-ho knew he shouldn't have pried any further. How did he think you would be okay with him asking such questions? To you, he was a stranger, so he shouldn't have been so invested in your answers, but he couldn't resist. He really didn't have anything to lose at this point. This time tomorrow, he would be back in his position of the Front Man, and you could very well die in the games.

That realization hit him like a sack of bricks.

You could die in the games.

And he would have to watch it happen.

He felt a pit forming in the bottom of his stomach, finally beginning to comprehend the severity of the situation you both were in. He wasn't sure why it hadn't hit him earlier. Maybe while he was still a player, he thought he would be able to better protect you. But whenever he steps back into his role, he was going to be powerless to save you.

Ironic, considering he was one of, if not the most, influential man in the games.

Wait. He wasn't powerless at all. Quite the opposite, actually. It wouldn't be easy, but he could pull some strings to help increase the odds of your survival. He could do it tactfully in hopes that the staff wouldn't pick up on his intentions. But even if they did, it was highly unlikely any of them would have the gumption to confront him about it.

Even so, it seems like the players may choose to terminate the games after the tied vote anyway. If he played his cards right, he could orchestrate a way for you to come across him in the outside world.

But there was a glaring problem with this plan. If he ever met you in person again, you would likely realize that he was Young-il even if he introduced himself as In-ho. During the games, your constant adrenaline and overall fatigue would cloud your perception for now, but in the outside world, you likely would be able to see through the man's dual identities. Assuming you made it through the games. He had faith that you are capable of doing so, but this group of players is highly chaotic.

If you ever did find out about his position in the games, would you ever be able to forgive him for causing you and countless others so much pain and suffering? Thousands of players have died in the games, and some would argue that, therefore, they died by his hands. Even more than that, their families have to deal with the sudden disappearance of their loved ones. People outside the games would never understand that the positives outweigh the suffering tenfold.

There was one glimmer of hope left for him to ponder. You did say that you would do anything to have him back in your life.

Maybe anything could include setting aside your morals and accepting that the games do have merit to them. All he's doing is trying to better the world. No matter how unpleasant the means.

He made up his mind. He'd do whatever he could to get you out of there. He wouldn't make you win, of course. That would be too far and a clear violation of the rules. It was also wholly unnecessary for his reasoning.

However, getting you out unharmed is doable. That's something they've all done before after Il-nam wanted to become a player. And it was even happening with himself to a lesser extent. There's nothing that could stop him from pulling you out one way or another.

There were a lot of problems that may occur. Would you realize he was himself and not just Young-il? Would you even give him the time of day once learning his role in all of this? Could you even forgive him for leaving in the first place?

No matter. You were really his last shot at having any aspect of his past life back. He has no job to return to. His wife is gone. And he ruined any chance of reuniting with his brother when he put the bullet in his chest. You were it for him.

[moonberry69]

Not that anyone asked, but here’s my take on Caleb. I am deeply in love with him, your Honor. Yes, I am still married to the fish but Robo Apple will be taking his rightful seat as 2nd husband.

Number 1, can we talk about how spoiled MC was with Caleb? Brat level spoiled. He spoiled her ROTTEN. He treated her like a princess. He doted on her to the absolute max and seemed to love every minute of it. That man did anything and everything she asked him to do and beyond. He bought her everything she wanted and then some. She’s probably never heard the word “no” come out of his mouth when it comes to what she wants. Drying her hair? Cooking her meals? Doing her laundry? Buying her small gifts or snacks? Making her little gifts? Nurturing and comforting her when she’s sick? Being her rock when she’s scared or upset? Doing her homework? Defending her against bullying? Supporting her through anything and everything? There doesn’t seem to be any limit to what he would do for her. His entire life has revolved around her, her feelings, her wants, and her well being, ALWAYS. Its seems like the only thing he really went after for himself was his career as a pilot until joining the Farspace Fleet. And with that, it appears he joined for her safety.

Sure, it could be argued that Caleb did all these things because he wanted her dependent on him. That he used this to be manipulative. If she’s dependent on him, she’ll always need him around. But I don’t think that’s really the case, at least, not entirely. Possibly, but I don’t think so.

I don’t think Caleb’s need to control MC comes from a lack of confidence in her ability to take care of herself, either. He did seem to be perfectly supportive of her becoming a hunter despite how dangerous the job is. Worried yes but supportive. The powerful people he is in league with are probably more than she could handle alone and that could have a lot more to do with his more blatant controlling nature. But, I still don’t think that’s all there is to it when it comes to his “control and protect” antics. We as MC in the story assume that he doesn’t believe in our strength but that’s because he lies about everything and consistently dismisses us when we say we can handle a situation. Our strength and capability are constantly underestimated. He’s done this is the past, as well (his bond memory comes to mind). What else are we supposed to think when he is constantly trying to cage us and asks for us to let him handle everything? I believe Caleb’s dependence on MC plays a huge role in his need to control. She’s his life line. His world doesn’t rotate unless she’s in it. Caleb the man starts and ends with MC. Based on his apartment description, his lack of socializing, etc. he’s been alive but hasn’t been living since the explosion. It would also explain his desperation in her needing his protection during the bond moment (again, just an example). Her losing him is fine. But if he lost her? He wouldn’t be able to bear it. Not having her be a constant in his life is one thing. Him living in a world where she no longer exists is another. He wouldn’t be able to cope.

Caleb is possessive, yes. It’s obvious he always has been based on his Tender Moments and Bond memory but he gave the tether he wanted MC on some slack. That could also be because, as he said, he was holding back. I don’t think his entire reason for being so controlling and possessive is ONLY because he wants her safe and wants her for himself. I think there are layers to it. Caleb is such a complicated character and I love and adore him. He has a lot of moving parts. I have the most overwhelming urge to coddle him and smother him with hugs.

I don’t believe Caleb is obsessed with MC herself, either. Hear me out! I think what Caleb is obsessed with is the need to keep her alive. This goes back to his dependence on her. His need to keep her alive at any cost and out of harm’s way drives him in to being obsessed. I don’t think his obsession is with her. I think he is just a scared, trauma ridden man that is deeply, maddeningly in love with a woman that he has dedicated his entire existence to, who, right now, is in severe, life threatening danger and has been harmed in the past. In that situation, who wouldn’t be a little obsessive?

I also can’t help but wonder if part of his reason for being so adamant about wanting to hide her away is because he has doubts in his own ability to keep her safe, especially now. He seems to be well informed about many of the powers at play behind the scenes of what the plan is for MC. Maybe he doesn’t know the plan itself but he seems to know at least some of the people. Enough of them to be terrified for MC. He may know that when the forces come down on MC to take her, in the end, he’s helpless to defend her. If he was with MC while she was being experimented on, he wouldn’t have been able to do anything to help her or protect her. He was forced to be a bystander and comfort her as he could. If that is the case, then him having doubts about his ability to save and protect her now would make sense.

We just really don’t know what Caleb experienced when he was a kid. I think if we knew more, a lot of Caleb’s “whys” would make total sense. It definitely seems like he was experimented on. Again, it could be that he saw and, possibly, understood what was happening to MC, since he didn’t seem shocked that she didn’t know who he was in one of the flashbacks at Gran’s house. Gran could have told him, of course, what the issue was with MC but based on some other flashbacks we are given, it seems like Caleb was around even before Gran was Gran. Until Infold confirms for us, that’s my theory. Either way, Caleb is clearly deeply traumatized. Whether it be from his own experiences, watching MC experience what she did, a mix of both, or something else, he isn’t well mentally. Throw in what he has gotten himself mixed up with currently and the man is sinking. We do know he’s a test subject now. Currently, it’s safe to assume he is sacrificing himself to protect MC. He wants nothing more than to save her. He wants to protect her peace, even if MC isn’t pleased with his methods. He does seem to hold on to hope that MC will understand. Which, to me, is kind of tragic.

Caleb comes off as if he wants MC to blindly trust him and put her faith in him, like she used to. It seems to throw him off that she doesn’t. He’s a bit naive in this department. MC can’t trust him because she knows he’s deceiving her, among other things. Caleb lies to protect, then asks for blind faith. MC recognizes it and then lies to keep Caleb at bay. They go in circles. Caleb is in vicious cycle of his own creation. MC can’t do what he’s pleading with her to do because of his own actions. He’s trying to fall back on how things used to be. He’s constantly bringing up memories and walks down memory lane. He’s clinging to what they had. The problem is nothing is the way it used to be. He doesn’t seem to be fully ready to accept it, yet. It’s painful to watch.

But, who knows? I could be completely off base and Caleb’s motives aren’t due to any of this and he really is just batshit nuts 🤷🏻‍♀️ Either way, I’ll take him.

[atamascolily]

There is a tendency I see in PMMM analyses and discussions to treat the witches simply as monsters that can be overcome with sufficient force regardless of other circumstances--and thus Homura's failure to ever win against Walpurgisnacht on her own terms is something that could be easily fixed with more firepower and different tactics. And while there's nothing wrong with this interpretation, it's not one that particularly interests me, either.

What I like about PMMM and what makes it so engaging for me, is that it can be read on multiple levels--both as a literal journey and as a symbolic one. In-universe, witches are the shadow selves of magical girls; is it really so surprising that they also serve as narrative foils to those who face them, thus making victory or defeat as much of a character issue as a tactical one?

It is not a coincidence that Mami Tomoe, a girl who was forced to grow up too fast and who could have wished to save her dying parents but didn't, meets her end at the hand of a particularly childish and immature witch, a lumpen, misshapen doll that transforms into a clown--a girl who never grew up, who could have wished to save her dying parent but didn't. Mami, an experienced veteran who wiped the floor with the Rose Witch and her familiars earlier, is completely caught off-guard and is eaten alive by a witch who embodies all of the issues she herself struggles with and has yet to overcome within herself.

Yes, Mami was careless and overconfident, which led to her doom--but she had also fulfilled her role of introducing Madoka to the world of magical girls. On a narrative level, her death was necessary--not only to free Madoka from her impulsive promise to become a magical girl too early in the story, before she'd learned all the facts and could make a fully informed decision, but also to teach Madoka one final, horrific lesson about what life as a magical girl is really like.

This is not to say that AUs where Mami survives are wrong or missing the point--I've written them myself and I love them! (It helps that Mami's survival is usually the result of someone else's interference, not something she accomplishes on her own.) Nor do I mean to suggest that Mami's death is a moral failing on her part--merely that I think that Charlotte represents Mami's own particular brand of kryptonite at that particular point in her life, one she might have been able to survive if she had been able to move beyond the psychological issues hobbling her.

Meanwhile, Homura is able to easily defeat Charlotte, because metaphorically she's moved beyond the childish worldview that Mami is still stuck in. From that same symbolic perspective, it's this relative level of maturity, as much as her time stop and pipe bombs, that allows her to win.

Likewise, it is not an accident that the next witch Madoka encounters is one that specializes in extracting the memories of its victims, trapping Madoka in a spinning carousel as she is tormented by her own grief and guilty conscience over Mami's death. She is freed by Sayaka, who has moved beyond such angst by her decision to take on Mami's role as an idealized magical girl protector. Later on, Sayaka's descent into dualistic thinking is symbolized by her fight against a witch whose world is literally black and white--whom Sayaka defeats, but only at the cost of pushing herself dangerously to her limits.

As with Mami, Sayaka's death is directly tied to her own psychological issues--in this case, by her incredibly strict rules about how magical girls should behave and her refusal to cut herself any slack whatsoever. Her metaphorical self-denial results in literal self-denial, and her death as a magical girl and rebirth as a witch.

Then we come to Walpurgisnacht, a witch made of cogs and gears--the one witch Homura cannot beat, no matter what she does. Homura is stuck in her loops, unable to imagine a future beyond them, increasingly isolated from any meaningful connections or relationships--Walpurgisnacht may be the "fool that spins in a circle", but so is Homura. The inside mirrors the outside; when we watch Homura fight against Walpurgisnacht, we are also watching Homura's struggle with herself. Unlike Mami and Sayaka, Homura's magic allows her to fight this battle over and over again--again and again she is forced to retreat and start over, unsatisfied with the results and determined to do better next time. She doesn't die, but she doesn't win, either--instead, she's locked into perpetual stalemate with no end.

Madoka, however, is able to see beyond the vicious cycle represented by Walpurgisnacht and thus easily and repeatedly defeats an enemy that Homura cannot, regardless of her relative power levels in any given timeline. It's probably too simplistic to say that hope triumphs over despair--and yet, that's exactly what happens, every single time. Homura has numbed herself through repeated exposure to where she no longer feels hope or despair, thus existing in perpetual stasis with her purpose the only thing driving her. Paradoxically, the one thing she needs to do to win is the one thing she cannot do--and the thing that Madoka can do all too easily.

(This is not to say that Madoka doesn't have her own issues--she does!--just that her issues are different from Homura's, meaning she's not tripped up by this particular obstacle in the same way that Homura is. And it's not that Homura's struggles were pointless--they were what allowed Madoka to get to point where she had both the power and the knowledge that she could save everyone, including Homura.)

Homura's final battle with Walpurgisnacht shows Homura going to insane lengths, including a wall of C-4 explosives inside a refinery, a flaming oil tanker, and a submarine with Type 88 Surface-to-Ship missiles--none of which has any lasting effect on Walpurgisnacht whatsoever. That episode goes to great lengths to show that Homura's approach to fighting Walpurgisnacht fundamentally isn't working; I don't think adding more nukes would help.

The one time Homura gets the closest to her happy ending is the one timeline where she and Madoka fight and fall together--the one timeline where they are shown as equals, and the one where they debate becoming witches together and destroying the whole world before Madoka thinks better of it. This is also not a coincidence. If there is ever to be a truly happy end to this franchise--or an end at all--Homura and Madoka must be equal and willing partners, not one protecting/sacrificing themself for the other again and again. It is also likely that they will remake the universe in the process, through the combined power of their mutual wish.

[It also wouldn't surprise me if that line foreshadowed future plot elements--after all, Madoka technically became a witch in the final episode of the TV series (she got better, thanks to the nature of her wish), and so did Homura in Rebellion--but we shall see if the series ever follows up on this.]

This is why I'm so excited that Walpurgis no Kaiten seems to be laying the groundwork for Homura creating her own enemies and her greatest enemy being herself--once again, making the metaphorical literal. I'm excited about the prospect of Homura getting a do-over with Walpurgisnacht, which would represent a chance for her to confront her narrative foil one more time, and show us how her character has changed. Though it may play out on a larger stage, the real battle will be inside Homura's mind and heart--and, I would argue, always has been. The only way the outcome will change--the only way we can move beyond what's been and into something new--is if/when she changes.

I want to be clear that there's absolutely nothing wrong with the strictly literal interpretation of witches, and I think people should write what they want to write; if that's the story you want to tell, then go for it! For me, however, I find it far more compelling--not to mention richer and truer--if the actions and words on-screen correspond to the characters' emotional and psychological journeys, and there's no question that this preference how I interpret media in general, and PMMM in particular. And it's not that I think Homura couldn't defeat Walpurgisnacht in an AU scenario--merely that any story where she achieves this victory without changing in any way or addressing her own psychological issues in some fashion removes exactly the elements that drew me to this series in the first place.

[bigscotman]

Fic Series Idea: Jason and Dick both get de-aged permanently in public at Damian's 13th birthday gala.

They both get de-aged to their 13th birthdays and have their memories from then. Both Zatana and Constantine confirm it's permanent but they also say there's something weird with the spell, it's not a simple de-aging spell but they can't figure out what the difference does.

Exactly a month after they get de-aged they find out. All the memories of the month after their 13th birthdays floods into their mind and the scars and muscle memory appears on/in their bodies.

The 2 Robins think it's cool but are secretly kinda scared because by the time they get to their original ages they'll be completely different people from both who they are now and who they became because sure they'll have their memories and bodies and muscle memory but they'll also have the memories of growing up again.

The rest of the batfam is horrified because this means Jason is going to have to re-experience dying and the pit and everything else and Dick going to have to re-experience all the shit that's happened to him. Being the "completely emotionally competent" people they are they sorta just decide to ignore that and resolve themselves to be better this time round (for Bruce and Alfred) and be good big-little siblings (for the rest).

Damian is also 13 and while it's a little hard to get past the fact that his Akhi and Richard are now the same age as him they become a terrifying trio especially since they can now teach each other a lot easier since they're the same age. Dick teaches them acrobatics and gymnastics and Jason and Damian are having a much easier time picking them up than when older Dick taught them. Jason teaches them how to interact with the people of the alley, victims, etc. and the dirty tricks he'd pull when in a bind as well as general street smarts like places to sleep and how to spot safe and dangerous people etc. which allows Dick and Damian to become a lot closer to the people of Gotham than they were before. Damian teaches them a bunch of stuff from the LoA so Jason and Dick become more effective fighters sooner.

At the beginning of every month Dick and Jason sit down with Alfred for tea and talk about the memories and scars they got the previous night while Alfred reminisces about that time. Sometimes the others join but not often, the most likely to join are Damian or Duke with Steph second most likely.

Obviously they can't go out as Robin so they pick new identities. Jason starts as Flamebird and then changes to Phoenix when he remembers he died. Damian gives Robin back to Dick and changes his name to Shadow.

They also get some new teachers since all of B's training will eventually come back to them. Cass teaches the 3 stealth at Damian's request. Tim and Cass somehow rope in both Lady Shiva and Richard Dragon. Jason finds out about the All-Blades because he accidentally summons them when looking for a knife to cut some bread and his memories of the All-Caste come flooding back and then he begs Bruce to get them magic teachers and Damian and Dick join him, Bruce eventually caves and the 3 become the apprentices of the whole of Justice League Dark.

Also the All-Caste isn't destroyed in this timeline and Jason brings Dick and Damian to it. Essence may or may not literally pass out because of how adorable the 3 are and they get some training there too.

By the time they're all 18 they're 3 of the strongest people on the planet. Dick is their moral compass and has basically become Nightwing but better this time. Jason is both completely different and the same, he's by far the most brutal of the 3 and isn't afraid to kill but if Dick tells him not to kill someone then he won't because Dick is the best out of the 3 of them at telling who could actually change and get help (pedos and rapists are still fair game tho). Damian is as good at stealth as Cass and has an affinity for shadow magic, Jason's penchant for theatrics also rubbed off on him, he also isn't afraid to kill but only does so in the most dire of circumstances. If the 3 show up together you know it's some really big threat but everyone also relaxes majorly.

Damian is the tallest of the 3 at 6ft 5 and has a similar build to Dick but slightly bulkier. Jason comes next at 6ft 4 (yes Damian makes fun of him for it but they both make fun of B for only being 6ft without the bat suit) and has a more similar build to Bruce but slightly stockier with larger muscles. Dick is the shortest at only 5ft 10 and has a slim yet highly muscular build.

Damian is the one that thinks and acts the most like Batman or an assassin in the field mainly using gadgets and stealth. Dick acts much more circus acrobat like by using his magic to create trapezes and whips and ropes and stuff. Jason makes heavy use of magic and is basically what if Red Hood had actual magic rather than just the All-Blades.

[fatuismooches]

pulchra mendacium.

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

includes: dottore (omega) w/ gn! reader

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

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

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

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

The Omega segment was the exception.

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

Memory loss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your touch feels familiar.”

“Does it?” You nodded slightly.

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

“I’m glad, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My name is Zandik.”

—

What followed afterward was what he had expected to happen.

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

“You said you are my husband, right?”

“Yes.”

“So… that means you l-love me then…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where we first met.” 

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But why?” Omega paused before he responded.

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

“How come?”

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

“I-Is that so?”

“It is,” your husband grinned at you.

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

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

“And I put up with that?”

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

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

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

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

“Please, continue then,” you urged him.

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Such as?”

“Locking you out of the dorm for one.”

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

“However, I do have one request.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, you were his.

All his.

—

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

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

It was wonderful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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