#the aftermath of it would be brutal i think

[nickeverdeen]

Hey, could I request a yandere alphabet for Abby from TLOU? I was thinking for fem!reader specifically, but I'm not sure if gender would make a difference in your headcanons? Anyways, I just thought it'd be interesting too see how you think the trope would fit into Abby's story? (also because- the main reason i'm requesting ahaha- i have a big crush on abby and i'm a fan of the yandere trope. sue me)

Abby Anderson yandere alphabet

A - Affection

Abby shows love through overwhelming protection and acts of service, often without considering how her darling feels about it. She’s fiercely attentive, going to great lengths to ensure they’re cared for—even if her methods come across as suffocating. Her affection is intense, and she struggles to express it softly.

B - Blood

Abby has no problem getting her hands dirty—she’s a survivor in a brutal world, and nothing will stop her from protecting or claiming her darling. She’s willing to kill or maim without hesitation, rationalizing it as necessary to keep them safe.

C - Cruelty

If Abby abducts her darling, she wouldn’t mock them outright, but she’d be brutally straightforward about their situation. She’d explain that this is “for their own good” and that any resistance is futile. Her cruelty would manifest in her lack of empathy for their struggles, not seeing their distress as valid.

D - Darling

Abby would absolutely do things against her darling’s will, particularly when she thinks she knows better. Whether it’s isolating them from others, controlling their movements, or physically restraining them, she justifies it all as keeping them out of harm’s way.

E - Exposed

Abby isn’t one to bare her soul easily, but she might open up to her darling in moments of vulnerability, using her trauma as a way to bond with them. She’d reveal her fears of loss and abandonment, hoping it creates a sense of understanding—even if it’s manipulative.

F - Fight

If her darling fought back, Abby would react with a mix of frustration and determination. She’d likely overpower them, using her strength to reassert control while trying not to hurt them too much. However, their defiance would sting, and she might take it as a personal failure.

G - Game

To Abby, this isn’t a game. She takes her obsession seriously, seeing it as a matter of survival and emotional necessity. Watching her darling try to escape wouldn’t amuse her—it would anger and hurt her, fueling her need to tighten her grip.

H - Hell

The worst experience her darling would endure might be Abby’s explosive temper. If they pushed her too far, she could lash out physically—not enough to cause serious harm, but enough to remind them of her dominance. The emotional aftermath would be just as harrowing, as she alternates between guilt and justification.

I - Ideals

Abby envisions a future where her darling is entirely dependent on her. She dreams of a partnership where they rely on her for protection, care, and love, seeing herself as the only one capable of providing what they need in a dangerous world.

J - Jealousy

Abby’s jealousy is intense and immediate. She lashes out at perceived threats, whether it’s a person, an idea, or even her darling showing too much independence. Her response is usually physical—she’ll eliminate the threat directly or enforce stricter control over her darling.

K - Kisses

Abby’s kisses are firm, possessive, and often unexpected. She uses physical affection as a way to assert her claim, sometimes overwhelming her darling with sudden displays of dominance and intensity.

L - Love letters

Her “courting” style is blunt and straightforward. Abby isn’t one for subtlety; she’d make her feelings clear with gestures that are protective but also intimidating, like following her darling or intervening aggressively in their life to “prove” her love.

M - Mask

Abby’s yandere tendencies don’t differ much from her usual personality, but they amplify her protective instincts and controlling nature. Around others, she might appear composed, but with her darling, she’s much more intense and emotionally volatile.

N - Naughty

Abby’s punishments would be physically imposing. If her darling disobeys or defies her, she might restrain them, isolate them, or use her strength to intimidate. Her punishments are never excessively cruel, but they’re always a stark reminder of her power.

O - Oppression

Abby would take away most of her darling’s autonomy, limiting their ability to leave or interact with others. She’d justify every restriction as necessary for their safety, refusing to acknowledge the harm she’s causing.

P - Patience

Abby is patient up to a point. She’s willing to wait for her darling to “come around,” but her temper flares if she feels disrespected or if progress takes too long. Her patience is heavily dependent on her emotional state.

Q - Quit

If her darling were to escape or die, Abby would be devastated but not entirely broken. She’d throw herself into physical activity or survival work to cope, but the loss would haunt her for the rest of her life. If she thought her darling could be found, she’d never stop looking.

R - Regret

Abby would feel moments of guilt, especially if she hurt her darling or pushed them too far. However, she’d rationalize it as necessary in the grand scheme of things, convincing herself that it’s all for their benefit.

S - Stigma

Her obsession stems from her deep-seated fear of loss and abandonment, likely a result of her traumatic experiences. Having lost so much, Abby latches onto her darling as the one thing she can control and protect.

T - Tears

Seeing her darling cry or scream would unnerve Abby, but she wouldn’t stop. She’d frame it as proof that they need her guidance and protection, using their distress to reinforce her own importance in their life.

U - Unique

Abby’s uniqueness lies in her physicality. Unlike many classic yanderes who rely on manipulation, Abby uses her sheer strength and survival skills to dominate and control. Her obsession feels more grounded in practicality than in fantasy.

V - Vice

Abby’s biggest weakness is her guilt and desire for validation. If her darling played on these emotions, showing signs of acceptance or manipulating her into believing she’s “won,” they might be able to buy themselves an opportunity to escape.

W - Wit’s end

Abby is unlikely to intentionally hurt her darling severely, but if pushed to her breaking point, she might lash out in a moment of rage. However, her remorse would kick in immediately, leading to desperate attempts to “fix” the damage.

X - Xoanon

Abby doesn’t revere her darling in a traditional sense. She sees them as a partner, someone she’s bound to protect and control. Her worship manifests more as possessiveness than adoration, focusing on their survival and dependence on her.

Y - Yearn

Abby wouldn’t pine for long before acting on her feelings. Once she fixates on someone, she moves quickly, believing that taking action is the only way to ensure they’re safe and hers.

Z - Zenith

Abby wouldn’t intentionally break her darling, but her controlling and intense nature might wear them down over time. She doesn’t want to destroy their spirit—she wants them to willingly accept her love, even if it takes years of manipulation to get there.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

yaz voice: i keep thinking,,, i keep thinking abt the.....future affecting the past of it all. the "if he runs out of time the hostile action would end and a time machine would know", "im fine because you fixed yourself", and "because it's not a grave"

like if it were me. if it were me. i still would have gone with the villa diodati conundrum. "save the poet, save the universe" what do we do when the poet IS the universe. "watch people burn now or tomorrow" like the distinction exists? like tomorrow isnt yesterday?

so we make them face the child. the doctor loses this one, right? too beholden to their rules. lost with shelley, will lose with the child. because there is no way to win it. not with the rules of the universe theyve clung to up to this point. not without play

so theres a child that needs to be saved but the doctor cant do it because it will take the foundation out from under the universe. she Can Not interfere. she fails to be the doctor when it comes to herself. but yaz is there. doctor's doctor. wont accept this. saves the child

the universe crumbles, but this or tecteun's revenge the outcome is similar except. the universe that crumbles if you save the child is the timelords' universe, their imposed histories, their laws, their logic. nothing makes sense anymore. it's terrifying. gotta let go gotta let go gotta let go. you HAVE to play. play or perish. please it's not that serious. it's just identity! funniest game there is. listen to the master; tag, youre it

[cuteniarose]

Me: *creates an OC*

Me: *heavily implies OC will meet a bad fate*

OC: *meets bad fate*

Me:

(Alternatively, I may have started it, but @katkastrofa enabled me and now I’m losing my mind)

[adyophene]

Radiotrio day 6: Roleswap!

Alastor - Charlie

Husk - Vaggie

Niffty - Angeldust

Deets under cut!

"Alastor":

Alastor is actually Cain going under a pseudonym. He's trying to redeem sinners not out of the goodness of his heart, but as a fuck you towards Adam, his estranged deadbeat Father. He vaguely believes redemption is possible, but on the outside he gives off the vibe of thinking its nonsense. Eve, who is in hell, is the one payrolling the whole thing. As the first Sinner in hell she holds a bit of power. (Eve - Lucifer swap)

Al exclusively advertises the Hotel through radio commercials and jingles and doesn't really care that it is probably is why no one knows about it.

"Husk":

A fallen angel who always fucked off and drank and gambled during exterminations instead of killing sinners. When he caught his wings were chopped off and he was left for dead. Alastor found him and offered him a deal. Al would keep Husk's identity secret so long as Husk worked for him. Husk tried to refuse and goad Al into finishing him off, but was instead lured into a bet. He lost and became Al's right hand cat.

Husk doesn't believe in redemption at all. He is trapped in Heaven's mindset that once you fucked up you're done forever. He puts up with Al's antics with a heavy amount of booze.

Niffty:

Hell's favorite killing machine. Niffty is a weapons spokesperson working for Carmilla. She's recorded by a camera crew when she goes out to kill his rivals and its all pitched as a fun and brutal reality show with a star who revels in the thrill of the hunt. Niffty loves her craft and is extremely skilled, but is becoming burnt out. She suffers from an addiction to amphetamines to keep up her 'high energy camera persona'. (When exhausted she just ends up freezing out and staring into the camera ala the gag in the show.)

Niffty is ambivalent about redemption, but likes to stay at the hotel cause she likes Al and Husk, and because it gives her a break from work.

Charlie: A former human who made a deal with Lucifer so she could come down to hell and try to help the undeserving sinners there. She is absolutely ecstatic about the hotel and is all but overbearing in trying to help Alastor achieve his goal.

Vaggie: A sinner who went to hell for her 'extremely violent tendencies', despite the fact that all her actions were in the protection of herself and family/home. Charlie found her in the aftermath of a territory dispute, and after helping her/hearing about her backstory, all but glued Vaggie to her side. Vaggie doesn't believe in redemption, due to her guilt/shame over her violent past, but is dragged along by Charlie.

Angeldust:

Charlie's mysterious and excitable friend. Angel loves a good 'naughty boy' and doesn't so much as clean, but rather struts about posing in whatever meido costume he likes for the day. Charlie knows his past and is the reason he works at the hotel. She thinks he is a good candidate for redemption. Angel doesn't really care either way and is just happy for a shit easy job that he can dress up cute for and slack off all he likes!

I don't know when, but I might come back to this roleswap idea in the future and expand out other swaps!

[dadsbongos]

do u think u could write some of ur own personal headcanons for laios? i love the way u write him, it seems almost canon!

anon you dont know what fire youre messing with

also thank yew hehe :>

general headcanons:

Laios likes babysitting but does NOT want to be a real papa, he adores the idea of being the Cool And Strange Uncle but just imagining having to raise a whole person from scratch terrifies him

Usually conks out as soon as his head hits the pillow and he’s a damn heavy sleeper, he strikes me as someone that gets the dad snore when he’s a bit older

Likes doing physical activity in the moment, maintaining his stamina/strength n whatnot. But HAAATES the aftermath, he will not stop bitching about how gross he feels when sweaty

People scare him but I think men specifically scare him more than women because he mainly associates “men” with his old boarding school and military peers and his dad. Meanwhile the most callous woman he’s personally dealt with is like. his mom… who wasn’t particularly menacing and he doesn’t seem to resent her as much as he does his father

Most definitely called Chilchuck “chil” in their early days together and got his nuts sacked for the unintentional disrespect

Doesn’t drink often because the taste bugs him but when he does decide to, he drinks to get drunk. So it has to be a special occasion

The type of older brother to tell Falin food fills up your body from your feet to your head and when you’re full to your head you die

modern headcanons:

Definitely the type to unironically use little emoticons like :) or :] but his favorites are the cute ones like :3 , ^.^ , and :0

Would’ve played barbies with Falin as a kid and enjoyed it more than Falin did lol

If he were out with the group (marcille would have to threaten his life though, he would HATE “going out”) and Marcille or Falin deferred to him to deal with creepy men he’d feel like a superhero about it

Borderline mandated to have a high impact phone case by Falin because he’s GOT to be dropping that shit all the time. I just know it (projecting)

Would probably dislike resident evil as a series but thinks the premises are cool

Bouncing off that: he’s a big Undertale and Deltarune fan (definitely had a thing for Toriel at some point and probably thought sans was kind of overrated). Has ambivalent feelings towards fear & hunger, likes the atmosphere and item preservation and monsters but the assault scenes and overt brutalism ick him out from recommending it

Would go his whole life without an autism diagnosis until eventually held at metaphorical gunpoint by his friends, just for his parents to go “oh yeah we had you tested as a kid but didn’t want you using it as a crutch”

If monsters weren’t real he’d be cryptid autistic just so everyone’s on the same page

Cryptids major and ocean creatures minor type autism

I don’t think he’s straight by any measure but before he has the Realization, he’s the epitome of the girls gays and coleman meme

Segue omg: he has no desire to think more about his sexuality or gender than “i feel x” or “i choose y”. I think he identifies as Man(TM) but in a “its harder to explain i want to be a bog” way. If you referred to him with feminine pronouns or called him “girl” he seriously wouldn’t give a shit 

nsfw(?) headcanons:

Could never do casual, you would have to be committed or only know each other VERY distantly and only do it once. His ass wouldn’t know how to read your relationship if you were trying to do friends with benefits (he’s also very concerned with hurting people’s feelings so just the notion of accidentally doing that to someone he’s intimate with would kill him)

May seem strange coming from a bitch always talkin about fucking him, but I think Laios would actually have kind of a lower sex drive. Like he maybe doesn’t get needy very often but also isn’t NOT in the mood, so if you proposition him and he’s into you he’ll be like “okie :3”

That being said, when he does feel needy he’s NEEDY. It’s debilitating, he genuinely can’t do or think of anything else until his poor wee is taken care of :( poor guy aww

I can see him being a virgin until his early-mid 20s and having no shame about it (good for him go king, virginity is nothing to be ashamed of it literally doesn’t matter)

Also by virgin i mean rice purity test score of like 97

Swears he doesn’t like having his cock worshipped (says its weird and embarrassing) but he’s so flustered n drooly and babbles the whole time

Biter 

[cheqorb]

your mer-love fic was so good and ugh i LOVE mermaid au’s (esp with blue lock but theres BARELY any)!!

anyways u should do a pt 2 of your mer-love drabble/fic with rin, sae, kaiser and ness!! i’d love to read it if you do

MER-LOVE, 1.3

mermaid au! bllk boys with a researcher! reader

featuring. rin, sae, kaiser, ness

notes. thank-you for requesting anon! this might be absolute dogwater but hope you enjoy this…a few months after you even asked this (sorryyyy).

mer-love masterlist here !

any interactions with RIN are short and definitely not sweet. if he isn’t being harassed by any other mers that are interested in him, he normally stays around you because you “don’t bother him as much as the others do”. quoted by rin himself; which is considerably high praise coming from the rather aloof merman.

you probably first meet him simply because he got dragged by bachira or the like, but he’s not much of a conversation starter since he just sorta glared at you the whole time. it doesn’t get much better from that point onwards either, you’d think rin believed the world was against him by the way perfectly normal, well-meaning compliments are thrown to the side as if you’re insulting him.

with time though, he’ll start growing more fond of you! how can you tell? unless you’re freakishly talented at guessing people’s real emotions, who knows.

he (kinda) gets cuter in a way? maybe it’s just you being optimistic but you could’ve sworn that he has this look of pride whenever you choose to spend time with him over the other mers. like, of course you don’t want to hang out with weaklings like them or something along those lines. it takes a while but he’s noticeably softer with you than he is with his friends — he actually calls them lukewarm, but that’s just rin for ‘friends’ you think.

“Rin, ya there?”

He stares at you with mild disbelief, which almost makes you burst into a fit of laughter. “Since i’m very clearly here next to you, I think the answer’s quite obvious.”

You nod, grinning. “Thought you’d say that but anyways,” you say whilst reaching into a bag, “I wanted to give you a present! Take it as a token of my gratitude for you chatting with me.”

He eyes the object you give him coldly, but takes it anyway with a ghost of a smile on his face. How adorable.

SAE is someone very hard to come by, and even harder to start conversation with that don’t end in him just swimming away from you. if you thought talking to rin was like talking to a brick wall, just wait till you meet this guy.

he’s seemingly apathetic to anything and everything, incredibly blunt, and overall not a very nice guy. at least his lil brother doesn’t outright ignore you (he does call you an NPC and half baked though)! speaking of which, if you meet rin first you can definitely see the resemblance between the two. appearance is a main one, you would know those under-lashes from anywhere and now you definitely know where he gets the attitude from.

any signs of him ‘warming up’ to you are basically non existent. he’s as straightforward as ever and isn’t keen on the idea of suddenly being all over you like humans normally seem to do with the people they like.

to give credit where credit is due, he tries? even though he’s still a bit brutal with his delivery, you think he tries to avoid being so aggressive with his tone. he’s not exactly sugarcoating things, but simply not saying what’s on his mind as much as he used to. that whole spiel about if you’ve got nothing nice to say, don’t say anything, right? and besides, just him tolerating your presence should be enough for you to understand he’s trying to be nice (it really isn’t).

Sae has a talent for ruining any positive conversations with his honesty, the aftermath typically being him leaving the person or awkward silence ensues. To give credit where credit is due however, you also think he’s got a talent for somehow making people feel better.

He doesn’t sugarcoat things and while it can be harsh, it also means that compliments from him are genuine.

He listens to you rambling on about some annoying incidents at work, making the effort to nod every once in a while to remind you that he’s paying attention. “Sounds like something you can deal with yourself. There’s no reason to worry yourself about it, that’s a waste of your time.”

amidst a certain merman’s grumbling of someone called ‘KAISER’, you gain snippets of info that paint a less-than-flattering picture of the merman. he sounds like a major jerk. yet, despite his (isagi’s) colourful descriptions shall we say, you can't help but wonder if this kaiser fellow’s supposed villainy is just an exaggeration. but then again, to evoke such hatred from the usually amiable merman, he must be quite the character.

your first encounter with him is unremarkable, only seeing him as another mermaid who decided to show their face and you as some random human.

his curiosity is piqued however when he notices how fond the other merfolk are of you, and in typical kaiser fashion he’s determined to outshine everyone else. from your perspective, he’s just a weird dude. it’s as if he expects you to be grateful for his attention, even though it’s clear that he’s the one vying for your approval.

it’d be somewhat cute if it were anybody else, you think..? on him, it’s aggravating.

and yet, the more you pull away, the more determined he seems to become to disrupt any semblance of peace you have. he appears so often that you’ve grown to actually tolerate his presence and it even amuses you sometimes if the day is particularly boring. kaiser finds you just…okay (liar). he means- you’re nothing special so don’t get ahead of yourself but like, if YOU wanted to, he wouldn’t mind being with you until nightfall.

also don’t mention the sheer disgust and almost betrayal on his face whenever he sees one of your total losers of a colleague on watch duty instead of you. even worse if they’re partnered with you.

Judging by the very obvious glare Kaiser has on his face, you would say that he’s not too pleased with the sight of you and (coworker) together. Still, he could at least try be more discreet about it. You sigh as your companion only spares you a sympathetic look.

What’s annoying is that Kaiser occasionally glances in your direction — of course, whilst still glaring daggers at (coworker). Like he wants you to do something about them tagging along.

Having enough of it, you say, “Kaiser, you’re embarrassing me over here and yourself.” He pauses for a moment before simply turning around, probably sulking over the fact that you do indeed have relationships with other people that don’t involve him. That, or he’s embarrassed he got called out.

you’ll naturally come across NESS if you’ve already met kaiser and at first, you simply took him for the more timid type which could be the reason why he follows the former around like a lost puppy. wrong. not in the slightest.

well that’s a little harsh, but you mean that while he definitely has a bashful quality to him, he also seems to flip completely if you dare make a comment about kaiser. it’s a little scary. in spite of his dedication shall we call it, he’s actually one of the easiest mers to get along with. talk to him normally, avoid the topic of kaiser too often, spare some affection for him and he’s all over you soon enough!

just being generally nice around him is something he’ll appreciate it even if he doesn’t say it outright. poor thing is a little unfamiliar with people showing him basic human (or in this case merfolk) decency. makes you want to pat him on the head and spoil him a bit/squish him until he breaks — depending on what type of person you are, i guess.

when he gets more comfortable with you, ness is also clingy. like, really clingy. practically chasing after the other mers if they dare come within 10ft of you kind of clingy. it’s one of those rare moments where you appreciate the fact that kaiser is there since ness is still able to be reasoned if he’s there with him. sounds a little toxic at first but just set him straight and be patient with him. the end result is (hopefully) a slightly more relaxed version of him.

“…You alright, Ness?” you ask hesitantly. The merman in question is suspiciously quiet, especially after he just got into a mini spat with someone else.

Now, he looks up at you as if you’re a saint which weirds you out even more. He nods his head, before asking, “Are you worried about me?”

You’d think it was intended to be a snide comment, if it weren’t for the fact that you were dealing with Ness here. Besides, he says it so sincerely that you’d feel bad for poking fun at him. Maybe later though. “Of course.”

It seems to light up his whole world.

[two-white-butterflies]

how can beauty that is living, be anything but true?

Description: Daemon being adored and treated well by his loving wife while they talk about war and its aftermath.

Pairing: daemon targaryen/reader

A/N: quite short.

"I feared the worst when the King sent his letter," you say.

Daemon has always been unpredictable. He did as he pleased, took and took until the entire realm inevitably bent to his desires. "- three years away in war, and not a single word." You glared, seeing him take a step inside of your shared chambers.

Your handmaidens tell you that he returned during the night, and slept in a separate chamber lest he interrupt your sleep.

"I tried to write, my lady, but the enemy would strike our ravens down." He replies, amused. "You should've marched here on foot," you snapped, accepting his reason, but not letting him know.

"Targaryen princes have been taken by fickler things than war." You provided a reminder, but he silences you with a kiss to your forehead. Followed by a silent stare, a reminder that there is nothing in this world that would keep you from him.

"Yet, I am alive." He responds, though there were many nights he spent wishing otherwise. "Barely alive," you corrected. "I've heard rumors." You added with a prolonged sigh. There were at least five different rumors of his death, some say that he was impaled by arrows, hit by dozens of swords, or drowned, never to be seen again.

His expression changes for a second, but he composes himself before you even notice. "Rumors are skewed versions of the truth." He wraps his arms around your body, inhaling your scent that he has forgotten after three years smelling only sea and sand. "- but they still hold somewhat of a truth." You hiss.

"You promised me that if anything were to happen to you, that you'd return immediately." You held that promise above his head.

"Dragons don't run with their tails in between of their legs," he argues. "So, you were hurt in battle?" You raised an eyebrow.

You were aware of his duties, that he couldn't abandon them easily, but he could've at least whispered information about his welfare. "A scratch compared to the soldiers who will never return to their families," he answered the question without answering the question.

"What happened, Daemon?" your voice turns sweet at the utterance of his name. "Arrows, fire, swords, and a couple wounds to remember them by." He still refuses to tell you the whole truth. "Show me," you plead. Something behind his eyes shifts. His pupils become watery, almost leaking tears - but your husband does not cry.

He'd rather hide his sorrows behind a mask of cold callousness.

He does not take his eyes away from yours. He focuses on your features, your eyes, your lips, your nose - features that he's engraved in the back of his head to save him from the brutal pictures that unfolded in front of him during battle.

He gently unbuttons his tunic. He takes your hand and places it on the healed skin. A wound that spanned from his shoulder down to his stomach diagonally. "All I could think about while fighting that battle was how stupid my brother and his hand are for believing that I want to supplant Rhaenyra and claim his throne as mine." Daemon laughs.

"Men like that, my lady, those who sit on iron thrones know nothing about war. Soldiers die on the battlefield to ensure our safety, to ensure that our stone castles remain fortified against invaders. They know nothing of the mothers and wives that have lost their sons and husbands. I scorn my brother, I really do." He whispers, lest anyone except you hears his confession.

"I cannot even imagine the depths of your sorrow, lord husband." Your eyebrows merged together, wrapping him in a warm embrace. "I made it mine advocacy to return home. I could not bear to think of your sadness. Young, very beautiful and widowed." He breathes.

"I love you, Daemon."

"Likewise, my lady."

[chatsukimi]

eternal: ten cursed fingers, born from the flame

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: sukuna x fem!reader, fluff, some angst, heianera!sukuna. pt 2.

When Sukuna enters the workshop, he is fifteen and mortal, and you are tending flames by the furnace.

Afternoon sun casts through the straw ceiling. You blink twice as you stare at the doorway. Heaving against it, a boy. Sunspots dance in your eyes.

'Please. Please, I'm dying. Help me!' he begs, and his wrists come up to strangle either side of your face, blood filling your tunic in buckets.

Brutal.

He is a curse user, you sense, his energy pouring out like his soul. You could feel it, flooding the plain room, his impending death.

You are young and what the elders say about helping strangers don't faze you. 'Put your hands in the fire.'

'No!'

His eyes are rolling back. He doesn't have much time left.

You grab his arm, dragging his doll-limp figure to the fire. You shove it into the coal.

Observing the healing, your grandfathers' words echo vaguely at the back of your head. They would come asking for it over and over again. They would chase you like immortality. But maybe, you think, maybe he would save dozens with those hands.

What preoccupies you more, though, squatting beside the boy, is the wonder alit in this stranger's face as his hands glisten back to life by the flames until what touches her is not slime and blood, but tender flesh. Bare fingers.

When he leaves, he does not tell you his name, nor ask for his whereabouts, nor thank you. He does not smile, and he gives no compensation. With the rags on his body, though, you do not think he has enough.

He does not do a lot of things, but the last thing you remember of your first meeting with this boy is that he did not say goodbye.

...

He, indeed, returns. He wears a stone carved lion mask.

'I do not think it's fair that I give you weapons for free,' you say, holding up a sceptre for the -now- man.

He chuckles. Sukuna shows you his innate technique: slash. Examining his technique for hours on end, you welded weapons with similar precision.

Through the years, he arrives later and later at the footsteps of your house during the night. He stops calling out for you from the door. Instead, appears frankly at the furnace where you sleep.

'Fuga,' he whispers, like an inside joke, against your ear- open. At first, you startled awake and nearly bashed him in the face. But you know now that despite his stoicism he is smiling under the mask, appearing on the opposite side of the room in an instant.

A little part of you rejoices at knowing this was an important man you have saved, though your fingers never touched.

You can tell from how he stands with solidifying confidence, toys with the necklace around your neck with the symbol of the Sun, Moon and Stars Squadron without ever grazing your skin, and the cursed energy blistering the summer air now greater than any sorcerer you'd met, he was great. All of the Fujiwara Clan combined does not compare.

Electricity trills under your pulse.

Ten years, he comes and goes.

You do not ask for his name. He does not ask for yours. Sometimes you catch him glancing at you in the corner of your eye, as you're tending the flames.

Years pass.

You forget his face.

You wonder, in his aftermath, if he will forget yours. One day he will get tired of the same old swords in the same old countryside home, you're sure of it. But he drives on back each time like an old man seeking immortality.

When he leaves, you stare at the designs of weapons you gave him. What great things would he achieve with those at his side? Your grandfather never tells you about any jujutsu affairs. Leave the girl to sword-making is his motto.

...

A rumour passes from ear to ear from the Southern Clans to the North. A sorcerer is tearing up villages in a one-person massacre to consume their flesh.

Every villager now inks black prayers on their carriages. Prayers to the living god.

You think, it doesn't hurt.

You, too, stick up rice paper on your windows to shield against the monster you know does not care, roaming through the woods in carnage.

...

The next time he comes, the man is wearing a demon mask.

Half his body, gone.

You push him to a chair. You kneel between his legs. Your hand hovers over his abdomen, where the flimsy stitches had failed to ease the bowels from overflowing. You frown. A flame blossoms from your palm, piecing his body back together. He clenches his teeth and watches you.

Cursed Flame: burns anything back to its prior state.

'What Special Grade curse could do something like this?'

He does not answer.

His sheer height has you sinking into your ankles in respect.

As you back away from the fire, you stumble into his chest. Your feet catch in the mat. In the times before, he had never attempted to touch you. Now his hand is tilting your head up, holding your chin, to look at his face, whom you had never seen before in full view.

You flinch.

Your exhale escapes as a gasp.

‘Are you scared?’

Now you realise what is so frightening about the demon who brutalises whole villages, consumes their flesh- living god. So, this is what thousands died seeing. You swallow, because he is beautiful, this four-eyed demon.

Before you utter a word, he leaves the room.

You whip your head around to inspect the windows. Nothing but wind howls against the house. No shadows but your own etches onto the tatami mat by the fire.

Rippling from all four directions, a voice booms: ‘bow.’

Your knees hit the ground. When he enters the room again, he stops before you. You dare not look at his feet.

The Fujiwara Clan teach their daughters well.

‘Stand.’

Is this a trick? With your head still bowed, you press onto one knee. ‘I do not feel enough to equal your presence, Ryomen Sukuna.’

He laughs.

Oh, how he laughs. So his name truly has spread like wildfire through the Clans, big and small. But something nicks at him, that he cannot see your eyes flickering with your flame, or your mouth working the irregular candy you chew, sometimes, on the job, when you feel comfortable around him. In those moments, he would get the urge to reach out and touch your shoulder, just for your reaction. Would you drop the sword to wrap those flaming hands around him so that he could feel some warmth?

'No. I tell you to rise so you rise.' You stand up. 'What's my name?'

'Ryomen Sukuna.'

'No.' He cups your face with his palm as he'd often dreamt of, when he was a teenager. As he'd often planned, when he grew older into the adult he is now. 'For you, I am Ryo.'

...

Ryo.

He likes it when you look at his face. He tells you sometimes, 'this is what you saved.' The four eyes blinking back at you.

He likes the smell of ash by your neck and often pushes his nose against your skin. An animal, you think to yourself, smiling.

Ryo, he takes what he wants, as the powerful do, so when the day comes, he says, 'come with me.' Out of nowhere.

He leads you out, facing the fields of darling grass and daffodils.

He hasn’t thought this through but he doesn't need to. He opens his mouth, ready to ask the question.

‘I can’t…’ He turns around to watch you speak. ‘... can’t bear child.’

For once, although you have denied his request, his face remains void of anger. Void of anything at all.

At twenty five years old, that’s all Sukuna knows what to want. If he cannot have the girl, then steal something else- after all, what are you worth?

‘Then give me something else.’

‘Have my flame.’ His eyes widen. You press on, ‘but you will protect me, in case my family decides to kill me. The flame is a sacred technique passed down from the family. But when I die, it will be yours.’

Without her cursed technique, she would be ostracised.

Everyone comes to the negotiation table with some line they would not cross. And Sukuna swore to never become a protector.

His mouth pronounces, ‘no.’

'Then what do you want, Ryo?'

He stares at you. He's never denied himself any pleasure in his life, but the way his heart skips a beat- it's what's made his enemies weak to be culled, what brings down great empires (love).

Surely, you would be his downfall.

He could not have you.

'Never mind. I want your Technique.'

He would live 1000 years wondering why those flames in his palms would perform in silence. He’d move them with grace to murder. He’d stare at the sparkling embers in a lake, waiting for it to shift and shape into some form without his control. He would realise, ages and eons in, that he had forgot to specify the fusion of their souls.

‘Deal.’

You were always an abnormally weak sorcerer in body. Never trained to exorcise a curse. Perhaps that’s another reason he suggested it, his one mistake. You were his to protect -no matter how he’d protest- but never were you with him again.

...

The next day, Sukuna wipes out the Fujiwara Clan in its entirety. Destroys them so badly no one recognises the corpses.

Mangled. Twisted. Broken.

He destroys the only thing that would've destroyed you.

It is that night at the beach, rain and seawater tangling your hair, you swear to kill him, the boy you saved so many years ago, even if you would be his for eternity.

Your hands tremble. You almost set fire to the sea.

...

'Ryo.' You're brushing his hair as he tips his head back to look at you, unfazed. 'Why do you do what you do?'

He hums, tangling his fingers through yours. 'Why does it matter my purpose?'

'I was just wondering.' You rub at his hands gently, the living things you saved.

Apparently disliking the silence, Sukuna speaks again. 'I do whatever I want, however I want. I have no purpose.'

When you kill him, he almost grins, as though proud. Had he always acted like this? The strange and feral monster.

'Are you ready to die now?' you ask. Some part of you still recalls the child wailing at the prospect of death.

Sukuna cackles, but before he even flinches as the sword digs through his skin and bones, he props his head before yours, kissing your lips as though playing a trick on you.

His scarlet eyes forever haunt your memory, reflecting the silver of your sword and the red of your flames.

'I'm always ready for you... ... and anyways death is not eternal.'

When the flames extinguish, you realise you had left none of him behind, but the hands. Ten cursed fingers, born and killed from the flame.

pt 2.

[mononijikayu]

already gone – gojo satoru.

(manga spoilers for chapter 261)

His eyes flicked to yours, a flicker of pain and understanding passing between you. In that moment, you both knew that there would be no going back to the way things were. The choices made here would haunt you, but you also knew that you would face the future together, bound by the shared weight of your decisions and the unspoken promise of support.

GENRE: shinjiku showdown arc (spoilers for chapter 261)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: already gone by sleeping at last

NOTE: im mourning so hard, i haven't stopped crying. but i cried more because i can't imagine how my oc would feel considering genmei views satoru as her lifeline. im not even at that part of the story writing, but genmei would be hit hard. she wouldnt be able to move on. she wouldn't be able to stop crying either. but i needed to write this, to get the emotional brunt off my chest. i hope that this comforts you a little as it did with me. i love you all. hugs for everyone.

masterlist

u s and t h e m

THERE REALLY WAS NO GOING BACK FROM THIS. You and Satoru sat alone amidst the aftermath, the bodies of the higher-ups lying around you, a grim testament to the brutal reality you both faced. 

The silence was heavy, a suffocating weight that pressed down on your chest as you stared at the carnage. The acrid scent of blood and death hung in the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang that coated your tongue. Each breath felt like an effort, the gravity of what had transpired settling over you like a dark cloud.

Satoru, usually so carefree and unbothered, looked uncharacteristically solemn. His usually bright, mischievous eyes were shadowed with emotions embroiling into a chaotic harmony. 

He sat close to you, his hand resting on the ground beside yours, fingers almost brushing but not quite. The unspoken connection between you had always been palpable. Even when both of you were a bit younger. It was if anything, even when you both lost Suguru, a thin thread of solace in the midst of the horror.

You glanced at Satoru, seeking some form of reassurance, but his gaze was fixed on the bodies, his jaw clenched tight. The weight of the recent events bore down on you both, the decisions made, the lives taken, all swirling in a chaotic maelstrom of regret and necessity. 

There was no other choice. Not when there was such little time, when there was no way you would leave this for the kids to wrap up. It was a moment where the true cost of your responsibilities became painfully clear, the price paid in blood and sacrifice. This is all that will secure the future.

Satoru finally broke the silence, his voice low and rough. "We did what we had to." he said, more to himself than to you, as if trying to convince himself of the necessity of their actions. “Don’t think too much.”

You nodded, though your heart ached with the truth of his words. "I know." you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "But after all this time, I thought it would be easier.”

You did think it was easier. You knew what it was like to kill human beings. The act of taking a life was not foreign to you; it had been part of your existence as a jujutsu sorcerer for as long as you could remember. The initial shock and horror of it had dulled over time, replaced by a grim acceptance of necessity. Each death was a means to an end, a way to protect the innocent, to rid the world of curses, to maintain balance. Yet, today felt different.

The bodies of the higher-ups lay sprawled around you, their lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. These were not faceless enemies or malevolent curses; these were people you had known, some for years. Their ambitions, their fears, their humanity—it all lay exposed in the finality of their deaths. You and Satoru had made a choice, one born out of desperation and the need for a new order, but the cost of that choice now weighed heavily on your soul.

You have always been able to justify your actions in the past. Each kill had been a step toward a greater good, a necessary evil in the grand scheme of things. But this? This felt like a betrayal of the very essence of what you stood for. These were your peers, your allies, albeit flawed and corrupt. The distinction between right and wrong blurred, leaving you adrift in a sea of moral ambiguity.

Satoru's hand tightened around yours, a silent anchor in the storm of your thoughts. His presence was a reminder that you were not alone in this, that he too bore the weight of what you had done. You glanced at him, searching for some semblance of solace in his expression. His face was a mask of determination, but his eyes—those piercing blue eyes—betrayed a depth of sorrow that mirrored your own.

His eyes flicked to yours, a flicker of pain and understanding passing between you. In that moment, you both knew that there would be no going back to the way things were. The choices made here would haunt you, but you also knew that you would face the future together, bound by the shared weight of your decisions and the unspoken promise of support.

“Hm, it doesn’t.”

Silence engulfs you both.

Your eyes flared downward.

A sigh passes through your lips.

"It's not in you to have liked to do this." you finally said, breaking the silence. Your voice trembled with the weight of unspoken emotions, the sorrow churning in layers unknown. “To decide the upper floors had to go.”

Satoru sighed, his gaze fixed on the horizon, a faraway look in his eyes. "We had no choice," he replied, his voice devoid of its usual lightheartedness. "We have no more time to indulge in the future."

There was so much you wanted to say, so many arguments and pleas that burned on the tip of your tongue. But the words refused to come, trapped in the maelstrom of your conflicted heart. Satoru seemed to sense your turmoil, turning to face you, his piercing blue eyes searching yours.

"Just say it," he urged gently. "Tell me how you hate me for what Yuuta and I agreed to do, should I lose to Sukuna."

You met his gaze, the pain and love in your eyes reflected in his own. "I do hate you," you whispered, the confession tearing at your soul. "Because I love you too much."

Satoru's expression softened, and he stood, walking over to you. He pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. "The loss of me will pass," he murmured against your hair, his breath warm on your skin. “Hm? You will always move forward. You have to.”

You clung to him, the thought of losing him more than you could bear. "You say it as it is. I had to. Not because I wanted to.”

He laughs a little, echoes of guilt layered among it.. “But you will this time too.”

This is what you think you hated the most about Satoru. How settled he was in his ways, how stubborn he was with his plan. It was a means to an end. As long as it brought down the system, he didn’t care about what happened. As long as his students lived, he didn’t care. And yet you wondered, what he would leave you with. 

How much emptiness, how much grief he would let you settle for years and years — because he cared more about the world he wanted to build. In a way, you loved Satoru too much. You loved him so much you went against the world you had always known.

You had a dream of a normal life. Once when Kaiko and Namie were alive. Once with Shoko, Suguru and Satoru. When all you had left was Satoru, you were determined to live for him. 

But you never gave up on that dream That you would have that white picket fence life. That you would raise a family. That you would grow old with him. But you should have known. You should have known that he was too far gone for you to reach. 

Even with all the love that was between you, you should have known that love would not be enough to bring him back to life. Gojo Satoru had decided that love was a curse. And he lived by it. Geto Suguru had given it to him. 

And he had accepted it. And since that day, you knew that he would have never let it go. Yet, what right do you have to judge him for it? You felt the same, when Kaiko died. And you never looked back. 

“I loved you too much to let you just be a passerby in my life," you finally  said, your voice breaking. "I've lost too much already, Satoru. But…. but to lose you would break me."

He held you tighter, his voice steady and resolute. "You have to be strong, for me and for everyone, y’know that." he said. "They'll need you when I'm gone."

His words cut deep, but you knew he was right. The world would keep turning. The sun would keep moving forward. The march of time, the echo of life would not change. It will go on and on. Even without him. People would need you to be there, to fight for them, to protect them. But the thought of a world without him was a dark, hollow void in your life, in your heart. In your soul. More tears flowed in your eyes. 

Memories echoed in your head, as though they were just reels of your life in a picture show. You knew he could see it too, as though his six-eyes could see it as painfully as you could. As clearly as possible. Eleven years of life, motioned into small moments. Small  moments that encompassed your whole world. Because he was your world. He was your whole world. 

2011

You and Satoru spent a day at the beach, the sun high in the sky and the ocean waves crashing gently against the shore. He chased you along the sand, laughter bubbling up as you tried to escape his playful grasp. When he finally caught you, he lifted you up and spun you around, both of you dizzy with happiness.

You collapsed onto the sand together, breathless and smiling. "I wish we could stay here forever," you said, looking out at the endless horizon.

He squeezed your hand, his voice soft and sincere. "We can always come back. This place will always be here for us. We’ll bring Megumi and Tsumiki with us next time too.”

You smile back at him. “I’d like that, Satoru. More than you know.”

2013

One quiet night, you both lay on a blanket under a canopy of stars, the world around you silent and still. Satoru pointed out constellations, his voice a soothing murmur in the darkness.

"There's Orion," he said, tracing the outline with his finger. "And over there is Cassiopeia."

You nestled closer to him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. "Do you think we'll always have moments like this?" you asked softly.

He wrapped an arm around you, his voice filled with certainty. "Always. No matter what happens, we'll always find our way back to each other."

2014

Your New Year's together that year was magical. You stood on a rooftop, watching fireworks light up the night sky. The colors exploded in brilliant patterns, reflecting in Satoru's eyes as he pulled you close.

"Happy New Year," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss.

"Happy New Year," you replied, feeling a sense of hope and excitement for the future. "Let's make this year unforgettable."

He smiled, his arms wrapped securely around you. "Every year with you will be unforgettable."

“You guys make me sick.” Megumi whispered under his breath, taking a bite out of his cake. 

“Megumi, don’t say that! They’re in love.” Tsumiki says, smiling at the sight of you and Satoru.

You both could only laugh.

2017

In the quiet of the night, you and Satoru sat together, your hearts heavy with grief for the loss of Suguru. The weight of his absence hung in the air like a tangible presence, a reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of duty and honor.

Satoru's normally bright eyes were dimmed with sorrow, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the burden he carried. You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours, offering what little comfort you could in the face of such profound loss.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I had to do it. I had no choice."

You squeezed his hand, offering silent understanding and support. "I know," you replied softly. "It wasn't easy, but you did what had to be done. Suguru understood that."

Tears welled in Satoru's eyes as he leaned into your embrace, seeking solace in the warmth of your presence. In that moment of shared sorrow, you held each other close, finding strength in your love and the knowledge that you would always be there for one another, no matter what trials lay ahead.

Satoru pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a sorrowful intensity. "Remember all the things we wanted?" he began softly. "Now all our memories, they're haunted."

Tears welled in your eyes as his words resonate deeply within you. "We were always meant to say goodbye." you whispered, your voice trembling. 

"Even with our fists held high, it never would have worked out right," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "We were never meant for do or die, darling."

A sob escaped your lips, and you shook your head. "I didn't want us to burn out, Satoru" you said, your voice breaking. "I didn't come here to hurt you now. I don't want to hurt you. But now I.... I can't stop."

Satoru gently cupped your face, his thumbs wiping away your tears. "I want you to know that it doesn't matter where we take this road. Someone's gotta go."

His words cut through you like a knife, the finality of it all hitting you hard. "It doesn't have to be you."

He smiles shaking his head.

"And I want you to know you couldn't have loved me better," he said, his voice full of love and regret. "But I want you to move on, so I'm already gone."

“How do I do it?” You sobbed to him. “Without you?”

“You can.” He presses a kiss against your nose. “And you will.”

“You were meant to grow old with me.” You croaked to him.

"But now you’ll do it for me. For the both of us, hm? Live a long life." Satoru shakes his head, his voice gentle but firm. "Keep Gakuganji in check. You know that old geezer can’t be trusted to keep the straight line.”

“Satoru….”

“Keep the jujutsu world at peace on my behalf.”

You shake your head against his chest.

You hit your arms against his figure.

Infinity was always down when it was you.

“Live long so that you have stories to tell me."

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt. "I hate you!" you repeated, the words laced with anguish. “I really really hate you.”

He laughed sadly, a bittersweet sound that echoed in the empty space around you. "I know, darling." he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I know."

In that moment, you both understood the depth of your bond, the unspoken promises and the inevitable heartache that lay ahead. But for now, you held onto each other, finding solace in the shared pain and the love that had brought you together.

When you let him go that day, you knew.

You would have to wait until you were gray.

You looked at Shoko and you shook your head.

Your eyes were too red to even look one last time..

As far as you were concerned, he was already gone.

[andavs]

Seriously, does Eddie know what Kim unintentionally did to him?

I'm not trying to absolve him of everything that just happened because he was the one to go back to the store and talk to her in the first place. He continued to see her at least a few times, so that part is entirely on him—but he also came clean with her and ended it. It was over and done with.

But he brought her to his home to explain and she came back later to ambush him. She used the photos he showed her to dress up exactly like his dead wife—maybe it was just some careful styling, but it looked like she even dyed the white streak in her hair. He opened up about the faults in their marriage and she threw his own words back at him to push him into engaging with her. Everything he shared with her, she twisted and used against him.

Even with nothing but good intentions, Kim is a fucking actress! She is not in any way qualified to guide him through something like that! She broke him open while he repeatedly asked her to stop, unintentionally blew his life up, and then left him there in pieces. And he couldn’t even begin to process what just happened because Chris walked in.

Yeah, Eddie could’ve slammed the door in Kim’s face from the start or told her to get out, but even if he had, would she have left? She was determined to do this “for him” and didn’t take no for an answer. He could barely even look at her, but she kept pushing until she struck a nerve. 

That was such a fucked up thing that Kim did, yet Eddie defends her and blames himself completely in the aftermath. He was so messed up and wracked with guilt and worry about Chris that he couldn’t even properly explain what happened. He talks around it while blaming himself for everything, to the point where it sure as hell seems like Buck thinks they had sex while Kim pretended to be Shannon, and Eddie was fully into it.

In the episode before when he first confronted Eddie about her, Buck specifically clarified, “You haven't had sex.” And Eddie said, “Exactly, that’s not even what I want from her.”

And then when Eddie’s trying to explain, Buck says “And what wasn't happening between you two ended up happening.”

Buck thinks they had sex—or were at least making out—and Chris walked in when in reality, Eddie was pushed into a breakdown by the ghost of his dead wife about how he's broken and unfixable and alone. And I don’t know what that misunderstanding means, or if it’ll even end up being relevant! Will Eddie actually tell him what happened, or will he lock that away too?

Eddie’s made so much progress with opening up to people since his breakdown, but this time every single thing he shared got used against him and started a chain reaction that has left him completely alone with nothing. His son is gone, and his parents were there just long enough to convince him that he’s a terrible father screwing up Chris like they screwed up Eddie, which is what Eddie’s always worked hardest to avoid. The one remaining good thing in his life was the 118, and even that’s going to be terrible under Gerrard.

Either next season is going to be equal parts brutal and magnificent on the Eddie front, or it’s going to be incredibly disappointing.

[transformers-spike]

Please author, TFP Megatron x human Reader but they (if you can, AFAB) are into being bitten. Throw in some knife play in it?? Maybe?? I mean his teeth do qualify as knife play I think??? Also Megatron spoils them with aftercare because he is the evil tyrant but with a special spot for his favorite human

I'm kinda showing the aftermath of Megatron's biting featuring poor Knock Out. I hope you got your tetanus shot

“Hold still,” Knock Out tells you while disinfecting a particularly bad gash. He’s been at it for a while now, switching his attention to and from the monitor displaying a wide variety of human skin lesions and wikihow articles on how to treat them properly. You’ve been sitting on the medical table for a while now, feet dangling off the ledge like a child ignoring the safety protocols of the Grand Canyon. If his helm wasn’t on the line, you’re sure he would have gladly slapped you right off the edge himself. Instead, he watches over you with the determination of someone unwilling but forced to keep a cockroach alive no matter how often it crawls under their shoe. You’ve been to the medical bay enough times to cause Knock Out at least one mental breakdown while the actual Breakdown watched, bewildered, as the Chief Medical Officer tried to make sense of human anatomy despite the tangible disgust he harbors for your organic biology. Eh, you’re probably stretching it – he wouldn’t have silently threatened to squeeze your organs out of your body if he was that disgusted. Although, you must admit, you love when he fusses over you like a mother hen keeping its suicidal chick from repeatedly drowning itself. Megatron’s handiwork has been especially brutal, not that you mind. Even in his mass-displaced form his strength is unparalleled, it makes you wonder just how much he holds back, how easily he could tear out your jugular with his dentae alone. He is a massive predator, after all, by human and Cybertronian standards. The decision he made to file down his dentae into pointed tips must have skyrocketed his success rate in the pits through sheer intimidation factor. Maybe Cybertronians aren’t exactly known for having evolved a “bite when you’re cornered” reflex like Earth fauna, but you’re pretty damn sure Megatron can bite a chunk out of someone’s chassis if he’s angry enough. You try not to imagine Starscream with enough holes to qualify as a new type of vegan swiss cheese. Knock Out hasn’t said it to your face, but he’s alluded to sedating you in the medical bay if only to put a stop to your inane talent for sticking limbs you shouldn’t into Megatron’s intake. Alas, you do not give a fuck, and if he has the wrecking balls for it, he’ll have to answer to his leader for his transgressions (and promptly get his interface panel smashed in before he can so much as activate his vocalizer). Checkmate, glitch. 

From the furrow of his optical ridge you can tell he’s actively purging any incentive to glance down at your tits and comment on the sheer damage caused to them. This, you’ve grown acquainted with. Call them bazonkers all you want, but these bad girls can only take so much abuse before you start crying. You’ve cursed breast tissue enough times to solidify your distaste for their uselessness outside of child rearing (disregarding sex). It takes a slight graze of Megatron’s dentae against them and you’re already trying to escape your mortal coil from the pain alone. Yes, said pain has made you orgasm. No, you refuse to take a good hard look at yourself and reevaluate what in God’s name is wrong with you.

Megatron by all means isn’t the soothing type. But after having experienced his specific brand of “gentle” brutality he’s grown to watch over your rapidly rising and falling form as you gingerly touch the gashes on your skin. Cybertronians, you’ve learned, can emit a purr similar to an engine (courtesy of Knock Out). Megatron however, having no Earth-based alt-mode, can only produce the dull rumble of Cybertronian aircraft – and that you learned when he scooped you up like a newborn deer and placed you on his chassis for safe-keeping. His servo, claws sharpened to perfection (for the pits, logically), switching between stroking your empty little head trying to make sense of your surroundings and caging your bleeding body under its grip.

Knock Out wacks you over the head with the back of his digit.

“Ow what the fuck?” You snarl.

“Stop daydreaming and show me the inside of your thighs,” he says with the complete lack of amusement of a convenience store clerk asking a customer to stop pushing a pull-door.

“Oh. My bad,” you hiss none-too-apologetically, nonchalantly spreading your legs and letting him figure out the horrorshow any sane human would have fainted experiencing. Except you. Because you have the spite of a cockroach. A flying cockroach aiming for Knock Out’s optic at the speed of light.

In the silence that follows, you can hear his processor drafting his resignation letter.

[transhawks]

Why does everyone treat Hawks having always been an assassin as canon? I know he was brought in as a replacement for Nagant but as far as I’m aware there’s no actual proof he killed anyone before twice

You're right! We've never been explicitly told he has a kill-count of anything but 1 (rip Jin). However (honestly you knew this would make me actually write, didn't you?)....

1. The HSPC has changed (somewhat)

It's spelled out to us that Madame Prez wasn't like her predecessor. Her methods weren't as brutal, she was way into a war of information. In some ways, crueler. Kaina wasn't executed - instead she had her hair shorn and was defamed, humiliated.

Nagant assumes Keigo has been used like her. Horikoshi says Madame Prez groomed Keigo from a much earlier age than the middle school-aged Kaina so he had way less ability to leave or question (additionally, he was so sheltered from society and marginalized that he simply would have been incapable until he was an adult).

This is what the story says outright. So, yes, you're right - everything else is speculation. But then the question is why people believe this is canon outside of the typical abysmal literacy found in this fandom?

2. But Hawks being Hawks doesn't Make It Easier

Truth be told, I'm on your side. I used to very much doubt he had much of a body/kill count. I still think it might be single digits if we consider actually murdering someone with his own hands/quirk, though I suspect he might be responsible for deaths in other ways. I would have completely accepted Jin being his first (and only at this point) murder.

So why did I change my mind about this? Simply; Keigo's a fucking freak. I say this with love.

Every so often Keigo says or does something in this manga that both confirms he's kind of insane and in a very different moral space than everyone else, and just off-handedly mentioning he went and, after being subjected to third degree burns and essentially losing limbs, immediately went to eliminate every last sample even after the battle (where he was carried off by Tokoyami mind you) as in....destroying Jin's body or ensuring no one can use it. He's offended when it's clear Dabi got the better of him with this.

Mind you, he's the world champion at repressing his feelings, duh, but the fascinating way he speaks about this (a minute after screaming they NEED TO KILL JIN AGAIN) speaks volumes. Keigo's completely undaunted about handling death and its aftermath. If he's never killed before, he's been certainly trained to in a way that he handles it professionally.

There's one more thing that makes me think Keigo did kill before Jin. We can argue over how much Keigo hesitated killing Jin, but I think it's a point in that he did in how much he ABSOLUTELY does not with All For One.

Like he does not hesitate. Immediately tries to put a feather-knife through his brain. Logically, I mean, I think anyone would try to one-shot AFO because the more time the man that has (until he rewound himself) the more time he has to fuck you up, but still. He tries to stab through his man's head as soon as he gets out of the portal.

Here's Keigo just admitting it, albeit saying he expected it wouldn't work, but really, he's more apologizing he can't immediately kill this man.

No hesitance.

My final piece of evidence is that Keigo is currently walking around Japan in a suit with a katana begging mfers to "try it bitch". Like being quirkless, not a hero, none of that is stopping him if he needs to defend himself. And it's not like he can pin someone away with his feathers. Nor does he have dozens of daggers at his disposal anymore, just one blade. He's the type to try and finish things quickly as the manga has shown time and time again. I really hope no one actually tries to assassinate him because there's an extreme likelihood he'll just decapitate them in the SPC boardroom.

3. Red, Red Hands

To recap, we know Keigo has been trained to kill, in a multitude of ways (and not only with his quirk), and has always seen killing as option/tool he can use. The HSPC might not be as eager to kill as Kaina's era was, but they raised Keigo with the intent to use him to be able to kill people and cover it up. While there's no proof of other murders, there's proof he's been given the training, tools, and expectation to kill. And his attitude towards killing isn't making it seem like he's not done it before. Of course, he's not agonizing over it like Kaina, which makes me think he was used sparingly to kill.

But the other thing to ask is - will Keigo continue to kill (and not like in personal defense) or lead to the deaths of others? He's already set on reforming the Public Safety Commission by allowing for the reform of Villains who cooperate, renaming the Commission to distance itself from solely heroism... We're still a few chapters away of seeing what this new president has in store for society and how he'll distinguish his methods from the people who created him, but we also have two hundred and fifty chapters of him expressing dislike of how he's used, so perhaps it's fair to say he's not continuing the cycle?

[beartitled]

how did Euclid go about experiencing the third dimension for the first time? did Scalene have to like physically show him what was different somehow, or did he figure that out on his own?

also, why does Euclid wear eyepatches over his injured eyes, but Scalene doesn't wear an eyepatch over her (one) injured eye?

also also, here's a random headcanon I wanna share: since the mutation attempts are numbered 1 through 4, and Euclid's attempts are #1 and #2, I get the feeling that he volunteered to try to mutate first so Scalene wouldn't have to risk her own eyes as much. even though both attempts failed in the end, they improved the mutation process through these failures, and so Scalene's last attempt finally succeeded.

A person who noticed the implications 😈

Ok I will go in order

Euclid and third dimension

I imagine this was extremely confusing for him

Picture the scenario where you’ve been speaking your native language your entire life

And somebody says “you been speaking with a thick accent and wrong grammar, also all things are called differently, you have to relearn now”

You will try to speak “correctly”, but slipping into old habits when you’re not thinking about it

This is pretty much how Euclid felt when his wife said that “ok imagine a square, but it has another one, and another one, and another one, but they are one, like you know… ummm… mmmermm.. you get it right?”

He still thinks, imagines stuff and dreams in 2D

But he’s kinda adapted to moving around in this weird world that has so many copies of things in it

Also one person had a headcanon that Euclid has an exceptional hearing

I 👏adore 👏this idea 👏

I don’t remember who exactly wrote this comment, there are so much cool headcanons people have actually, I need to keep a file on cool ideas with credits™️💥

Why Scalene doesn’t wear an eyepatch

Well

Her eye doesn’t look that bad

First attempts have a kinda brutal aftermath, because they had no idea of what they’re doing

+ I an eyepatch would be a bit unpractical for the successful eye

Headcanon

My guy

🫵You get it 🫵

This is exactly what I wanted to hint towards

Euclid was completely against of Scalene trying to mutate her eyes (he loves his life guys 🥺)

So his initial plans was 2 attempts, if they fail they’ll find another way

But you see, when your wife is stubborn

You don’t really see what she’s up to

And can only hear that she did not agree to the initial plan

He was terrified when she started testing the 4th eye

I’m writing this and going to eep immediately after, wish me good dream horrors guys 😎

Thank you for your ask❤️ Hope everyone enjoyed a lil essay 🧐

[secretmellowblog]

One fascinating thing about the way Hugo writes Jean Valjean's inner conflict is that we're almost never actually in his POV when he makes his final decisions. We spend chapters and chapters exploring Jean Valjean's thought processes as he agonizes over difficult moral choices, but in the final crucial moment, when he actually makes his choice, Hugo "cuts us off" from his internal monologue. We view what his final choice looks like from the outside, from the perspective of other characters. This is especially significant because Jean Valjean, from the outside, is often pretty unreadable. He is uncannily calm, tranquil, and polite. He's opaque. There's a moment where he's described as a "whirlwind within, calm without;" Jean Valjean uses excessively polite behavior as a defense mechanism, "picking up his calm the way a warrior would pick up his buckler." The most obvious example of this is the Champmathieu trial, where Jean Valjean agonizes over whether to turn himself in. We spend chapter after chapter inside of his POV, exploring his terror and inner conflict as he weighs his options and invents a thousand excuses for himself-- we explore his trauma-fueled reactions to the concept of returning to prison in painful, agonizing detail, from his horrific memories of prison to his surreal nightmares about being buried alive. The tension builds as chapters fly by and he still hasn't made his final decision, as he hopes some unforseen accident will prevent him from making it to the trial and he won't have to make the decision after all-- But in the final moment, when Jean Valjean *actually* makes the final choice...we're not in his point of view. Instead, it's told "from the point of view" of the courtroom, and Jean Valjean's strange heartbreaking serenity is described solely from the outside. At the moment where we most want to hear what Valjean is thinking, we're abruptly cut off from his inner monologue. This becomes even more tragic when the "adrenaline rush" of the courtroom fades away and we witness the aftermath of the trial. When Jean Valjean returns to Fantine, we see him from the point of view of Simplice and other characters. He's described as behaving "mechanically" as if in shock. From the outside he appears eerily uncannily "tranquil" and completely opaque. It is impossible to tell what he is feeling or thinking. Jean Valjean responds to Javert's violence toward Fantine with an icy, eerily tranquil restrained fury: threatening him with a leaden bar, saying "I advise you not to disturb me at this moment"-- but you can feel behind that restraint the weight of all the grief/anger from the previous chapters, which he's incapable of letting himself express openly. He has made this horrible nightmarish sacrifice that he's been agonizing over for thousands of words, he's facing unimaginable violence and grief--- and in the moments where we most want to hear how he's reacting to this, "the line goes dead." We're brutally cut off from his mental state and left to imagine what he might be feeling.

After a few moments of this meditation (Jean Valjean) bent towards Fantine, and spoke to her in a low voice. What did he say to her? What could this man, who was reproved, say to that woman, who was dead? What words were those? No one on earth heard them.

[sundew199]

Angel

Tags: fluff?, no specific p/ns

He loves you. Cannot go a day without thinking of new ways to show his undying devotion to you. To him you were the balm to his weary soul, the calm after the storm and all things good that he himself wished to possess. At times he felt so unworthy of a love like yours, swearing it was meant for someone else, someone good and without a tainted soul that held the weight of his sins. Sins that no matter how many times he washed or prayed away, would cling to him like goo.

But you didn’t see his sins. Didn’t see the brutalities of a brainwashed twelve year old who sought approval from the people that drove him to his choices, you saw him. Just him. You saw the sunset in his golden irises when he’d look at you, the love embedded beneath shining through at a mere glance. He was just Reiner in your eyes and that was it. No honorary Marleyan, no armored titan, no shield of Marley, just Reiner.

There were times he hated that you loved him, because he was so undeserving of it. Your love could be poured into a better man, a man who didn’t waver at his own self deprecation, stood proud for who he was and what he’d achieved in his life. But you chose him didn’t you. And for whatever reason that was, Reiner may never know. He wanted to know deep down, what you saw in him, how you managed to remain by his side after everything he told you, because any sane person would leave. Though that wouldn’t be fair to assume about you, considering you were still here, by his side from the aftermath of it all. Maybe this were another cruel joke, working to get his hopes up only for it to be ripped away, it’d be a fair punishment for him.

You didn’t like the way he spoke about himself, hated how he couldn’t see the good in his heart, and how above all, it outweighed his past. Reiner understood that sentiment and toyed with whether he should work on getting better at how he saw himself or to let it fester. He would’ve if you didn’t cradle the side of his face so softly he felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes, the determination and belief you had in him to heal and recover. You wanted that for him, that’s all you ever wanted for him. Reiner deserved a second chance and to throw it away now were unfair to those who gave up theirs.

He’d never come close to deserving you, but he’d cherish you like one of the world greatest wonders. That’s all he could do, cherish and devote all the love that settle deep inside him tucked away for the sake of a mission years ago, until maybe one day he did deserve you. Because he wanted to feel worthy of your love, wanted to not second guess why he lived and the others didn’t, needed to hold and kiss you and never wonder if it would be for the last time. Reiner couldn’t have gotten as far as he did if it weren’t for you, so he’d be the stupidest man alive to throw it all away due to unhealed trauma. He’d work on that, first on his list that way his mind could roam with just thoughts of you, what all the future had in store later on down the line.

You were the angel with an out stretch hand pulling him from the water, wrapping your heavenly arms of comfort around his weary broken soul, fitting the prices back together one by one. If he were to ever understand why it was him and not anyone else, Reiner may refuse. He didn’t need all the answers, something he was learning as he lived on, even if temptation dangled dangerously on front of him. You were all he needed, the answer to all his questions.

Reiner would work to become a man deserving of your love and affection, a small repentance of his sins and appreciation for all you’d done when you didn’t have to. Because where would he be now if it weren’t for you? No where near the happiness he felt sitting with his arm around you, in a home he built for you, watching the sunset weave throughout the sky in departure for the night.

A/N note: Does this count as fluff? I feel like it does

[icycoldninja]

Sorry for all the requesting 🥺😭 This is gonna get dark!

May I please request headcanons for the Sparda boys + V reacting to their female S/O being kidnapped and tortured over a long period of time and they have to deal with the physical and mental aftermath when she’s finally rescued?

Ay, it's no problem. Here ya go, and enjoy!

Sparda boys + V X Fem!Reader kidnapped and tortured headcannons

Warning: As the title implies, there is some dark content coming up with themes of torture involved. If you are uncomfortable with these themes, DNI!

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¤ Dante ¤

-Oh boy. First it was his brother, and now his girlfriend? Whoever dared do this to you is in for a world of pain.

-He doesn't wait around long enough for the kidnapper to send him footage of what was being done to you; the moment he realizes you're in danger, he's hopped on his motorcycle and is looking towards your location which he discovered with his demon instincts.

-He finds you tied to a chair with barbed wire, bloodied, broken, and sobbing. While looking upon your battered and bruised figure, honestly feels like crying himself.

-Oh, his baby, his poor, poor baby. He loved you so much and never, ever, in his wildest dreams, would have wanted to see you hurt like this. He nearly Triggered right there and then, but he held himself back for your sake. He didn't want to terrify you any further than you were now.

-He got you out of that horrible place as fast as he could, his limbs shaking nearly as violently as you were when he carried you out of the kidnapper's hiding place.

-"Hey there, badass. You can relax now, it's all gonna be OK now that I'm here."

-The moment you guys returned to Devil May Cry, he fed you as many green orbs and Ibuprofen tablets as he could without overdosing you. He didn't want you to feel the pain anymore; he wanted you to be smiling and happy again.

-Once the medicine kicked in and you were comfortable enough to sleep, he held you. He refused to let go of you. He clutched you as tightly as he could, tears silently running down his face. How could he allow this to happen?! How could he let you get hurt like this? What kind of devil-hunter extraordinaire was he if he couldn't even protect the only woman in the world he ever truly cared about?

-He was going to spoil you with attention and affection even before you woke up. He wanted you to heal from this, and wanted to be the one to help you heal.

-You are so precious to him, and now he's going to show you just how much in any way he possibly can.

-Expect long, loving cuddles, big hugs every time you walk into a room, and words of affirmation whenever you look down.

-He'll also tenderly treat your wounds and wrap them himself, telling you how strong and brave you are to have survived all that pain every time he does so.

-This whole incident was a massive fright to him; now he's going to hold onto you so tightly, there's no way he could ever lose you again.

■ Vergil ■

-He is so, so, scared, but he refuses to show it. Vergil remembers what it was like to be brutally tortured at the hands of Mundus, so he is enraged and horrified when he finds out the same has been done to you.

-He can't stop himself--and won't. Whoever did this to you doesn't deserve that mercy. He Triggers, and sails away to find you, doing so in a sheer matter of minutes thanks to his demonic instincts.

-He bursts into your kidnappers' hideouts, roaring. He hears your anguished screams and flips into overdrive a second time, literally tearing through the walls as he frantically searched for you.

-The noise scared you, making you think it was the kidnappers returned to torment you further. However, when you saw the hulking, icy-blue devil crash through the wall, your fears were put to rest.

-The moment he saw your battered, torn form bound to a chair with barbed wires jutting into your flesh, he nearly blew up the building and all that was around it.

-There was so much anger coursing through his veins, you could feel it emanating from him, even as he gingerly undid your bonds and scooped you into his massive, scaly arms.

-"Do not cry anymore, Precious. The nightmare is over now. I am here. You are safe."

-He portaled you out of there with the Yamato and immediately took you to the hospital to get your wounds treated.

-He also refused to leave your side for any reason, insisting on staying and watching the doctors work, even if what they were doing was unsettling; he'd seen and been through much worse.

-The entire time, Vergil sat by your bedside, either staring at you intently, or holding your hand. He didn't want to let you go, and most certainly didn't want you to leave his sight.

-The moment you awoke, the first thing Vergil told you was that he loved you. He sounded out of character, considering this was something he rarely ever said aloud, but he was so afraid of losing you, and the PTSD of Mundus's torture was returning to him--he wanted you to have what he never did when he was recovering: comfort.

-He stayed by your side until you were discharged from the hospital, and after that, drove you home, only to wrap you in his arms and cuddle you till you both fell asleep.

-You both would undoubtedly be having nightmares about this for weeks, but for now, at least you were safe in Vergil's arms.

□ Nero □

-He found out what had happened to you in the worst way possible. He received a video from the kidnapper.

-It depicted the kidnapper, who wore a mask to obscure his face, using a crowbar to break your arms and legs while you were suspended by your arms from the ceiling.

-Nero lost it; his pseudo devil trigger Triggered and he was out the door in an instant.

-He doesn't possess the demonic tracking abilities of his father and uncle, unfortunately, but he manages to find you after a good half hour of searching.

-What he walks in on is disgusting. You're begging for mercy, sobbing and screaming under the pain your various broken limbs were causing you, all while your kidnapper laughed.

-Nero wanted to tie this motherfucker up and give him a taste of his own awful medicine, but he had bigger priorities: you.

-He freed you, shushing you when you screamed out in pain, promising he's gonna get you all patched up faster than you can think and that everything is gonna be ok.

-"You can rest now, baby, I gotcha."

-Once he takes you back to Devil May Cry, the entire Sparda clan and their friends are by your side in seconds, with Nero at the forefront. They heal your wounds in seconds and Dante makes corny jokes to lighten the mood.

-Then, they leave you and Nero alone to converse in private. It's a good thing they did, too, because almost as soon as the room was empty, Nero burst into tears, trapping you in a hug and sobbing into your shoulder.

-You ended up crying along with him; the two of you just bawling into each other's shoulders.

-Nero promised to never allow something like this to happen ever again, and spent the remainder of the night lying next to you with his arms and legs wrapped your you like a giant koala on a beat-up tree.

-You were very thankful for this because honestly, you didn't think you could survive this stressful, traumatizing night without having Nero snoring by your side.

● V ●

-V was texted a sickening video by an unknown number, and the moment he opened and watched, he collapsed.

-The kidnapper, standing offscreen, was repeatedly striking younin the face, chest, hips, and other areas with a spiked bat before kicking you in the stomach and shutting the camera--or whatever he used to film the video--off after releasing some unhinged laughter.

-V was terrified. He had no idea how to find you from this meager information, let alone save you.

-Still, he was determined to try, and so, gathering up his cane, he limped along, Shadow at his side and Griffon doing reconnaissance a few feet away.

-After some time, they found you, lying on the floor in an unbelievably deep pool of your own blood, yet still fully awake.

-V would have knelt there and cried, but he forced himself to swallow the tears and lift you to safety.

-Oh, Wanderer...what have they done to you?"

-He brought you to Devil May Cry and patched you up to the best of his abilities, using as many green orbs as he could get his hands on.

-Though your physical words may have been healed, your mental wounds were anything but.

-You were in so much shock, you were shaking from head to toe. V saw this and wished there was more he could do to help, but for now, he would hold your hands, kiss your cheeks, and rest his head in your lap while you told him anything and everything you needed to get off your chest.

-He read to you, too, his soothing voice doing wonders to ease your anxiety and calm you to a point where you could sleep.

-As V watched you slumber, he made a silent pact to always protect you, however he could, for as long as he could. He never wanted to see you go through something like this ever again.