#you are more than a collection of physical features.

[auressea]

I don't understand this.

Can someone explain? How does breaking our physical appearance into tiny, desecrate parts, in order to measure & assign an 'aesthetic value' =

BODY POSITIVITY?

isn't this is like, Cosmo or Glamour levels of 'Beauty Quizz'? why are we breaking down our FACE and judging it? Where does the idea of 'facial features' even come from ??!!

You have a FACE. it does stuff like give you sensory feedback, and allows you to communicate. It's an incredible complex piece of bio-engineering! Yay! << that's worth celebrating.

"Don't read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly."

~ Baz Luhrmann

*no "see results" button because I'm not letting y'all get out of body positivity. if y'all want results you can find part of yourself to appreciate (even if it's small) and choose that

Edit: TERFS FUCK OFF

(credit to @can-of-pringles for the banner)

[ms-demeanor]

I'm not the most security savvy but two-factor authentication makes me deeply suspicious. Is it actually more secure or is it just annoying? Especially the ones that send a code to your phone that pops up in your notifications.

It is genuinely, massively, TREMENDOUSLY more secure to use 2FA/MFA than to not use it.

One of our clients is currently under attack by a group that appears to be using credential stuffing; they are making educated guesses about the accounts they're trying to lot into based on common factors showing up in the credentials in years of pastes and breaches and leaks. Like, let's say it's a professional arborist's guild and their domain is arborist.tree and they've had three hundred members who have had their credentials compromised in the last ten years and the people looking at all the passwords associated with arborist.tree noticed that the words "arboreal" and "conifer" and "leaf" and "branch" show up over and over and over again in the passwords for the members of the professional arborist's guild.

So they can make an educated guess for how to log in to accounts belonging to the tree-loving tree lover's club, combine that with the list of legitimate emails, and go to town.

And they are in fact going to town. We're getting between 1000 and 4000 login attempts per hour. It's been happening for a couple weeks.

And every single one of those attempts is failing - in spite of some pretty poor password practices that believe me, I have been doing some talking about - as a result of having MFA enforced for the entire group. They all use an app that is synced to their individual accounts with a mobile device, except that sometimes you have trouble getting a code when you're up in a tree so some of them have physical MFA tokens.

People try to sign into my tumblr sometimes. To those people I say: lol, good luck, I couldn't guess my own password with a gun to my head. But if I *did* have some password that was, like "tiny-bastard-is#1" they would also need access to my email address because I've got MFA set up on tumblr. And to THAT I say: lol, good luck, it's complex passwords and MFA all the way down.

Of the types of MFA that most people will run across, the most secure to least secure hierarchy goes physical token>app based one-time-passwords>tie between email and SMS. Email and SMS are less preferred because email is relatively easy to capture and open in transit and cellphone SIMs can be cloned to capture your text messages. But if you are using email or SMS for your authentication you are still miles and miles and miles ahead of people who are not using any kind of authentication.

MFA is, in fact, so effective that I only advise people to turn it on if they are 100% sure that they will be able to access the account if they lose access to the device that had the authenticator on it. You usually can do this by saving a collection of recovery codes someplace safe (I recommend doing this in the secure notes section of your password manager on the entry for the site in question - if this is not a feature that your password manager has, I recommend that you get a better password manager, and the password manager I recommend is bitwarden).

A couple weeks ago I needed to get into a work account that I had created in 2019. In 2022, my boss had completely taken me off of managing that service and had his own account, so I deleted it from my authenticator. Then in 2024 my boss sold the business but didn't provide MFA for a ton of the accounts we've got. I was able to get back into my account because five years earlier I had taken a photo of the ten security codes from the company and saved them in a folder on my desktop called "work recovery codes." If you are going to use MFA, it is VITALLY IMPORTANT that you save recovery codes for the accounts you're authenticating someplace that you'll be able to find them, because MFA is so secure that the biggest problem with it is locking people out of their accounts.

In any kind of business context, I think MFA should be mandatory. No question.

For personal accounts, I think you should be pointed and cautious where you apply it, and always leave yourself another way in. There are SO MANY stories about people having their phones wiped or stolen or destroyed and losing MFA with the device because they didn't have a backup of the app or hadn't properly transferred it to a new device.

But it's also important to note that MFA is not a "fix all security forever" thing - I've talked about session hijacking here and the way you most often see MFA defeated is by tricking someone into logging in to a portal that gives them access to your cookies. This is usually done by phishing and sending someone a link to a fake portal.

That is YET ANOTHER reason that you should be using a good password manager that allows you to set the base domain for the password you're using so that you can be sure you're not logging in to a faked portal. If your password manager doesn't have that feature (setting the domain where you can log in to the base domain) then I recommend that you get a better password manager (get bitwarden.)

In 2020 my terrible boss wanted me to write him a book about tech that he could have run off at a vanity press and could give to prospect customers as a business card. That was a terrible idea, but I worked on the book anyway and started writing it as a book about security for nontechnical people. I started out with a very simple statement:

If every one of our customers did what we recommend in the first four chapters of this book (make good backups, use a password manager and complex unique passwords, enable MFA, and learn how to avoid phishing), we would go out of business, because supporting problems that come from those four things is about 90-95% of our work.

So yes, absolutely, please use MFA. BUT! Save your recovery codes.

[heyimkana]

WC: 1.3K

thinking about guildmaster!Jinwoo who's been stuck in his office room all day, doing one paperwork after another. He's pissed off, silently complaining that he's not built for this, wanting nothing more than to get out of there and do something more... physical. Of course, raiding a dungeon is the first thing that comes to mind, but when you, his secretary, come knocking on his door, well... A different idea pops up.

"Good evening, Mr. Sung. I'm sorry to bother you when you already have so much on your plate, but I need you to sign these papers for me."

He wearily sighs, "Set them down here."

You walk over to his desk, your heart's racing. He looks so handsome today, exceptionally so, with the collar of his shirt unbuttoned, his strands a little messy from how he ran his hand through them earlier. Frustration looks perfect on him. “I need you to sign over here, Mr. Sung.” You lean forward, guiding him.

You get into his space, the smell of your perfume driving him insane. He tries to shake the feelings of attraction away, focusing on the task at hand, but after he signs his name with one swift motion, his gaze shifts to your face, then your figure. You’re wearing a pencil skirt and a thin blouse. You look pretty damn good today, he has to admit.

He casts his gaze away. "Would that be all?"

"Another one over here, Sir."

His body tenses up as you lean in closer, his eyes glued to your body and the way your fingers run across the paper, wondering how pretty they'd look wrapped around his cock. The urge to grab you and bend you over his desk is getting almost too powerful.

He can feel the tension in the air, something that had built up over the past couple of weeks. Every time you’d come in to drop off some files, the two of you would linger in the room together, the air between you growing more and more heated. You’re making it damn near impossible for him to hold back now. Just when he thinks he might have a handle on his feelings, you do something like this, unaware of the effects you have on him.

And now that he's feeling all pent-up...

"Mr. Sung? Is there something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. Just lost in thought."

He seems to be distraught. You wonder if you can ease his mind. “Mr. Sung, is it... all right if I am honest with you for a second?”

He raises his brow, his curiosity piqued. "Of course. What is it?"

“It’s… I just want to say that your performance during the meeting yesterday was awe-inspiring. I could tell Chairman Go was absolutely taken away by you. I’m… I admire you, Mr. Sung.”

He watches as you speak, his eyes taking in your features. His resolve begins to slip with more words you utter. He tries to keep his voice calm, but he can’t stop the slight huskiness that falls into it. "Thank you," he smiles, a little bit softer than you expected.

You can't stop the heat that crawls up to your face. Hastily, you collect the papers from him. "I will be, umm... right outside if you need me." But before you can walk through the door, his deep voice rings in the air, calling out your name.

"Come here for a moment."

"Sir?"

"I need to talk to you about something. Privately.”

You swallow. Something about the way he says it fills your body with anticipation. You take a few steps closer, standing in front of his desk.

"Closer."

The authority in his tone sends shivers down your spine. Drawing a breath, you take a couple of strides further, now standing before him as he leans back on his swivel chair, his gaze intense with a little smile playing on his lips.

"W-what is it that you need from me, Mr. Sung?"

That same sweet smile grows into a smirk. "Sit on my desk."

"P-pardon?"

"Come over here and sit on my desk. Now."

The command in his voice leaves no room for you to argue. You do as he says, sitting stiffly on the edge of his table, facing him with your legs squeezed together. Your skirt rises to the middle of your thighs, and you cover the exposed skin with shaky hands. "L-Like this, Sir?"

He leans further back in his chair, his legs spread apart, his breathing heavy as he enjoys how flustered you look. His eyes traverse down your body, his lip almost bitten as the thought of you spreading your legs for him enters his mind. "Yes, just like that. You’re doing very well.”

Jinwoo brings his fingers to his lips, masking the smirk that threatens to turn a little bit sadistic. "You seem nervous. I can practically hear your heart racing from here."

You wet your lips nervously. "I don’t think this is... appropriate, Sir."

He chuckles, "Perhaps not, and yet, here you are." As you turn even more abashed, he rises from his chair, eliminating the distance between you. He places one hand on your knee, and another on the table, his gaze heavy and misted with desire. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Always doing the right thing, always doing everything I say."

You throw your stare down to your lap. "I'm just... doing my job."

"Mm. But you know how I feel about you, don't you? You've seen the way I look at you, but you never go past the line, never cross that boundary, no matter how much I wish you to. You’re such a good" —he leans close to your ear, his voice reducing to a whisper— "obedient little secretary. And it makes me want to ruin you."

Your eyes shut close as goosebumps break on your skin.

"You got me all curious, Angel." The tip of his nose brushes against your cheek. "Beneath that sweet, obedient exterior of yours, what is it that you want? Is there something more, something hidden deep down inside you, that only I can bring out?”

"M-Mr. Sung—"

He grabs you by your chin, his grip possessive as he tilts your face up to meet his gaze. "It's Jinwoo. Call me Jinwoo."

His dominance over you excites you, and his scent is so intoxicatingly sweet, leaving your body aching for more. Being in such close proximity to him, you can't help but let your eyes cascade to his lips. He catches it, even if it is only briefly, and his gaze darkens.

"Should we cross the line, Miss Secretary?" he whispers, his thumb gliding across your lips.

Your intense yearning for him takes over the moment you see the chance, and you press your lips against his, just tentatively, just to let him know the answer you're too ashamed to speak out loud. You pull away, meeting his eyes with a sheepish gaze. He seems taken aback for a moment, but the second it sinks in, the thread snaps.

"You're so goddamn adorable," he groans against your mouth, kissing you hungrily, his hands gripping your thighs possessively.

Both thrill and panic rise within you when he pries open your legs, settling himself in between as if you were made to take him. "J-Jin—"

He silences you with another kiss. He's a greedy man, and he wants more, everything you can offer him. His nails dig into your thighs, drawing you even closer to him until you can feel the contour of his hardening cock beneath his trousers. His tongue slides against your bottom lip, demanding entry into your mouth, deepening the kiss as soon you permit him.

Jinwoo pushes you down on his desk, caging you underneath him. His body is pressed flushed against yours, his lips scorching against your neck. As your moans fill the air, he reaches under your skirt, hiking it up to your waist, and suddenly, his hands are everywhere, roaming over your body desperately, his fingers sliding up your thigh, tracing the edge of your lingerie.

"W-wait—" you gasp out as your body slides against the documents on the desk. He was in the middle of doing something important before you came in, wasn't he? "The paperwork—"

His lean fingers circle your throat as he says—

Continue to Part 2

[mortalityplays]

You need more free art.

I quit my job yesterday. Well, actually I quit my job eight weeks ago, but they finally released me yesterday for good behaviour. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do - but I do it for the wrong reasons. Working for major charities, you learn very fast that 'I want to make the world a better place' is a phrase you use to ask people for money, not to give them things. I was an ass-backwards fit for that world.

You need more free art. I need more free art. Everyone has felt the shift in our media landscape over the last ten years, away from access and towards nickel-and-diming the human experience. That lack of access is making life and culture worse for all of us, across the board. Paywalled news sites leave us less informed, attacks on the Internet Archive leave us less capable of research. Algorithmic social feeds and streaming walled gardens trap us inside smaller and smaller demographic bubbles, where we are increasingly only likely to encounter ideas that have been curated for us by marketing departments. Hasty efforts to resist AI commodification have only led to more artists locking their work away and calling for even more onerous systems of copyright law. This is not good for us.

We all need more free art.

So what am I going to do about it?

This is a question I have been asking myself for years. It's easy to sit here feeilng frustrated and thinking 'boy I hope SOMEONE does SOMETHING'. It's harder to take action in a world where I still have rent to pay. But hard doesn't mean impossible. Sometimes hard just means time-consuming, frustrating and slow. And sometimes it's worth doing something time-consuming, frustrating and slow because...I want to make the world a better place.

I'm going to do this:

1. From April 1st, I am relaunching as a freelance writer and editor.

This is the one that will (hopefully) help to pay the bills. I am a very good and experienced editor. I've worked on hollywood movies, I'm a member of the Chartered Institute of Editors and Proofreaders, I have clients who have been coming to me exclusively for more than 10 years.

Alongside bigger contract jobs, I am going to refocus on offering my services to small-press creators at a reduced rate. That means you, graphic novelists. That means you, itch and amazon writers. I want to help you develop your work, the same way I help large organisations. You can learn more about what an editor even does and what kind of pricing you can expect here.

2. I'm also going to start giving shit away. Like, constantly.

Next week I'm going to launch a new free shop. If you're unfamiliar, a free shop, giveaway shop, swap shop, etc. is an anarchist tradition of setting up a storefront where anyone can take what they like for no cost. Offline, this often means second-hand clothes, tools, furniture, food etc. Online, I am going to be giving away digital art. Copyright-free, no strings attached. It will (eventually) feature everything from print-res posters to zines, poems, tattoo flash, t-shirt designs and anything else we come up with.

Yes, I said 'we' - while this is a curated collection, it will feature work from a variety of credited and anonymous artists and activists, all of whom have agreed to give their work away to the public domain. Some of it will be practical, some of it will be political, but a lot of it will be decorative or personal. This is, in part, a response to recent difficulty I had finding somewhere that would print a one-off joke poster for a friend that featured the word 'faggot'. Enough. No middlemen - no explaining ourselves. Just print our shit and enjoy it.

I'm very, very excited about this project. I'll have more to say about it closer to the launch, but you can expect it to go live on March 27th.

2.2 I forgot to mention the ACTUAL LAUNCH GIVEAWAY

To celebrate my launch, I am going to be giving away a ton of physical prints. When I went looking for my old stock to see if it was worth setting a new (paid) storefront up, I realised I had way more old work in storage than I thought. This will be announced in its own right on Monday, but this is why I've been hinting you should go follow my Patreon.

On April 1st, I will pick 8 random patrons (from across all tiers including non-paying followers!) and mail them a bundle of assorted prints and postcards. The prize pool includes A3 and A4 posters, packs of A6 postcards, and printed minicomics that I've previously sold for up to £12 each.

You don't have to be a paying subscriber to enter - this is strictly no-purchase necessary. It is purely and entirely a celebration of the concept of GIVING ART AWAY FOR FREE.

3. PORN, YOU PERVERTS

Because I still have to pay to stay alive, I am going to be subsidising all this free art with the introduction of Fuck You Fridays. Starting from March 29th, I will drop a new 18+ short story on the last Friday of every month, over on itch.io (yes I know my page is desolate right now, don't worry I'll get there).

The first edition, Go Fuck Yourself, is about, well - telling your boss where to stick it. Julia has had it with her millionaire man-child manager, and is just about ready to let him know what she really thinks. It's a short and steamy 5k words, with a gorgeous cover illustration by @taylor-titmouse, and you can pick it up for $3 starting from March 29th.

4. ANOTHER BIG SURPRISE

I'm keeping this one under wraps for now, but April 1st will also play host to one more (FREE) launch. If you've been following me for a long time, you might remember the other significance of this date (no not April Fool's day, though that is certainly thematically relevant to this entire effort). That's all I'll say right now. Watch this space.

tl;dr: I'm sick of paywalls and career ladders. I'm literally putting my money where my mouth is. More free art for everyone and I'm not kidding around!!!

[sucodegoiaba88]

I saw ur recent post n dw I got u w the requests💪🏽

Could we get a Cho Hyun-Ju x f!reader where we know each other before the games n are already friends? We wake up w the rest of the players n get close to Dae-ho who quickly becomes one of our best friends n Hyun-Ju noticed n becomes jealous of how quick we got along w him which causes tension w her that the rest of the group can feel except us cuz were so oblivious to the point that we have to be pushed to Hyun-Ju n ask her whats wrong which leads to her spilling n some suggestive stuff?

★ : jealous girl＂

featuring: hyun-ju cho x reader, mentions of dae-ho x reader.

summary: you and your best friend hyun-ju were both at the mercy of this horrible game in order to pay your debts. However, in the middle of the game, you found comfort in the presence of another person, which sparked some unwanted feelings inside hyun-ju's heart.

warnings: none.

A/N: I sneaked a mouthwashing reference in the middle of the text, can you find it?

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

➤ Staying at this hellish place was not for the frail or for the weak, both physically and mentally. You had already finished 3 games, and you simply couldn't wait to go back to your precious home, as you finally realized how much you missed it.

But things weren't completely lost, at least you hoped so. You still had your precious friend with you, and that eased your spirits. She was mature, collected, and always knew what to do. It was like she had a natural leadership. It gave you a comforting sensation knowing that you had her.

Well, you had some other idiot too.

Dae-ho was like an useless ray of sunshine. His positive humor and personality were a contrast with the harsh reality of this dark place. You quickly found a good relationship with him. Before you even realized, you were spending time with him, sharing food and starting conversations. His presence, albeit childish, calmed you down a lot more than you would expect.

And that didn't go unnoticed by hyun-ju.

She had formed a nice, small group with her former partners. An old lady named Jang geum-ja, with her son, Yonsik, and a small girl named young-mi kim (who you managed to save last second in mingle by pulling her to your room). You grew very found of them, but that didn't mean Hyun-ju felt the same with your former partner. Quite the opposite.

She couldn't stand the overgrowing jealousy inside her. You two only were friends, her feelings didn't matter on this situation. She shouldn't get jealous of a partner she didn't have.

She just wished you spent more time with her. She just wished you spent less time with him. She just wished you paid more attention to her. She just wished-... Dang it.

Her feelings didn't go unnoticed by people, anyone could notice her bold feelings. Anyone but you. Everyone in the room could read her growing jealousy, everyone could notice her gentle stares at you and the not-so-gentle glares she sent in Dae-ho's direction. Again, everyone but you.

-

You, Jun-hee (a friendly pregnant player who you had grow really protective of.), Geum-ja and Hyun-ju were at the female bathroom. After a couple of minutes, both ladies had left the bathroom, but not before wishing goodnight and to take care to both of you. Leaving only you and Hyun-ju alone in the immense bathroom, full of multiple cubicles painted a nice shade of pink.

You could notice her not-so-friendly stare to her own reflection at the mirror. You knew she was having one of those insecure moments were her dysphoria was hitting her like a ton of bricks. But before you could protest any further, you heard her quiet voice mutter to you.

"... What is your relationship with him?"

The silence that invaded the room was so heavy it could be cut with a knife. You were half confused and half in shock. You two were friends, sure. And friends talked about crushes right? Right. But this... This didn't seem like the case. You, after a few seconds of contemplation, finally managed to get a response out.

"What do you mean, Hyu-" before you could even finish your sentence, you were harshly pinned to the wall of one of the cubicles. Her bigger frame towering above you.

"Do you know how you make me feel? Can't you feel it? Can't you notice it?" your confusion was quickly shattered as you finally could connect the pieces together.

Hyun-ju cho liked you.

And, at this moment, she was jealous.

You mentally facepalmed as you didn't have the capacity to realize it sooner. On one side, you felt like a stupid, idiot buffoon. On the other, your insides felt like melting at the realization that the love of your life felt the same way too.

You almost forgot the situation you were on as a quiet grunt pulled you out of your daydreams. Ah, right, she was still mad.

You gently put your hands on her cheeks, her expression softening almost immediately. You slowly start pulling her face down, and her body immediately obeys your subtle command.

"I love you, Hyun-ju."

It was the unasked, but obvious reassurance that she needed at the moment. Her body immediately bends to you, laying her face to your neck and snuggling her body as close as she could manage to yours.

"now, let's go back, we need to-" she again interrupted you. But this time, you could say you were more pleased than offended.

"don't think i can simply let you go after everything." she says, gently biting on your shoulder after a few seconds.

"uh...?" you silent question was quickly aswered by a harsh grope to your butt.

"i know you more than you know yourself, my dear. Don't think i don't realize how you used to stare at me before we entered here."

You were dumbfounded, unable to do any movement due to shock and a hundred of other feelings you couldn't describe properly.

But none of them were bad.

Your small paradise was quickly interrupted by a loud banging agaisnt the door, followed by a harsh voice.

"player 120, player [number], back to your dormitory, now!"

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

A/N: i suck so bad at doing suggestive themes. Sorry.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

NERD!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Author's note: thinking about some nerd!anakin fic where he had heard the reader talk with her friends that she's not passing physics and since he has the biggest crush on her since second grade he later suggest to help her..if she'll help him with something else ;)

Nerd!Anakin who inside was a little dirty minded boy that wished nothing more to have a loving girlfriend to do with her all the cool, nice things he always wanted to do (and he meant more joyful activities than sex)

Nerd!Anakin who has a collection of technical manuals and scientific holobooks that he reads in his spare time. His nightstand is filled with them, and he gets excited when a new one comes out. He’ll stay up late, curled up on the couch, devouring a manual on hyperdrive mechanics or some obscure sci-fi novel, eyes glued to the hologram.

He also loves telling you all about the technical details of what he's learning. You may not always understand everything he’s talking about, but his excitement is so adorable that you just let him ramble on.

Nerd!Anakin who has a soft spot for droids, and he might even give them 'upgrades' just because he thinks they deserve a treat. “You’ve been working hard, buddy. How about a new power cell?”. He’ll talk to them while he works, explaining what he’s doing like they’re his assistants (his fav is R2D2 obviously)

Nerd!Anakin who gets ridiculously excited about the latest gadgets or tech upgrades. When something new comes out, he’s like a kid in a candy store. Whether it's a new holo-terminal, a high-speed pod engine - he’s always the first in line to get it. He’ll show it off to you, explaining every little detail with enthusiasm. “Look at this! It has a new feature that triples efficiency!” He gets that adorable spark in his eye, completely geeking out over the smallest improvements.

Nerd!Anakin who would love when you'd do your nails; he'd ask soon later (when you two are alone) if you could play with his hair to only feel you scratch very gently against his scalp

Nerd!Anakin who was a great whimpering mess whenever you touched him (poor guy had never felt woman's touch before);

a sharp gasp left his mouth as you touched the mushroomy tip of his member, his hips jerking towards you without thought. he was already embarrassingly close, and now your teasing was only driving him closer to the edge “please-“ he let out a pleading moan, the words barely leaving his dry mouth

"please what ani? Use your words like good boys do"

He tried to focus enough to form a coherent sentence but it was getting so hard when all his mind could focus on, was the way you made him feel “I’m close-“ he gasped out, his hips rocking frantically against your tightening fist “I’m so close baby, i need it” he let out a sobbing whimper

"can you hold it in a little?" you asked gently

he groaned at the question before nodding almost desperately “for you, anything” his glasses sliding down his nose

You only hummed, all proud of your actions. How easily you could tear him apart by your single touch. Using her free hand to move his glasses so they were a bit more comfortable on him. You increased your movements, making sure to

he could feel the heat in his abdomen tighten as your hand moved faster. he was struggling to keep himself together, not much to your surprise "oh-oh god-“ he let out a loud gasp and a groan as your thumb moved over his tip again, that little touch sending electricity up his spine “oh-fuck…” one hand digging into the couch for some kind of grip “I can’t hold it—please please please” tears of desperation and overwhelming began to prick at the corner of his eyes

Nerd!Anakin who when was nervous, draw circles and designs on the back of your hand to relax himself

Nerd!Anakin who did your own minifigure from Legos

Nerd!Anakin who always had perfectly ironed shirts

Nerd!Anakin who in general was perfectionist in everything he'd do. If he had a mess in his room, he couldn't focus normally. If just one thing was moved inches apart, it drove him wild

Nerd!Anakin who made cupcakes with his mother for you

Nerd!Anakin who's a true mommy's boy

Nerd!Anakin who teared up after you gave him his first blowjob. He felt so overstimulated when his thick member was hugged around your warm throat, your tongue working on his shaft..it was way too much for the first time, he'd gasp and ask you to slow down because if you wouldn't, you'd already have his cum dripping down your throat

Nerd!Anakin who gave you flowers - sometimes real one and sometimes he'd do them from origamy

Nerd!Anakin who has a little sketchbook where he draws schematics for future projects—droid designs, custom technology accessories, etc. He’s always thinking of new ways to improve things, and his sketches are filled with intricate details and notes.

Sometimes, he’ll show you a design he’s particularly proud of, grinning ear to ear as he explains how it works. “What do you think? Pretty sleek, huh?”

Nerd!Anakin who was a true worshipper of your body. Would press such gentle kisses all over your body as if you were a ceramic doll he was scared to break

Nerd!Anakin who's glasses got foggy everytime he made love to you, his curls sticking to his forehead and his pinky, swollen lips quivering to hold back his own orgasm

Nerd!Anakin who adored math and physics (but not as much as he adored you). And of course, he loved to help you with those subjects

Nerd!Anakin ho invited you to weekly movie marathon. With all the snacks ready and a fluffy blanket

Nerd!Anakin who adored to cuddle with you. It was something so precious for him, and whenever he had a chance, he'd just wrap his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzle to your soft neck

Nerd!Anakin who liked to play with your hair like brushing them out of your face, twirling the strand around his finger and watch intensively, as if it was the most important/gorgeous/captivating sight he had seen, how it hugged his finger so perfectly

Nerd!Anakin who had his 'sexual education' with you;

Anakin hesitantly reached out, his hand trembling as he lifted it towards your chest. He hesitates for a moment once more, not sure if he's ready to do that. He just felt so sinful watching you naked..but oh so good.. so, before the thoughts would envelope his entire mind, he gently cupped one of your round, full breasts. He instantly marveled at, not only the softeneness but the weight, the way it filled his palm, how it was so beautiful, seeing your raspberry ripple hidden thanks to his large hand made him feel so fuzzy all inside

As he squeezed the soft globe tentatively, feeling its weight sprawl all over his senses, he couldn't help but let out a low moan, his body responding to the newfound pleasure. Guilty feelings fade away, leaving him all needy for more of you. His fingertips graze over your nipple to harden it, eliciting a soft gasp from both of you. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with wonder. "I-how i-" he stuttered shyly "-what should I do now?"

"whatever you want..you can kiss it, play with it, anything you want Annie"

Anakin's eyes widen at your words. To have the whole access to your body felt more pleasurable than anything in his life. He leaned in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to the underside of your breast. You gazed down at how his glasses pressed against your skin, making your breath hitched. He then brought his hand up to gently squeeze and caress the soft mound at your left breast, almost nuzzling to the right one. He looked back up at you, seeking approval, as if not sure if he could go any further

"go on, they're all yours" you encouraged

Anakin smiles shyly at your encouragement, feeling emboldened. He starts to kiss and lick at your breasts, alternating between the two. He gently nibbles on your nipples, sucking on them and releasing them with soft popping sounds. "Ahh... they're so soft... and t-tasty..." he mumbled the last part more quietly, as if embarrassed that he actually thought about your breasts in that way

he accidentally uses a bit too much pressure with his teeth, causing you to hiss in pain. He immediately freezes, his eyes filled with worry. "I'm so sorry... did I hurt you?" His voice soft, laced with adorable concern.

"no--its okay..just try to use a little less teeth..and relax"

Anakin nods, his expression turning gentle again. He leans back in, this time more careful, his touch feather-light. He alternates between sucking and licking, paying close attention to the way you react to his touch. "Like this?" He asks softly, his voice muffled against your skin.

"just like that" you tugged on his curls

After the moaned sentence left your mouth, Anakin felt a surge of pride. He continues his gentle ministrations, his own body growing harder with each passing moment. He looks up at you,l with his eyes hooded. "Can I... can I kiss you lower now?"

Nerd!Anakin who was scared to eat you out at first, cause it'd be his very much first pussy. But when he did, he had no idea how to do it. He used his teeth a little too much, his tongue a bit too forceful but in time he got better

Nerd!Anakin who loves space documentaries. He'll make you sit with him on the couch to watch them, enthusiastically pointing out facts you didn’t even know he knew. He’s the type to lean over and say things like, “Did you know that this system’s star is actually binary? And it formed 4.6 billion years ago?”

Nerd!Anakin who uses cheesy, nerdy pick-up lines that leave you both laughing. He’s the kind of guy who would say, “Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you’re Cu-Te.” He says it with so much confidence that you can’t help but find it endearing.

When you tease him about it, he’ll get all flustered, scratching the back of his head with that sheepish grin. “I thought it was clever..and you'd like it, maybe give me a small kiss or something.."

Nerd!Anakin who is fiercely protective of his tech projects. If someone tries to mess with them or touch his tools without asking, he’ll get all defensive. “Hey, be careful with that! I’ve been working on this for weeks.”

But when it’s you? He lets you mess with his projects all you want, even if it makes him a bit nervous. He’ll give you a dorky smile and say, “Just don’t break it, okay?” But secretly, he loves sharing his passions with you.

Nerd!Anakin who, as smart as he is with machines, is absolutely terrible in the kitchen. He’ll try to make you dinner as a sweet surprise, but something always goes wrong—he burns the food, the recipe doesn’t turn out, or the kitchen ends up looking like a disaster zone.

He’ll stand there, looking embarrassed but hopeful, holding a burnt dish with a lopsided grin. “Uh, it’s a little... crispy..”

Nerd!Anakin who leaves you small, nerdy notes;

On a sticky note on your fridge

"You’re the binary star to my existence. Without you, my orbit is off. Also, I reprogrammed the toaster. You're welcome.”

In your notebook or planner

“If I could rewrite the laws of physics, I'd bend space-time just to spend an extra 5 minutes with you.”

"The only code I can’t crack? How you make my heart race this fast.

Tucked inside your favorite book

“You're like the perfect algorithm: complex, beautiful, and always leaving me wanting to solve the equation that is you.”

On your desk after a long day

“You must have a gravity field around you, because I can't seem to stay away. P.S. Check under the desk, I might've added a small modification.”

Next to your coffee in the morning

"You must be a supernova, because you light up my entire galaxy."

Left on the keyboard of your laptop

“I may be fluent in over 6 million forms of communication, but none can express how much you mean to me. Except maybe binary: 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101.”

On a scrap of paper in your bag

“If life were an RPG, you’d be the rarest item—a perfect balance of stats, charisma, and intelligence. Also, +100 beauty.”

Tucked in between your sketchpad pages (if you're into art)

“You’re the canvas, I’m the artist... together, we create the perfect masterpiece. P.S. I’m still better at drawing starships though.”

Left in your lunchbox

“Did you know you increase productivity in starship repairs by 43% just by being near me? I’d call that a superpower.”

Taped to a little DIY gadget he made for you

“This little thing is just like you—ingenious and holds everything together. Also, try pressing the blue button for a surprise.”

Next to your favorite snack

“You’re like the perfect engineering schematic: flawless in design, and I can’t stop marveling at the details.”

In your locker

"I’d cross the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs just to see your smile."

“Did you know a day on Venus is longer than a year? Just like how waiting to see you again feels like”

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet (I have not forgot about you now ;) )

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[sideysvault]

۶ৎ Virtuous initiation ۶ৎ

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Wc: 1,500k

Tags: [sfw] Mature themes, canon typical violence, newly weds, vulnerable Aemond, arranged marriage, both are afraid of sex, domestic bliss.

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Prince Aemond is known to be practical to the extreme, he seems to have no patience for the incompetence of his brother or his mother’s hidden sentimentalism, often feeling horror towards failure, and openly frowning at any suggestion of true romantic felicity.

The Prince frequently ignores you, of course, but that is to be expected in political betrothal. Although you personally are of the belief that a little excitement, conversation and respect would do you some good. But what is one to do?

Often fancying beyond the realms of your condition, your mind keeps itself occupied with thoughts of what may become of you with less social opposition and more personal stimulus. You dream of being a scholar, a master, to finally visit The Citadel, and that you may finally make a home out of the Red Keep. That perhaps, even in between the most interrelated webs of political opposition, inherited resentments, and southeastern superstitions one may find peace and harmony and knowledge. These desires seemed to be equally improbable, and you had begun to come to terms with it. Childhood dreams. Nothing more.

He slightly frightens you, but not nearly enough as everyone assumes he should have. For a reason that you truly couldn’t comprehend, all the residents of Kings Landing find him rather physically odd. Why is that? If, after all, he still looks like a proper Targaryen Prince, even with one functioning eye. His childhood wound could never deny his long straight silver hair that reminded you of the most fine jewelry on your mothers dressing table. His blue eyes told stories that loosely resembled the songs that sirens chanted by the East Coast: Dangerous, calculating, and yet, they invited fascination and curiosity. His handsome features, delicate, sharp, and firm, gave his face an undeniably royal quality. And if you knew no better, you would probably be at his feet, wanting to gain his unobtainable affections.

Receiving condolences and concern from members of the court upon the news of your betrothal puzzled you. From your understanding, the youngest brother was quieter, smarter, patient, and more honorable than the King.

You felt a bit of shame, but you did recognize that you felt incredibly grateful that His Grace, the King, was already married. It saddened you that the cross was for his sister to bear, but you’ve heard the violent stories:whispered to you by maidens, servants, and members of the court. The veracity of those stories had quickly been made evident by the poorly contained, worried reactions of the Queen Dowager whenever her son was alone and near a female servant.

Prince Aemond’s chambers were as queer as his personality. Spotless, in an obsessive manner that goes far beyond the traditional efficiency of cleaning servants. The extensive library was the only thing that filled the space with character of its own, the books seemed to rebel and demand disorderly presence by their own right. His private library exploited the fragility of your curious mind and your predisposition for literature. Your greatest sin was to often sneak into the Prince’s room to borrow books from his collection, which was far more delectable and interesting than the Castle’s general library.

A stupid, brash decision. Especially considering Aemond’s serious disposition and angsty, hostile character. But you couldn’t help yourself when you saw the chambers unattended. Wanting to see the whispered wonders of his personal collection. The prince knew of your intrusion, of course. As when you came back to return your theft, you realized with horror that he had left a single stone where the book you had borrowed was. Feeling ashamed, you had returned it to its place and accommodated the fatal stone on the left side to the candle of his bureau.

The Gods are sometimes merciful, and apparently so is the Targaryen Prince. The chambers often remained unlocked, and by his instruction, the guards left the entrance unattended around the same time of your earlier visits. You would take a book from his collection, and he would place the rock marking the missing spot. Whenever you finished your reading, you would put it back in place, and the stone was to be accommodated at the left of the candle. A childish game, perhaps. But it was all it really took for you to discard the warnings of your peers and for romantic apparitions to plague your mind at night.

You wanted him. Truly. There was no room in your heart for power, or titles. But you wanted to comfort the soul of the disgraced Prince, hear him laugh, to thank him for his kindness, for extending his knowledge to you instead of punishing your intrusion of privacy, the defiance of your role. It did exhaust you a good deal, the uncertainty of your stay within the walls of The Red Keep. Having to be sly and poise about how you managed yourself, or to be met with heavy words of disapproval. Targaryen folk, closer to Gods than to men, were not to be played with, even if you were promised to one of them.

Still, when the state of affairs was concluded, and your place -and life-in the Red Keep was safeguarded, a new sorrow visited your soul. Consummating the marriage terrified you. You had attentively heard the warning stories of your mother, that even the most honorable and prestigious of men were to be deviant tyrants in bed, that pain went hand in hand with obedience, and the dangers of childbirth were not to be ignored. Suddenly scared, vulnerable, and not so certain of your newlywed husband’s kind character, you dreaded the day he finally came in to claim his bride’s virtue. You would make a point of visiting Helena in the dark hours of dawn, of avoiding being alone in a room with your husband, of taking walks through the gardens at night, sleeping in benches and waking just before the sun rose to return to the Prince’s chambers before being seen by members of the court.

Tired of this new-found routine, and wanting to sleep in the depths of a bed and its soft sheets, you decided that the occurrence was unavoidable, and the reasonable cost of your sexual condition.

If Aemond was surprised see you laying in bed when he walked into the chambers, he did not show proof of it on his face. You instantly regretted the color of the white cotton nightgown, translucent enough to showcase your hardened nipples. It wasn’t your intention to provoke the Prince, but the cold, humid weather of the Capital was at odds with your intent. The air was invited to come inside by the wide window, which offered a beautiful sight of all the candles burning in the distant homes of Westeros. You tried to distract yourself with the view.

Your husband took off his clothes. He looked tired, even under the dim, warm yellow lights of the room. He wore his silver hair in a queue, and as he quietly sat on the marital bed, you made a decision. Mustering all the courage on your heart, you decided to show him kindness for not questioning your nightly disappearances.

Restricting your movements, trying to tame your hands to be as tender and calm as they could be, as one would act in front of an unpredictable animal, you untied his hair. Slowly brushing the silver strings, untangling them after what seemed to be a tedious day. It was silly of you to feel scared of even this slight contact, but as the Prince slightly groaned upon your touch, you felt your heart beating rapidly in the outset of your neck. Controlling your fear of consummation, you continued to brush his hair, adding a small massage to his shoulders and broad neck. When it was finished, you tried to take a hold of yourself.

Yes, men could be cruel, but Aemond had shown a considerable amount of restraint and compassion.

Laying down in an uncomfortable synchrony, you both occupied the time by silently looking at the baroque decoration on the ceiling. After some time, the prince whispered to you “Are you disappointed with the exchange?” His voice sounded foreign to his character. Soft, vulnerable. You assumed he meant of your marital arrangement, and when you turned to face him, wanting to see the Prince in the eye while he spoke to you, his bared faced caught you by surprise.

His left eye, which was man crafted, was as blue as the real one. You did not know the name of the stone that filled his empty socket, but it was beautiful, and it reflected a much brighter light that the one available in the chamber. He shifted slightly, embarrassed upon your transfixed gaze, but he said nothing upon the matter.

Pretending to consider your answer for a moment, you murmured a no. You meant it. Seemingly relieved, your husband slowly nodded and laid down your legs, throwing a protective arm over them, drawing circles over your nightgown. Your hands instinctively moved to rest on his head, and you began to brush his silver moon with your fingers, tracing unmarked paths on the left side of his face. You could feel his warm breath against your skin, and you would have sworn that all the small muscles at the base of each hair of your leg contracted and burned with his touch. After a while, you felt something else. A soft smile against your skin. Your bodies could finally rest, releasing all of their contained fear. 

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Notes: I was inspired by the yellow wallpaper for this one. I’ve been thinking about him all month. Pleaseeee I need him so bad. Hope you enjoyed this one! Have fun and take care of one another

- Sidey xooo

Pd: Some parts of this fic will be re used and rewritten for a new series featuring Aemond!

[castorizz]

Hugo relationship headcanons... please..... feed the starving........

... ❝ RELATIONSHIP HCS! ❞ ft. hugo x reader

𝒾. ⠀FEATURING : an assortment of headcanons about your relationship with hugo!

꒰ contents ꒱ mild spoilers for hugo's backstory i guess? gn!reader. fluff. headcanons. wc : 1052

꒰ notes ꒱ HIII ANON!! thank you for the request hehe i hope this is to your liking, i'm still getting a grasp on his character :")) + @rainswept hugo tag <3

a relationship with hugo is not easy. not at first, at least.

despite his collected exterior, the scars of his past still sting when pressed, and it's a pain not easy to ignore, no matter how much he tries to convince himself he has healed. it takes a while to allow himself to open up enough to begin the relationship in the first place, let alone let his guards fall, one by one...

but he'll manage. he's nothing if not resilient; give him time, patience, and the chance to ask you out himself, and he will be the most attentive lover you've ever had.

it starts with the classic: flowers, a huge bouquet that takes two hands to hold, and a box of chocolates. he's calm when he's handing them to you, his voice even as he spits out the confession speech that took hours in the mirror to prepare, but his mind is going haywire, worrying about whether it's too much, too soon. maybe he should have stuck with just the chocolates after all, or even just a smaller bunch of roses, or something else entirely—

he's thankful you don't let him languish in his thoughts for too long, cutting off his overthinking with a simple “yes.” it takes all he can to restrain himself from breaking out into relieved laughter at your response.

it's all history from there. when you're with hugo, nothing is ever boring; he'd consider it a personal affront for his beloved to be disinterested when they're out with him. no matter what you're doing, be it an extravagant day out, or quiet night in, there's always something to look forward to.

the more elaborate dates are what he leans towards in the beginning, as a means to impress you—dinners at the most high-end restaurants, and tours of art galleries—but it's the simple ones where he truly shines. when all of the grandeur and showiness is melted away, when it's just the two of you curled up under a weighted blanket with some trashy rom-com playing in the background, that's when he truly feels at home.

at the start of the relationship he's careful with his affection. even the most innocuous gestures are subtle tests, experimenting to see what you are and aren't comfortable with. pet names are one of the first things he tries out, a genuine “darling,” or “sweetheart,” slipped into the teasing, overly sappy “honey-pie,” and “snookums.”

when it comes to physical affection though, he tends to be... flighty.

a part of it is the natural touch-starvation that comes with being deprived of gentle touch for so long, but another is the fact that he simply doesn't know how to respond to it. it's not that he's opposed to the feeling, he simply prefers to be the one to touch you, to ensure he keeps some level of control over the situation.

it makes it easier. safer. if he knows if and when it happens, he doesn't have to worry about the instinctual recoil that happens whenever you suddenly grab his arm, or the overwhelming swell of emotion in his chest when you kiss his cheek. after a while, the instinct starts to dull, but it never quite ceases fully.

in any case, he doesn't stop you from touching him, (he doesn't know if he could bring himself to, even if he wanted to) but he favours the touches that he's warned about beforehand. ask for a kiss, and he'll never refuse; motion for a hug, and his arms will be open and waiting.

he tends to mirror what you like; every touch—even the ones that seem casual—is another test of what you're receptive to. once he's satisfied with his understanding of your boundaries, your wants and needs, he's more than happy to indulge you—no matter how much or how little you like.

one thing he does like is when you're walking together, he enjoys having you hold his arm, instead of his hand. it feels so much more intimate somehow, having your hands linked through his arm. he can't help but glance over at you every few seconds, a wide grin breaking over his face as he realizes how lucky he is.

hugo is extremely perceptive to how you feel, almost scarily so. there's no use trying to hide anything from him. surprises, secrets, suppressed feelings, he notices it all. if there's an issue in your relationship, he doesn't let it linger; he sits you down and confronts it together.

and if you're having problems of your own, he's also there to help. he might be slightly overzealous with helping you fix whatever you have going on, but he's more than willing to just listen if that's what you need. either way, he can't stand the idea of you keeping something to yourself when it's clearly troubling you.

somehow, despite his directness when it comes to resolving conflict, the first “i love you,” takes a while. it's a difficult sentence for him to muster up, even if it's been months since you got together. in a way, it's the weight of it that holds him back. speaking it aloud

so he saves it for a moment that seems casual, perhaps to steel his nerves slightly, or to simply soften the blow. it happens when you're half asleep, mid-way through your nightly routine. he's on his way to the kitchen for a glass of water when he pauses by you in the bathroom, kisses your temple and whispers an “i love you,” into your hair.

in fact, you're so tired that you don't even notice it at first, simply humming in response as he ducks out of the room. it's a few seconds later when the words finally process, and you almost drop the toothbrush in your hand.

what follows is you dashing to the kitchen to confront him, a flurry of questions on your lips. he's frustratingly impassive with his responses, an air of forced calmness about him, as if he hadn't just shocked your entire system. the bewilderment on your face is amusing to a degree, but there's an anxiousness that accompanies it; one that doesn't ease until he hears those sweet, four words that he's been craving ever since the day he asked you to be his.

“i love you too.”

©castorizz 2025 : do not copy, translate, repost, redistribute, or use my work to train ai. reblogs are appreciated <33

[artifacts-and-arthropods]

The Oriental Blue Clearwing Moth: these moths were regarded as a "lost species" for more than 130 years, until they were finally sighted again in 2013

For more than 130 years, the Oriental blue clearwing moth (Heterosphecia tawonoides) was known only from a single, badly damaged specimen that was collected in Sumatra in 1887. There were no recorded sightings of this species again until 2013, when entomologist Dr. Marta Skowron Volponi unexpectedly found the moths feeding on salt deposits that had accumulated along the riverbanks in Malaysia's lowland rainforest.

These moths were observed by researchers again in 2016 and 2017, and research indicates that the moths are actually bee-mimics, as they mimic the appearance, sound, behavior, and flight patterns of local bees. Their fuzzy, bright blue appearance might seem a little out of place for a bee-mimic, but those features do appear in several different bee species throughout Southeast Asia.

When the moths are in flight, they bear a particularly strong resemblance to the bees of the genus Thyreus (i.e. cuckoo bees, otherwise known as cloak-and-dagger bees), several of which are also bright blue, with banded markings, dark blue wings, fuzzy legs, and smooth, rounded antennae. The physical resemblance is compounded by the acoustic and behavioral mimicry that occurs when the moths are in flight.

Cloak-and-Dagger Bees: the image at the top shows an Indo-Malayan cloak-and-dagger bee (Thyreus novaehollandiae) in a sleeping position, holding itself upright with its mandibles clamped onto a twig, while the image at the bottom shows a Himalayan cloak-and-dagger bee (T. himalayensis) resting in the same position

The moths also engage in "mud-puddling" among the various bees that congregate along the riverbanks; mud-puddling is the process whereby an insect (usually a bee or a butterfly) draws nutrients from the fluids found in puddles, wet sand, decaying plant matter, carrion, animal waste, sweat, tears, and/or blood. According to researchers, the Oriental blue clearwing moth was the only lepidopteran that was seen mud-puddling among the local bees.

Dr. Skowron Volponi commented on the unusual appearance and behavior of these moths:

You think about moths and you envision a grey, hairy insect that is attracted to light. But this species is dramatically different—it is beautiful, shiny blue in sunlight and it comes out during the day; and it is a master of disguise, mimicking bees on multiple levels and even hanging out with them. The Oriental blue clearwing is just two centimeters in size, but there are so many fascinating things about them and so much more we hope to learn.

This species is still incredibly vulnerable, as it faces threats like deforestation, pollution, and climate change. The president of Global Wildlife Conservation, which is an organization that seeks to rediscover "lost species," added:

After learning about this incredible rediscovery, we hope that tourists visiting Taman Negara National Park and picnicking on the riverbanks—the home of these beautiful clearwing moths—will remember to tread lightly and to take their trash out of the park with them. We also recommend that Americans learn about palm oil production, which is one of the primary causes of deforestation in Malaysia.

Sources & More Info:

Phys.org: Bee-Mimicking Clearwing Moth Buzzes Back to Life After 130 Years

Mongabay News: Moth Rediscovered in Malaysia Mimics Appearance and Behavior of Bees to Escape Predators

Journal of Tropical Conservation Science: Lost Species of Bee-Mimicking Clearwing Moth, H. tawonoides, Rediscovered in Peninsular Malaysia's Primary Rainforest

Frontiers in Zoology: Southeast Asian Clearwing Moths Buzz like their Model Bees

Royal Society Publishing: Moving like a Model - mimicry of hymenopteran flight trajectories by clearwing moths of Southeast Asian rainforests

Medium: Rediscovery in a Glint of Blue

re:wild.org: The "Search for Lost Species" Project

[mocharyc]

Invincible variants x reader Final ✩ ‧ ₊ ˚

The choice is yours ♡

✩ ‧ ₊ ˚ Shattered Reflections‧ ₊ ˚

☆ WC: 8k+ [Final Part] ☆ TW: fluff ☆ Author's Note: I figured I couldn't drag this series out forever, and everything must come to an end; but, I like happy endings(♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

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The interrogation room housing Angstrom Levy resembled a surgical theater designed by someone with a fondness for medieval torture.

Clinical steel surfaces reflected the harsh, pulsing light that cast everything in a sickly pallor, transforming even the smallest droplets of blood into obsidian pools against the metallic backdrop. The air tasted of copper and ozone—a potent cocktail of bodily fluids and dimensional energy that clung to the back of Y/N's throat like a physical presence.

Y/N stood in the doorway, hair still damp from her shower, wearing a spare flight suit she'd found in the quarters. The material felt foreign against her skin—too tight in some places, too loose in others, as if her body had somehow been fundamentally altered by recent events. Perhaps it had been. The fabric caught on the tender marks Sinister had left behind, each small pain a reminder of choices made and boundaries crossed.

Nine pairs of eyes turned toward her as she entered—Nine identical faces bearing the unmistakable features of Mark Grayson yet transformed by circumstance and tragedy into something distinctly other. Eight variations of the same man, each carrying the ghost of a woman who wore her face but wasn't her. The weight of their collective gaze pressed against her like a physical force, threatening to crush her renewed resolve before it had fully formed.

Angstrom Levy hung suspended in the center of the room, dimensional energy crackling around the restraints that had been fashioned from components of his own machinery. His body was a ruined testament to the variants' interrogation methods—limbs hanging at unnatural angles, one arm nearly detached at the shoulder, the other missing entirely. His legs were little more than mangled flesh held together by hastily applied medical equipment. Tubes and wires penetrated his torso at multiple points, machinery pumping fluids into what remained of his body, the only thing keeping him alive. His face was swollen beyond recognition, blood dripping steadily from his bloodshot eyes, the tissue bruised and swollen from whatever methods the variants had employed to extract information. 

Despite his obvious suffering, his eyes gleamed with malevolent intelligence as they fixed on Y/N—knowing, calculating, as if he alone understood some cosmic joke at their expense. "The guest of honor arrives," he rasped, voice scraping like sandpaper across raw nerves. Blood dripped from his bloodshot eyes, tracing the contour of his chin before dropping to join the constellation of similar stains on the floor beneath him. "How was your... dimensional detour?"

Mohawk Mark lunged forward, the fluorescent lights catching on the blue accents of his suit as his muscled form coiled with violent intent. "Shut your fucking mouth before I tear out what's left of your tongue," he snarled.

"Unnecessary," Omni Mark interjected, his eyes, only partially hidden behind dark lenses, never left Y/N's face. "He's already told us what we need to know."

Y/N stepped fully into the room, refusing to shrink beneath the weight of their attention. The spare flight suit whispered against her skin as she moved, the sound almost deafening in the sudden silence. "And what exactly is that?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

Viltrumite Mark moved toward her, his white suit was somehow untouched by the brutality evident throughout the room. When he stood before her, she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze—a reminder of her physical vulnerability despite the Viltrumite strength flowing through her veins.

"You're not what you think you are," he said, his voice softer than expected. Something in his expression shifted—the imperious mask slipping for the briefest moment to reveal an emotion too complex to name. He raised a hand to her face, the immaculate white of his glove a stark contrast against her skin as he brushed a stray droplet of water from her temple.

The touch was feather-light, yet Y/N felt it reverberate through her entire being. Her breath caught in her throat, heart skipping traitorously at the tenderness so at odds with the violence permeating the air around them.

"What are you talking about?" she managed, fighting to maintain her composure beneath the warmth of his palm.

A wet chuckle from Angstrom drew their attention back to the center of the room. "Tell her," he urged, eyes gleaming with malicious delight despite his battered condition. "Tell her what makes her so special. Why every version of Mark Grayson across the multiverse seems destined to orbit her like moths around a flame."

Phantom Mark stepped forward, the same expressionless mask hiding whatever emotions might be playing across his features."You're not just a human injected with Viltrumite DNA," he said, his voice distorted yet somehow gentle through the mask's filter. "You're a constant."

"A what?" Y/N's brow furrowed in confusion.

Emperor Mark's lip curled with disdain as he gestured toward Angstrom. "According to our friend here, certain elements repeat across the multiverse—fixed points around which reality organizes itself." 

"You are one such element."

"In every universe," Lensless Mark contributed, his voice pitchingin an octave higher, with the dried blood flaking from his knuckles, "there exists a version of you. And in every universe—" His voice faltered, a shadow passing across his youthful features.

"In every universe, you die," Prisoner Mark finished bluntly, the scarred tissue of his face pulling tight as he spoke. "Horribly. Tragically. Usually because of him." He jerked his burned chin toward Mohawk Mark, who flinched as if physically struck.

"Not just because of me," Mohawk growled, the aggression in his voice barely masking something more vulnerable beneath. His mohawk seemed to droop slightly, as if the weight of accumulated guilt had physical mass. "Because of all of us. Because of what we are..."

"What are you?" Y/N challenged, her voice stronger now, fed by the confusion and frustration bubbling beneath her surface.

"Destroyers," Sinister Mark's voice slithered from the shadows. He leaned against a far wall, his yellow and black suit now mostly intact thanks to hasty repairs. Though his face showed evidence of the beating he'd received—a purpling bruise along his jaw, split lip still glistening with fresh blood—his customary smirk remained firmly in place. 

"It's what we do best, dove. We break things. Sometimes planets. Sometimes people." His eyes glinted behind his cracked lenses. "Sometimes hearts."

Y/N refused to look away from his knowing gaze, refused to acknowledge the heat that crept up her neck at the memory. "I don't believe in destiny," she stated firmly. "Or cosmic constants. I make my own choices."

"Do you?" No-Mask Mark asked quietly, his unprotected face revealing every nuance of his skepticism. "When we found you, you were under GDA mind control. When we released you, you fell into our orbit. When separated from us, you immediately formed a connection with—" He stopped himself, unable to voice the obvious conclusion.

"With me," Sinister finished for him, satisfaction evident in his tone. "Face it, dove. You're drawn to us. All versions of us. It's written into the fabric of reality itself."

"That's enough," Omni Mark commanded, his quiet authority somehow more compelling than Mohawk's explosive rage or Emperor's imperious demands. He moved to stand between Y/N and Sinister, his tall frame effectively blocking her view of the yellow-suited variant. "What matters isn't why Y/N exists in every universe. What matters is what happens next."

Y/N looked up at him, struck by the intensity burning behind his composed exterior. Of all the variants, Omni Mark remained the most enigmatic—his emotions controlled yet somehow more authentic for their restraint. When he looked at her, she felt seen in a way that transcended the physical—as if those eyes behind dark lenses could perceive every layer of her being and found value in each one.

"Angstrom has given us the means to travel between dimensions," he continued, his gaze never leaving her face. "Each of us must choose our path forward."

Viltrumite Mark's hand, still resting against her cheek, dropped to her shoulder. The touch remained gentle despite the strength she knew those fingers possessed—strength enough to crush diamonds, to tear steel like paper, to break bones with the slightest pressure. Yet against her skin, they were nothing but warmth and comfort.

"Some of us have already chosen," he said softly, his thumb tracing a small circle against the fabric covering her collarbone. The simple gesture sent shivers cascading down her spine, her body responding to his touch with embarrassing immediacy.

From his suspended position, Angstrom laughed—a wet, gurgling sound that sprayed fine droplets of blood into the air around him. "So noble," he mocked. "So self-sacrificing. Tell me, Viltrumite, will you share that choice with her? Or will you let her believe the lie a little longer?"

Viltrumite Mark's expression hardened, disdain replacing the tenderness that had softened his features moments before. "Silence," he commanded.

Y/N stepped back from his touch, sudden suspicion clouding her features. "What is he talking about? What choice?"

The variants exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them that excluded her despite being its subject. The air in the room grew heavier, charged with unspoken truths and fragile alliances on the verge of shattering.

"Tell her," Sinister urged from his position against the wall, his voice thick with something that might have been concern if it came from anyone else. "Or I will."

Omni Mark sighed, a sound so human and vulnerable that it momentarily stripped away his aura of controlled power. "The portals Angstrom creates aren't stable," he explained, turning to face Y/N fully. "Moving between dimensions fractures reality—tears at the fabric holding the multiverse together." (guys, this is real shit here 😎).

"With each jump," Phantom Mark continued, his masked face tilted slightly as if sharing a regrettable truth, "the damage compounds. Eventually, the barriers between worlds will collapse entirely."

"Universal annihilation," Emperor Mark concluded. "Not just our worlds. All worlds. Everything."

Y/N's mind struggled to process the magnitude of what they were describing. "But you've been jumping between dimensions this entire time," she said, her voice faint with realization. "The Invincible War—all those portals—"

"Have already caused incalculable damage," Viltrumite Mark confirmed, his imperial bearing now tinged with genuine regret. "We didn't know. Not until we forced Angstrom to explain why the portals were becoming increasingly unstable."

"There's only one solution," Omni Mark said quietly. His hand reached for hers, enveloping her smaller fingers in a gentle grip that offered support without demanding reciprocation. "We must return to our original dimensions and seal the pathways behind us. Permanently."

The implications crashed over Y/N like a physical wave. "You're leaving," she whispered, the words tasting like ash on her tongue. Despite everything—despite the chaos and violence they had brought into her life, despite Sinister's betrayal and the conflicting emotions they all evoked—the thought of losing them carved a hollow space beneath her ribs.

"Not all of us," Mohawk Mark interjected, stepping forward with hesitation. The blue accents of his suit seemed dimmer somehow, as if reflecting his subdued mood. "Someone has to stay in this dimension. To..." He faltered, searching for words that wouldn't sound like abandonment.

"To close the door behind us," Prisoner Mark finished for him, scarred hands flexing at his sides as if already preparing for combat. "Someone has to ensure Angstrom never opens another portal. Ever."

Understanding dawned like a cold sunrise. "You're going to kill him," Y/N stated flatly.

"Not immediately," Emperor Mark clarified, examining his immaculate gloves with studied nonchalance. "First, he'll send each of us home. Then..." He shrugged, the regal gesture somehow making the implied violence more disturbing.

"And one of you will stay behind," Y/N concluded, eyes scanning their faces—identical yet uniquely marked by their individual journeys through pain and power. "In this dimension. With me."

The silence that followed carried the weight of worlds. These men—these variations of Mark Grayson—had fought across dimensions for her, had shattered realities to find her, had nearly killed each other over her. And now, all but one would vanish back into the multiverse, leaving her with a single version of the man who had become the center of her existence whether she wished it or not.

"The question is," Sinister pushed away from the wall, moving with predatory grace despite his injuries, "which one stays and which ones go?" His smile was all teeth and challenge as his gaze swept the assembled variants before landing on Y/N. "Care to choose, dove? Or shall we fight it out the old-fashioned way?"

Before anyone could respond, the entire structure shuddered around them. Lights flickered erratically, casting the room in strobing patterns of illumination and shadow. A distant boom resonated through the metal flooring, vibrating up through Y/N's feet and into her bones.

Lensless Mark darted to a console, fingers flying over blood-spattered keys. "Perimeter breach," he announced, childlike enthusiasm returning as he read the scrolling data, “Angstroms base has been discovered.”

"The GDA found us," No-Mask Mark concluded grimly. "They're coming for you, Y/N. For all of us."

"How appropriate," Angstrom wheezed from his suspended position, eyes gleaming with malevolent delight despite his battered condition. "Your time runs out just as reality itself begins to fracture. Poetic, wouldn't you say?"

Omni Mark's grip on Y/N's hand tightened fractionally—not enough to hurt, just enough to ground her in the moment. When she looked up at him, she found his normally composed features animated with an urgency that sent her heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with fear.

"We need to move," he stated, voice calm despite the chaos erupting around them. "This facility won't withstand a concentrated GDA assault."

"Let them come," Mohawk snarled, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, veins bulging along his forearms as his more volatile nature reasserted itself. "I'll tear them apart molecule by fucking molecule."

"And risk Y/N in the process?" Viltrumite Mark challenged, stepping protectively closer to her, "Think beyond your rage for once."

Another explosion rocked the structure, this one closer than the last. Dust filtered down from overhead conduits, dancing in the irregular light like microscopic snowflakes. Somewhere in the distance, alarms began to wail—a mechanical banshee heralding approaching doom.

Y/N pulled her hand from Omni Mark's grasp, a new determination hardening inside her. "I need answers," she insisted, turning toward Angstrom with purpose in her stride. "Before this place comes down around us. Before any of you leave."

Angstrom regarded her with amused disdain, his mangled body twitching slightly as he struggled to maintain consciousness through the pain. "What would you like to know, my dear? How many versions of you I've seen die? How many versions of him—" he jerked his chin toward the assembled variants, "—I've watched break apart in grief?"

Y/N stepped closer, refusing to be intimidated by his mockery. "Why me? Why do I exist in every universe? What makes me a constant?"

Angstrom's lips stretched into a smile that held no warmth. "Haven't you guessed? It's not you that's the constant—it's what you represent." His eyes gleamed with malicious intelligence. "Loss. Grief. The catalyst that transforms heroes into monsters."

Behind her, Y/N heard one of the variants inhale sharply—a sound like pain given voice. She didn't turn to see which one. Her focus remained locked on Angstrom's bruised face, searching for truth among his calculated cruelties.

"In every universe," Angstrom continued, clearly relishing his role as narrator of their tragic tale, "Mark Grayson loves you. And in every universe, he loses you. Sometimes to violence. Sometimes to disease. Sometimes—" his gaze flicked briefly to the variants, "—because of their own failure to protect what they claims to cherish."

The room fell silent save for the distant alarms and the creaking of the structure around them. Y/N's mind raced, trying to process the implications of what Angstrom was suggesting. If she truly was destined to die in every universe—if her loss was the fixed point around which these men's descent into darkness orbited—then what hope did any of them have for a different outcome?

"You're lying," she whispered, but uncertainty colored her voice.

Angstrom's laugh was wet and hollow. "Am I? Ask them. Ask them what happened to their Y/N. Ask them if they could have saved her, if only they'd been faster, stronger, smarter." His eyes glittered with malevolent delight. "Ask them if they still hear her screams when they close their eyes at night."

A hand settled on Y/N's shoulder—warm, solid, grounding her before she could spiral further into the abyss Angstrom was crafting with his words. She didn't need to look to know it was Omni Mark; something in the gentle strength of his touch was unmistakably his.

"Enough," he said, not to her but to Angstrom. The single word carried such authority that even Angstrom's mocking smile faltered momentarily. "You've had your fun. Now you'll send us home, one by one, as promised."

"And if I refuse?" Angstrom challenged, though his bravado seemed thinner now, worn away by pain and the inexorable approach of GDA forces.

"Then you die now instead of later," Sinister stated simply, stepping forward with deadly grace. The yellow and black of his suit seemed to absorb and reflect the flickering lights simultaneously, creating an almost hypnotic effect as he moved. "And we take our chances with the collapsing multiverse."

Another explosion rocked the facility, close enough now that Y/N could feel the heat of it against her skin. The lights failed completely for several seconds before emergency systems kicked in, bathing everything in a blood-red glow that transformed the interrogation room into something from a nightmare—all harsh shadows and crimson highlights that made even familiar faces seem suddenly alien.

"It seems our time grows short," Emperor Mark observed with aristocratic calm that belied the urgency of their situation. He turned to Y/N, his bearing momentarily softening as he regarded her. "We must make our decisions now. There is no more time for deliberation."

Y/N looked around at the assembled variants—these different versions of the same man, each shaped by tragedy and power into something unique yet fundamentally connected. In the red emergency lighting, they appeared more similar than ever despite their different suits and facial features—united by a singular focus that both terrified and thrilled her.

"How do we decide?" she asked, her voice steady despite the chaos erupting around them. "Who stays and who goes?"

"I stay," Mohawk insisted immediately, stepping forward. The blue accents of his suit appeared almost black in the crimson light, his mohawk casting a jagged shadow across his determined features. "In my world, I couldn't save her. I won't fail again."

He moved closer to Y/N, his usual aggression melting into something more vulnerable as he reached for her. His fingers, adorned with the faint traces of dried blood that no amount of washing seemed able to remove, hesitated in the air between them—as if uncertain of his right to touch her after his earlier failures. When Y/N didn't pull away, he gently cupped her face, the calloused pad of his thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone with surprising tenderness.

"I watched her die," he confessed, voice so low that only Y/N could hear the words. "I was foolish, careless not paying attention when she pushed me out of the way of the bullet, taking my placce—" His voice cracked, adam's apple bobbing violently as he swallowed back the memory. "I won't leave you. Not again. Not ever."

Before Y/N could respond, Viltrumite Mark stepped forward, his white suit now stained crimson by the emergency lights, transforming his regal appearance into something more sinister. "Your impulsiveness is what got your Y/N killed," he stated coldly. "I have the discipline and strength to protect her properly."

He moved with grace to stand at Y/N's other side, his hand coming to rest at the small of her back—a gesture that nonetheless sent warmth cascading through her nervous system. The heat of his palm penetrated the flight suit material as if it weren't there, his touch both protective and possessive in a way that made her breath catch.

"In my world," he said, leaning down to speak near her ear, his breath stirring the fine hairs at her temple, "I could have saved her if I hadn't been away securing the empire's borders. I've built a world where she would want for nothing, where her safety would be guaranteed by my command." His lips brushed against her skin as he spoke, not quite a kiss but something equally intimate. "Let me give you that world, Y/N. Let me give you everything I couldn't give her."

"You have a fucking empire to run," Prisoner Mark sneered, the scarred tissue of his face appearing even more grotesque in the red glow. "You'll take her back to your world and make her another ornament in your collection."

"I've already tasted what she offers," Sinister interjected, tongue darting out to moisten his split lip in a gesture that sent unwelcome heat spiraling through Y/N's core despite her best intentions. "The choice is obvious."

The argument might have descended into violence then—tension crackling between the variants like physical electricity—if not for a soft sound that cut through their posturing with startling effectiveness. It took Y/N a moment to realize the sound had come from her own throat—a small, broken laugh that contained equal parts hysteria and clarity.

"You're still doing it," she said, shaking her head in wonder. "Even now, with reality literally crumbling around us, you're fighting over me like I'm a prize to be won. Like I don't have any say in my own fate."

The variants fell silent, varying degrees of shame and defiance playing across their identical-yet-different features. In the red glow of emergency lighting, they seemed almost like apparitions—blood-stained specters of a man she had never truly known but somehow felt connected to on a cellular level.

"You're right," Omni Mark acknowledged, his composure slipping to reveal something raw and vulnerable beneath. In the crimson light, the gray portions of his suit appeared almost black, the red accents blending seamlessly with the emergency illumination as if he were dissolving into the bloodied atmosphere. "The choice should be yours. It has always been yours."

He stepped forward, but unlike the others, he maintained a respectful distance, offering his presence without demanding her attention. It was this—this quiet recognition of her autonomy—that drew Y/N's gaze to him more powerfully than any possessive touch or passionate declaration could have.

He removed his dark lenses, revealing eyes so filled with grief and tenderness that Y/N felt her own vision blur in response. "I learned then that love isn't possession or protection. It's presence. It's choosing to stay even when there's nothing you can do but witness." His gaze never wavered from hers, unwavering in its gentle intensity. "Whatever you decide, Y/N, I will honor it. Because that's what I couldn't do for her—give her the freedom to choose her own path, even at the end."

Y/N looked at him—really looked at him—and something shifted inside her chest. Of all the variants, Omni Mark alone had never tried to claim her, had never spoken of ownership or destiny. He had been there when she needed healing, offering soft kisses and gentle touches during those fragile moments after the war began, never taking more than she offered, never demanding what she couldn't give. He had offered support without demanding reciprocation, protection without requiring submission. He had seen her not as a replacement for someone lost but as herself—flawed, confused, but ultimately her own person.

Before she could voice this realization, the entire structure shuddered violently. The sound of groaning metal filled the air as support beams began to give way under repeated assault. Through the walls, they could hear the distinctive whine of GDA energy weapons powering up—the sound heralding imminent destruction.

"No more time," Phantom Mark stated, his masked face turning toward Angstrom. "Begin the transfers. Now."

Angstrom's body convulsed slightly as he channeled what remained of his power, dimensional energy crackling around him as he focused his power. "As you wish," he wheezed, blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth as he spoke. "Who's first to abandon her?"

The question hung in the air, loaded with implications that made Y/N's heart constrict painfully in her chest. Despite everything—despite the chaos and danger these men had brought into her life—the thought of watching them disappear one by one into the multiverse carved a hollow space beneath her ribs.

"I'll go," Emperor Mark stated, stepping forward with dignity. He turned to Y/N, regal bearing momentarily softening as he regarded her. "In another life, perhaps..." He didn't finish the thought, merely inclined his head in a gesture that somehow conveyed more genuine respect than any of his previous interactions.

Angstrom's eyes gleamed with concentration as dimensional energy coalesced around his suspended form. A portal began to form—not the violent tear they had witnessed before, but something more controlled, its edges defined and stable. Through its swirling depths, Y/N caught glimpses of a world both familiar and alien—Earth, but an Earth where Viltrumite banners flew from every building and the Imperial sigil adorned every surface.

Emperor Mark moved toward it without hesitation, his stride confident despite the decision's finality. At the portal's threshold, he paused, turning back one last time. "He was right, you know," he said, gaze fixed on Y/N. "About us hearing your screams at night. About failing you in every universe." A muscle twitched beneath his left eye—the only betrayal of emotion on his otherwise composed features. "Do better this time. Both of you."

With that, he stepped through, the portal closing behind him with a sound like reality sighing in relief.

"Next," Angstrom prompted, dimensional energy already gathering for another portal.

 Prisoner Mark approached Y/N before his departure, the scarred tissue of his face pulling taut as he struggled with words that didn't come easily to him. "I was in prison when she died," he said gruffly, hands curling into fists at his sides as if physically restraining himself from reaching for her. "Gang violence, and torture. I could have stopped it if I'd been there." His eyes, the only part of him untouched by whatever fire had claimed the rest, burned with intensity. "Don't let them cage you, Y/N. Not with walls. Not with expectations. Not even with love." 

He left with a bitter laugh, his scarred form dissolving into the swirling vortex of his home dimension. 

Each departure felt like a physical weight lifted from Y/N's chest, yet simultaneously created a new hollowness inside her. These men—these variations of Mark Grayson—had become the center of her existence whether she wished it or not. Watching them vanish was like witnessing pieces of herself dissolve into the multiverse. 

The structure continued to crumble around them, GDA forces drawing ever closer. Heat from external explosions began to seep through the walls, turning the air thick and difficult to breathe. The red emergency lighting flickered erratically, casting their remaining figures in strobing patterns of illumination and shadow.

 Phantom Mark walked to the edge of his designated portal, his body silhouetted against the emerald swirl. He stopped, looking back at Y/N, his form visibly trembling. Then, with what seemed like immense effort, he shook his head and stepped away from the portal, moving to stand against the wall. He clutched at his masked face with both hands, his shoulders shaking with silent emotion. "I need a moment to breathe before I go," he mumbled, his voice altered by the mask but unmistakably filled with tears. 

Now only six variants remained besides Angstrom—No-Mask Mark, Lensless Mark, and Phantom Mark stood together to one side, talking quietly among themselves as if debating whether to leave at all—Mohawk Mark with his barely contained fury, Viltrumite Mark with his imperial bearing, Omni Mark with his quiet strength, and Sinister leaning against a far wall with studied nonchalance despite the destruction raining down around them. The yellow and black of his suit seemed to absorb the red emergency lighting, transforming the bright colors into something murkier and more dangerous. 

He hadn't stepped forward for departure, hadn't volunteered to return to his dimension. His eyes remained fixed on Y/N, gaze heavy with implications that sent unwelcome heat coursing through her veins despite everything that had transpired between them.

"Time grows short," Viltrumite Mark observed as another explosion rocked the facility. Part of the ceiling collapsed in the corridor outside, sending clouds of dust billowing into the room. The sound of GDA tactical teams grew closer, the rhythmic thud of armored boots against metal flooring like a countdown to their imminent discovery. "We must decide."

Y/N looked between the remaining variants, chest tight with the weight of what was being asked of her. How could she choose? How could she select one version of this man to remain with her while condemning the others to return to worlds where they had already lost her once?

Mohawk Mark stalked toward her, "All my life," he growled, voice tight with barely contained feeling, "I've destroyed. I've hurt people. I've broken things." He stopped before her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the minute tremor in his hands as he fought to control himself. "But with you, I want to build. I want to create something that doesn't end in blood and fire."

His hand reached for hers, hesitating just above her skin as if waiting for permission. When she didn't pull away, his fingers intertwined with hers, the contact sending electric currents of awareness up her arm. "Choose me," he whispered, the plea so at odds with his usual aggression that it took Y/N's breath away. "Let me show you I can be more than the monster I became after I lost her."

Before she could respond, Viltrumite Mark was at her other side, his presence demanding attention without a word being spoken. He didn't touch her, yet his proximity was a physical force—a gravitational pull that made her aware of every inch of space between them. 

"I can give you worlds," he said quietly, the promise in his voice both thrilling and terrifying. "I can place galaxies at your feet. I can ensure that no harm ever comes to you again." His eyes, so like the others yet distinct in their certainty, held hers with hypnotic intensity. The depths of those eyes contained the vastness of conquered space—stars and systems that had bowed before him, now offered as tributes to her. "In my universe, I rule. What is yours by choice here would be yours by right there."

"Choice," Omni Mark echoed from where he stood, still maintaining that respectful distance. The single word carried a weight that seemed to settle in the room, creating a counterbalance to Viltrumite Mark's overwhelming presence. "That's what matters, isn't it? Not gifts or protection or promises." He stepped forward, movements deliberate yet unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world despite the chaos erupting around them. His footsteps were measured, each one a conscious decision rather than an impulsive action. "You've never truly had a choice, Y/N. Not since the GDA experimented on you. Not since we found you. Not since—" his gaze flicked briefly toward Sinister, "—certain events transpired."

He stopped before her, not crowding her like the others but simply offering his presence. The space between them felt sacred somehow, a deliberate gap that spoke of respect rather than distance. "I would give you that choice. Every day. In everything." The sincerity in his voice was a tangible thing, wrapping around Y/N like a shield against the uncertainty crashing through her. It resonated in her chest like a forgotten melody—familiar though she'd never heard it before, comforting though she'd never known such comfort.

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, centering herself amid the chaos. The world narrowed to the rhythm of her own heartbeat, to the warmth of multiple gazes upon her skin, to the weight of a decision that would reshape not just one universe but many. When she opened them again, her gaze fell on Omni Mark—on the quiet strength of his bearing, on the patience with which he awaited her decision.

"I choose—" she began, but her words were drowned out by a deafening explosion directly overhead.

The ceiling gave way in a catastrophic cascade of metal and composite materials, chunks of debris raining down with deadly force. The air filled with a dissonant symphony of groaning metal and shattering concrete, dust particles catching the red emergency light to create a hellish, swirling mist. 

Through the chaos, Y/N felt herself being swept aside, strong arms encircling her waist and pulling her clear of danger with superhuman speed. The world blurred momentarily, her senses overwhelmed by the scent of ozone and dust and something uniquely masculine—a combination of clean sweat and subtle cologne that she'd come to associate with safety despite everything.

When her vision cleared, she found herself pressed against Viltrumite Mark's chest, the pristine white of his suit now finally marred by dust and debris. The imperfection transformed the uniform from something untouchable to something real—humanizing him in ways that all his power never could. Flecks of concrete clung to the royal insignia, the imperfection somehow making him appear more human, more approachable than his usual perfection allowed.

"Are you harmed?" he asked, concern evident in the slight furrow of his brow as he scanned her for injuries. The question carried none of his usual command—just raw, unfiltered worry that stripped away centuries of royal conditioning. His arms around her were steel bands of protection, yet his touch remained gentle despite the strength she knew those limbs possessed. One hand moved to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair with a tenderness that contradicted his royal bearing.

The gentle pressure of his fingertips against her scalp sent subtle waves of comfort through her body, each small circle erasing another fragment of the chaos surrounding them. The gentle circles his thumb traced against her scalp sent electric currents down her spine, awareness blooming across her skin like wildfire. His eyes—so familiar yet distinct in their intensity—searched hers with unexpected vulnerability, as if her well-being mattered more than the chaos erupting around them, more than the multiverse itself.

"You could have been—" he started, then stopped, his tongue failing him at the mere thought of her injury. Instead, his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly in her hair, drawing her closer until their foreheads nearly touched.

Before Y/N could respond, a familiar voice called from overhead—amplified by GDA comm systems yet unmistakable in its conviction.

"This is Cecil Stedman of the Global Defense Agency. The facility is surrounded. Release Y/N immediately and surrender yourselves, or we will employ lethal force against all occupants."

Through the gaping hole in the ceiling, Y/N could see GDA operatives in tactical gear rappelling down on carbon-fiber lines, their movements precise and practiced. Like mechanical spiders descending on gossamer threads, they moved with synchronized precision that spoke of countless drills and absolute dedication to their mission. Their energy weapons hummed with charged particles, the air around their barrels wavering with heat distortion as they took aim at the variants below. Armored vehicles had surrounded the perimeter, their cannons already glowing with primed energy, bathing the crumbling structure in an eerie blue light that cut through the red emergency illumination, creating purple shadows in the corners where rubble had collected.

In the center of it all stood Cecil Stedman himself—diminutive yet commanding, his posture radiating authority despite his slight stature. His frame might have been small, but his presence filled the space with the weight of government authority and personal determination. The grim set of his mouth revealed everything about his determination. His hands clasped behind his back, he surveyed the scene below with clinical detachment, like a chess master contemplating his final, devastating move.

"Well," Sinister drawled, wiping blood from his split lip with the back of his hand. The crimson smear across his yellow glove. "This complicates matters."

Mohawk Mark's response was immediate and predictable—blue energy crackling around his clenched fists as his more volatile nature reasserted itself. The energy danced across his knuckles, illuminating the dried blood that no amount of washing seemed able to remove completely. His mohawk seemed to stand straighter with his anger, as if electrified by his rage.

"Let them come," he snarled, muscles coiling beneath his suit like springs wound too tight. Each tensed muscle created ripples beneath the fabric of his suit, the material straining to contain the raw, physical manifestation of his rage as his jaw clenched so tight that Y/N could almost hear his teeth grinding together. "I'll kill each one of them."

"No," Y/N said firmly, extracting herself from Viltrumite Mark's protective embrace, instantly feeling the chill of separation rush across her skin where his warmth had been moments before. She stood straight, shoulders back, finding strength she didn't know she possessed. 

"No more destruction. No more death."

She looked between the remaining variants, each face identical yet utterly unique in the emotions they displayed. Her chest tightened with the weight of what needed to be done. "You have to go. All of you. Now, before more people die because of us."

Viltrumite Mark's expression hardened, disdain replacing the concern that had softened his features moments before. A muscle twitched beneath his left eye—the only betrayal of emotion on his otherwise composed features.

"I will not abandon you to them," he stated, the words carrying the weight of royal decree. His voice dropped to a whisper only she could hear. "Not when I've only just found you."

"You must," Y/N insisted, reaching up to touch his face with gentle fingertips. The simple contact seemed to surprise him, his eyes widening fractionally at her boldness. His skin was warm beneath her touch, the slight stubble along his jaw creating a pleasant friction against her fingertips.

"In another life," she whispered, allowing her fingers to trace the strong line of his jaw, memorizing the texture of him, "perhaps we could have built your empire together." The confession cost her something, a possibility she was willingly sacrificing for what needed to be done. "Your world needs its emperor. And I..." She swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue past the lump forming in her throat. "I need to find out who I am without all of you defining me."

Something flickered across Viltrumite Mark's features—an emotion too complex to name, too brief to analyze. For the briefest moment, the mask of control slipped completely, revealing the raw core of a man who had lost everything once before and now stood to lose it again. 

For a moment, Y/N thought he might refuse, might choose violence over acceptance.

Then, with dignity that belied the turmoil evident in his eyes, he caught her hand in his, turning it to press a soft kiss against her palm. The touch of his lips was feather-light yet searing, branding her skin with a promise as his lips lingered, warm breath caressing her skin in a silent promise.

"As you wish," he said softly, the formal words somehow conveying depths of feeling his bearing wouldn't allow him to express directly.

Time seemed to slow as he gently placed her hand against his chest, allowing her to feel the strong, steady rhythm of his heart. "Know this," he murmured, his voice a caress against her senses. "In every universe, across all dimensions, some version of me will always find his way back to you."

With visible reluctance, he stepped back, turning toward Angstrom who hung suspended in the center of the room. "Open my portal. Send me home."

Angstrom focused his power as dimensional energy coalesced around his suspended form.  A portal began to take shape—edges defined and stable, swirling depths revealing glimpses of a world where Viltrumite banners flew from gleaming spires and the Imperial sigil adorned every surface.

Viltrumite Mark moved toward it with measured steps, imperial bearing intact despite the destruction raining down around them. At the portal's threshold, he paused, turning back to Y/N one final time. What passed between them in that moment needed no words—a connection beyond language, beyond the boundaries of separate dimensions.

Without warning, another explosion rocked the facility. The entire structure shuddered like a wounded beast, metal supports screaming in protest as concrete disintegrated around them. A massive support beam directly above the portal groaned ominously before giving way completely, crashing down through the swirling dimensional gateway. It fell in agonizing slow motion, its massive weight cleaving through the delicate energies of the portal like a blade through silk. The portal collapsed with a sound like glass shattering, emerald energy dissipating in crackling arcs across the rubble.

Viltrumite Mark stepped back just in time, narrowly avoiding being crushed. His reflexes saved him, body moving with fluid grace that somehow maintained dignity even in retreat. His usually composed features darkened with anger as he turned to Angstrom, covering the distance between them in a blur of movement.

"What happened?" he demanded, voice low and dangerous as his hand closed around Angstrom's throat.

"Not... my doing," Angstrom wheezed, eyes wide with genuine surprise. His body convulsed slightly as he struggled against Viltrumite Mark's grip, dimensional energy crackling erratically across his skin in response to his distress. "Structural... failure. The building... can't withstand... continued assault."

Y/N turned to Mohawk Mark with a sigh, her initial determination wavering in the face of their increasingly desperate situation. His explosive rage had dimmed to something quieter but no less intense. The blue accents of his suit seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, the glow reflecting in the unshed tears that made his eyes shine with dangerous brilliance.

"No," he growled, the single word containing multitudes of refusal. "Not again. I won't leave you again."

He closed the distance between them in three quick strides, his movements carrying the barely restrained energy of a predator. When he reached her, however, his touch was unexpectedly gentle as he cradled her face between calloused hands.

"These hands," he whispered, his rough fingertips ghosting along her cheekbones with reverent delicacy, "have broken so many things. Have hurt so many people." His voice cracked, "But with you, they remember how to be gentle."

"Listen to me," he said, voice rough with emotion. "In my world, I watched her die because she pushed me out of the way and took a bullet to the heart for me." His voice cracked, adam's apple bobbing violently as he swallowed back the memory. The muscles in his throat worked visibly against the tide of grief that threatened to drown his words. 

"Every night since then, I've heard her voice calling my name. Every fucking night." His thumbs traced the curve of her cheekbones with reverent tenderness that contradicted the harshness of his words. "I won't go back to that emptiness. I can't."

Above them, Cecil's voice rang out again. "This is your final warning. Surrender now or we open fire."

GDA operatives had fully descended into the chamber now, their weapons trained on the variants with deadly precision. The air crackled with tension and primed energy weapons, the situation balanced on a knife's edge of imminent violence.

"We can't stay here," Omni Mark observed quietly, his composed voice cutting through the chaos with remarkable clarity. He moved to stand beside Y/N, not touching her but close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "But perhaps..."

His gaze met hers, something thoughtful and hopeful glimmering behind his dark lenses. For a moment, the lenses seemed less like barriers and more like windows, allowing her a glimpse of the mind working behind them—analytical yet passionate, calculating yet kind. "Perhaps we don't all have to return to our original dimensions."

Sinister pushed away from the wall where he'd been observing, his yellow and black suit almost glowing in the emergency lighting. The distinctive colors seemed to absorb and reflect the chaos around them, transforming the emergency lighting into something almost festive on his frame. "What are you suggesting?" he asked, interest evident in the tilt of his head, the predatory alertness in his stance.

"A new universe," Y/N breathed, the idea forming in her mind even as Omni Mark nodded confirmation. The possibilities expanded in her consciousness like a blossoming flower, each petal a different potential future. "Somewhere none of you have been before. Somewhere we could..." She hesitated, hardly daring to voice the thought.

"Start again," Omni Mark finished for her, his usually controlled voice carrying an undercurrent of something that might have been hope. "Together."

Omni Mark moved closer to Y/N, his hand finding hers with unerring precision despite the chaos around them. His fingers intertwined with hers, the simple contact grounding yet electrifying. "No legacies to uphold," he murmured, his thumb tracing small circles against her palm. 

"No mistakes to atone for. No ghosts haunting our steps." His voice dropped lower, meant only for her despite the others' enhanced hearing. "Just us, discovering who we might become when we're free to choose."

The idea hung in the air between them, tantalizing in its simplicity yet revolutionary in its implications. A universe where they weren't defined by past failures, by tragedies that had shaped them into monsters. A universe where they could choose who they wanted to be.

"Angstrom," Mohawk Mark growled, turning toward their prisoner with renewed purpose. "Can you do it? Can you send us somewhere new?"

Angstrom's lips curved into a smile that held no warmth. "Anywhere in the multiverse," he confirmed, eyes gleaming with malicious amusement. "But the damage to reality remains. Each portal weakens the barriers between dimensions."

"Then we make this the last jump," Omni Mark decided, his quiet authority somehow more compelling than Cecil's amplified commands or Emperor's royal decrees had been. "One final portal to a dimension where we can begin again. After that, we ensure no more portals are opened." His gaze fixed on Angstrom with deadly intent. "Ever."

Another explosion rocked the facility, closer than the previous one. The shockwave rippled through the floor beneath their feet, concrete cracking in spider-web patterns that spread with alarming speed. Concrete dust rained down from what remained of the ceiling, coating their hair and shoulders in a fine gray powder that resembled premature aging.

"Decide quickly," Sinister urged, eyes fixed on the GDA operatives who were beginning to encircle them. "Our window of opportunity is closing."

Y/N looked between the three remaining variants—Mohawk with his barely contained emotions, Omni with his quiet strength, and Sinister with his dangerous allure. Each represented a different path, a different kind of future—passionate chaos, thoughtful stability, or dangerous excitement. In the shadows across the room, she noticed No-Mask Mark, Lensless Mark, and Phantom Mark quietly conferring, their expressions grave as they discussed their options.

"Who else stays?" she asked, voice stronger now, fed by the certainty growing within her,n"Who goes?"

Phantom Mark approached Y/N, his masked face turning to the corner where he had withdrawn. His movements were fluid and graceful despite the rigid material of his mask, body language conveying emotions his covered face couldn't express. He stood silently for a moment, form trembling slightly as he reached up to touch the edge of his mask. His gloved fingers traced the seam where mask met suit, hovering over the clasp that could reveal what lay beneath. Taking a deep breath that was audible even through the mask's filter, he looked back at the portal forming behind him, then shook his head decisively. 

"I've hidden behind this mask for so long," he said, voice distorted yet somehow more vulnerable through the filter. "In my world, hiding was the only way to survive after losing her." His hands fell to his sides, clenching briefly before relaxing. "But maybe in a new world, I can learn to show my face again. To feel the sun without this barrier between me and life."

He moved to stand beside Y/N, his presence solid and reassuring without making demands. Though his face remained hidden, something in his posture conveyed a quiet hope that spoke louder than words ever could. Something about his quiet resolve reminded her of Omni Mark, though his masked features made him more enigmatic, more difficult to read.

No-Mask Mark stepped forward, his unprotected face openly displaying the conflict within. Without the barrier of a mask, every emotion played across his features with startling clarity—grief, determination, and fragile hope battling for dominance. His eyes, identical to the others yet somehow uniquely pained, searched Y/N's face with a mixture of grief and determination.

"I'll stay too," he said, surprising even himself with the decision. The words emerged tentatively at first, then gained strength as he committed to them fully. "I've lost too much already. William..." He trailed off, swallowing hard. His eyes glazed with unshed tears at the name, the loss clearly still raw despite whatever time had passed. "Maybe this time, things can be different. Maybe this time, I can protect what matters."

Lensless Mark bounced on his toes, childlike energy barely contained despite the gravity of the situation. His movements were perpetual, fingers drumming against his thighs, weight shifting from foot to foot—a physical manifestation of his inability to remain still even in crisis. "I'm staying too!" he declared, grinning despite the dried blood flaking from his knuckles. His smile transformed his entire face, erasing the shadow of the killer he had become. "Always wanted a big family anyway."

Above them, Cecil's patience had clearly run out. "Fire warning shots," his voice commanded, followed immediately by the high-pitched whine of energy weapons discharging.

Beams of concentrated energy sliced through the air around them, deliberately missing but close enough to feel the heat against exposed skin. The air crackled and sizzled where the energy passed, leaving behind the acrid scent of ionized particles and the lingering taste of ozone. The message was clear: the next volley wouldn't be a warning.

"Now or never," Mohawk growled, positioning himself protectively between Y/N and the GDA forces. 

Y/N turned to Angstrom, determination hardening her resolve. Something shifted in her stance, in her expression.  "Do it. Open a portal to somewhere new. Somewhere safe."

Angstrom focused his power, dimensional energy gathering around him like a storm. The air around him began to distort, reality itself bending and warping as emerald light crackled across his suspended form in increasingly complex patterns. 

"As you wish," he wheezed, blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth as he concentrated. "One last journey."

A portal began to form—larger than the previous ones, its edges shimmering with untapped potential. Unlike the violent tears they had witnessed before, this portal coalesced with almost musical precision, emerald energy flowing like liquid light to create a perfect circular gateway. 

Through its swirling depths, Y/N caught glimpses of a world bathed in golden sunlight. Rolling hills covered in lush vegetation stretched toward a horizon where twin moons hung in the sky, their pale surfaces visible even in daylight. A massive structure stood in the middle distance—part castle, part modern fortress, its architecture unlike anything on Earth yet somehow reminiscent of home.

"Perfect," Sinister murmured, appreciation evident in his tone. "Uninhabited but hospitable. No indigenous sentient species to complicate matters."

"How can you tell all that from just a glimpse?" Y/N asked, momentarily distracted by his apparent knowledge.

Sinister's smirk was all teeth and dangerous charm. "I've destroyed thousands of worlds, dove. You learn to assess a planet quickly." He winked, the gesture somehow making the casual mention of genocide even more disturbing. "Useful skill for picking vacation spots too."

Another barrage of energy blasts cut through the air, this one closer than the last. The heat from the blasts washed over them in uncomfortable waves, leaving skin tingling and hairs standing on end. The GDA was done with warnings.

"Go!" Omni Mark urged, his hand finding the small of Y/N's back—not pushing, just guiding, always respecting her autonomy even in crisis. The warmth of his palm radiated through the material of her flight suit, gentle yet urgent. "I'll ensure Angstrom follows and seal the doorway behind us."

Mohawk didn't wait for further discussion. With a feral grin that promised violence to anyone who tried to stop them, he swept Y/N into his arms and leaped toward the portal. His movements were fluid and powerful, muscles bunching beneath her as he carried her weight with effortless strength. Just before they passed through, he paused, looking down at her with unexpected vulnerability.

"Together?" he asked, the single word carrying the weight of promise and question and hope all at once. 

Y/N's hand came up to rest against his cheek, thumb tracing the strong line of his jaw. His skin was warm beneath her touch, the slight stubble creating a pleasant friction against the pad of her thumb. "Together," she confirmed, something warm unfurling in her chest at the brilliant smile that transformed his usually fierce expression.

The smile that broke across his features was transformative—years of rage and anguish momentarily washed away, revealing glimpses of who he might have been before tragedy shaped him into a weapon. In that unguarded moment, Y/N saw not the killer he had become but the hero he might yet be.

Then they were through, the world dissolving around them in a kaleidoscope of color and sensation. Reality itself seemed to stretch and compress simultaneously, conventional physics surrendering to the impossible mathematics of multidimensional travel. 

Y/N felt Mohawk's arms tighten protectively around her as reality itself seemed to stretch and compress simultaneously, the experience both terrifying and exhilarating.

When solid ground reformed beneath them, they stood on a grassy knoll overlooking a valley bathed in golden light. The ground beneath their feet felt somehow more vibrant than Earth's soil—as if the very molecules contained more energy, more potential. The air tasted sweeter than Earth's, with subtle notes of unfamiliar blossoms and mineral-rich soil. Each breath filled her lungs with intoxicating freshness, oxygen seemingly more potent, more invigorating than what she was accustomed to. The twin moons hung in the sky like watchful guardians, their surfaces etched with patterns different from Luna's familiar face.

One by one, the others followed—Phantom Mark stepping through with characteristic grace, No-Mask arriving with quiet determination in his unprotected features, Lensless bouncing through with childlike enthusiasm, Sinister sauntering through as if dimensional travel was nothing more extraordinary than crossing a street. Last came Omni Mark, dragging a semi-conscious Angstrom with him.

"It's done," Omni Mark stated, releasing Angstrom who collapsed to the grass with a pained groan. He dusted his hands off, "The portal is sealed. No one can follow."

Y/N stood in the circle of these men—these variations of Mark Grayson who had turned their grief into rage and their rage into destruction. Men who had crossed dimensions to find her, who had chosen to stay with her despite the cost. Men who now looked at her not as a replacement for someone lost but as herself—flawed, confused, but ultimately her own person.

"What now?" she asked, the question encompassing far more than their immediate future.

Omni Mark stepped forward, removing his dark lenses to reveal eyes filled with quiet determination. Without the barrier of tinted glass, his blue eye gaze was startlingly direct—intelligent, perceptive, and unexpectedly gentle. "Now we build something new," he said simply, offering his hand to her—not demanding, just inviting.

"Not an empire," he continued, his gaze briefly flicking toward Viltrumite Mark with understanding rather than judgment. 

"Not a fortress," another glance toward Mohawk. 

"Just... a life. Together."

When she took it, his fingers closed gently around hers, the touch grounding and elevating her simultaneously. His skin was warm against hers, with his free hand, he gestured toward the fortress in the distance. "There's our new home. A place where we can be whoever we choose to be."

"A fresh start," Phantom added, his masked face tilted toward the twin moons as if contemplating their significance. The alien light reflected off his mask, creating patterns that seemed to dance across the surface like living things.

"A family," Lensless contributed, already bouncing on his toes with excitement at exploring their new world. His energy was infectious, bringing a lightness to the moment that balanced the gravity of their decision.

"A kingdom," came Sinister's smooth addition, his yellow and black suit glowing almost gold in the alien sunlight. 

"No," Mohawk corrected, his usual aggression softened by something more tender as he gazed at Y/N. The permanent furrow between his brows eased slightly, aggressive posture relaxing into something that better matched the gentleness in his voice. "A home. Just a home."

Y/N looked between them—these men from across the multiverse, each bearing the face of Mark Grayson yet transformed by circumstance and choice into something distinctly other. Men who had been monsters but might choose to be more. Men who had lost her once and found her again.

"A choice," she whispered, understanding blooming inside her chest like a flower seeking sunshine.

"For all of us." Her gaze traveled between them, seeing not just what they had been but what they might become. "Not versions of the same person, but individuals with the freedom to grow in different directions."

As the alien sun began its descent toward an unfamiliar horizon, casting their shadows long across virgin soil, Y/N felt something unfurl within her chest—not quite peace, not quite certainty, but perhaps the beginning of both. Whatever came next, whatever they built in this new world, it would be their choice—not fate, not destiny, not cosmic constants.

Just choice.

And for now, that was enough.

–––––––––

Wow, I can't believe it's over... !!UNLESS!! ☆ If y'all want separate individual chapters dedicated to the Marks in their new universe with Y/n :) Fluff Ansgt Smut you name it (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

Following Fluff/Smut series!! 𝙰𝚣𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚜

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Tw: parent abandoning their child, fluff, angst

Series masterlist

The afternoon sun filtered through the living room window and cast a swath of gold over Noah's house. You were sitting crossed-legged on the couch, watching Luna play silently, her small hands precisely set her favorite toys in a small, neat row, where Mr. Flop, her favorite bunny, had proudly taken the central point, guiding whatever game was in her head.

You smiled at her concentration, something warm blooming in your chest.

She was a perfect blend of Noah's features, a mirror image of him in her own way. She had his warm, deep brown eyes with his same subtle almond shape, dark hair, with a way chubbier face.

Noah leaned against the counter in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. Some brown locks fell over his eyes as they darted between you and his daughter in quiet contemplation and hesitation.

You could tell something was on his mind. It had been incredible between you and Noah in the past few months, but there was one part of his life he'd held carefully at arm's length: Luna.

That wasn't because he didn't trust you, you knew that. It was deeper than that, more complicated. He was protective of her in a way hard to explain unless you knew the full story, which he had only recently begun sharing with you.

It had been late one night, just the two of you curled up on his couch after Luna had gone to bed, when Noah first opened up about the relationship with his ex. In the beginning, it had been passionate-whirlwind-type love, felt like the kind that could move mountains.

But once Luna was born, everything shifted. She was never ready for the reality of being a mother, and slowly but surely, it dawned on him that with each passing day, she actually resented it. Noah tried to understand her, tried to support her in whatever way he could, but nothing seemed to help. The more he tried, the more she pulled away.

One night, Noah had come home to an empty house. No note, no explanation, just Luna, not even a year old yet, lying in her crib, and complete silence in every room. His ex was gone, had walked out on both of them, and though Noah tried to reach out, tried to get her to come back, she never did.

From that moment on, he'd vowed to protect Luna from anything or anyone that might hurt her. Or perhaps that was his way to protect himself, too.

You both were up late, the only sound in his living room coming from a small lamp in the corner of the room, its dim light.

Noah was sitting next to you on the couch, his back hunched and his elbows to his knees as he stared into the floor for thought collection. You knew he had been carrying something heavy in his head for quite some time.

"I never thought that I'd ever be a single parent," he said gruffly, as though the words hurt him to utter. "But then again, after what happened …I don't really see my life in any other way anymore. She is everything to me."

He stopped, rubbing a hand over his face, and in those eyes you could almost see his tiredness, not physical, but an emotional toll, when one carries so much on his shoulders alone. You said nothing, just let him work through the words at his own pace. You could feel his vulnerability hang between you like some fragile thing he was just willing to show you.

"I didn't have time to process what happened," Noah whispered. "One day I'm in this relationship and we're trying to make it work for Luna, and the next… she's gone. Just like that. I came home and she'd left. No explanation. No good-bye."

Your heart ached with the pain in his tone, even now raw with emotion.

“I didn’t know what the hell I was doing,”, he admitted, shaking his head. Just like that, it was him and Luna against the world.

"I was fucking terrified" he said, the corner of his lip curling up in a self-deprecating smile. "I had to figure out how to be a dad by myself, how to balance that with the band, how to be there for her when I was barely holding it together myself."

He glanced up at you then, his eyes warm with appreciation and a little fear. "She's the reason I'm so careful, you know? With relationships, with people in general. I don't ever want to bring someone into her life unless I am really sure."

He paused, his throat swallowing hard as his eyes drop once again to the floor. You could tell there was more he wanted to say, but it was hard for him to speak.

"I'm scared that…," he started, then had to force himself to continue, his voice faltering. "I'm scared that you're mad at me. Or disappointed, maybe. That I'm taking things too slow with you. That I haven't fully… let you in yet. It's not because I don't care about you, because I do. A lot. It's just—"

"Noah," you said softly, leaning in closer to him. "I'm not mad. I'm not disappointed. I get it, why you want to be careful. It's okay."

His eyes finally met yours, surprise flickering in them. He had been so consumed by his fear of messing things up that it hadn't occurred to him you might actually understand where he was coming from.

"You've been through much," you went on, your voice soft but clear. "And I get why you'd want to protect Luna. I'd be more concerned if you were being anything less than careful, honestly. It says how much you love her, and how much you want to do right by her. And I respect that, Noah. I'm not going anywhere."

He blinked, like he was trying to absorb what you were saying, his shoulders loosening as your words soaked in. You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. His hand closed around yours, clasping at it like he was holding onto something solid for the first time in a long while.

"I can wait," you said with an even voice. "You need more time, I'm waiting. I do care for you, for both of you. And I don't want to make anything if you are not ready yet. What matters to me is that we're moving forward, even if it's slow."

Noah's breath slightly caught, emotion swelling up in his eyes as he continued to carry that weight for such a long time, terrified that by taking things slow, he was pushing you away, when all you wanted was to meet him where he was.

"I don't know how to do that," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I've been so scared of screwing this up, of screwing us up. But you… you've just been there."

You smiled softly and squeezed his hand. "You've been hurt, Noah. And it takes time to heal from that. I'm not here to hurry you or push you into something that you're not ready for. I am here because I care about you. And I care about Luna. I want you only to know that I'm in this for the long haul whenever you're ready."

He breathed shakily, his forehead leaning forward to rest against yours while his hand remained tightly wrapped around yours. You could feel the tension start to seep from him, replaced by a silent sort of relief that he didn't have to bear the burden of his fears alone anymore.

"Thank you." he whispered, his voice full of gratitude. "For understanding. For being… you."

You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, silently communicating that he had nothing to thank you for, that this was where you wished to be.

You saw Noah in all his completeness: a good father, a man who had been wounded but kept trying, learning how to trust once more. You were more than ready to wait for him to fully open up that part of his heart.

You sat in that silence, the weight of the past there still, yet lighter now. You knew Noah still had a really long way to go before letting go of all the pain he had been carrying with him, but you knew he was on his way. You would be here every step of the way, to build something real, something lasting, with him and with Luna.

Now, months after you and Noah had started dating, you were sitting in the middle of that guarded space he had created around her.

Now you knew why he was being so careful, why he had not pushed for more interaction between you and Luna.

She meant the world to him, and after all she had been through, he would never risk anything that could disrupt her life. But still, you waited. You had cared for Noah, and by that extension already cared for Luna, too. So you gave him the time he needed to let you in.

Today, though, there was something different in the air, something to let you know Noah was about to take a step forward.

"Hey," Noah finally said, breaking the comfortable silence that had overcome the room. He set his coffee cup down and rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous quirk you'd come to know well. "Can I ask you a favor?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Of course. What's up?"

He turned to Luna, still deep in her toys, and back to you again. He paused a beat, you basically saw the cogs turning as he picked his words with all care.

"The band's got a thing later today, just some planning stuff for the new album. I was supposed to go meet the guys, but…" He trailed off, gesturing toward Luna with a helpless look. "Usually, I ask one of them, but they are all busy today."

You chuckled softly at that, imagining Luna in the hands of Noah’s bandmates. As much as they loved her, you knew they weren’t exactly all equipped for child care even if you were sure they all deeply cared about her.

"So… you want me to stay with her?"

Noah nodded, his expression softening as he met your gaze. "Yeah. If you're okay with it. I mean, I know it's last minute and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, but—"

"Noah," you interrupted softly, standing up and walking over to him. You reached out, resting your hand on his arm. "It's okay. I'd love to stay with her."

He exhaled, the relief washing over his features, but there was still that damned hesitation in his eyes. You knew how big of a deal this was for him, trusting someone with Luna, especially after everything he'd been through.

"Are you sure?" he asked more quietly now. "I mean, she's really shy, with most people and with you too, and I don't want any of you to feel uncomfortable."

You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss against his cheek. "I'll be fine. We'll be fine. She just needs time, that's all. And I think she got her shyness from her dad."

Noah closed his eyes for a second, his head slightly leaned into your touch before pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead. When he pulled back, his eyes were different, warm and a deep well of silent appreciation.

"Thank you," he whispered. "This… this means so much."

Now, you were sitting on the floor, after Noah had gone off to his band meeting. At first, Luna had been quiet, keeping to herself to play with her toys, but bit by bit, she'd started to warm up toward you, like you'd wanted.

You leaned forward for Mr. Flop, the stuffed bunny, and held him out to her with a playing grin. "You think Mr. Flop needs some tea?"

Luna's eyes sparkled, a shy smile overspreading her face as she nodded vigorously. "Yes! He is very thirsty."

You laughed softly, watching her scurry over to her tiny plastic tea set. She first poured an imaginary cup of tea for Mr. Flop and then one for you. As she handed you the pretend tea, your heart swelled with affection for this little girl who was letting you into her world slowly, piece by piece.

"Thanks, Luna," he said, making a big show of taking a sip. "This is the best tea I've ever had."

She giggled, her cheeks blushing with pride. For several moments, the two of you played in comfortable silence, with her showing you through the rules of the tea party.

"You think Mr. Flop would like to go on an adventure?" you asked after some time, breaking the silence as Luna finished pouring more imaginary tea.

With eyes aglow with excitement, she said, "Yes! He loves adventures!"

"Okay, where shall we go?" you asked, leaning in conspiratorially.

Luna tapped her chin, and then a huge grin spread over her face. "The jungle! I love jungle! Dad loves jungle too! We have to find the lost treasure!"

You gasped melodramatically. "The jungle? Wait. Noah made you listen...nevermind. That does sound dangerous! You think we can make it?"

She laughed again, her head bobbing up and down quickly. "We can do it! Mr. Flop is very brave."

And then you both launched into your make-believe jungle adventure. The shyness had left Luna by now, replaced by a bubbly, fearless energy that took your heart soaring.

The front door creaked open a couple of hours later when Noah returned home, but you didn't notice him first, too caught up in the game with Luna sitting next to you on the floor.

Noah stood in the doorway, watching the both of you, and his heart swelled in his chest. He had always known you were special, knew from the moment he met you that there was something different about you, but seeing you now, playing with Luna, made him feel something he hadn't felt in years.

Love, not just for you, but for the idea of you becoming a part of him and Luna's lives in a deeper way.

When you finally saw him standing there, you smiled. "Hey, you're back!" you said. Noah nodded, stepping closer, his eyes soft. "Yeah, I'm back."

Luna ran to him and wrapped her arms around his legs as he scooped her up, holding her close to his chest for a moment before turning back to you. "You two seemed to have fun."

Noah had Luna in his arms, babbly excitedly about some "jungle adventure" and lost treasure. He listened intently, though his eyes never left you. There was something there in his gaze, something so raw and deep, that made your heart go racing. It wasn't the usual softness, the usual affection, it was heavier, like something nestled between you when nothing was said.

"We did," you said, smiling at Luna as she continued her excited recount of the day. "We found the lost treasure, and Mr. Flop was the hero of the day."

Luna giggled, snuggling into Noah's chest as she added her own details. "We were very brave, Daddy! Mr. Flop was so good at being quiet, and we didn't get eaten!"

Noah chuckled, brushing a hand through her hair as he kissed her forehead. "Sounds like you had quite the adventure."

"Yes! We had a lot of fun. And your friend is amazing. I want to play with her again. I think she is my friend too now."

Noah smiled, his brown eyes full of affection for the both of you. "I'm glad you made a new friend. We'll ask her again, okay?"

Luna nodded, her eyelids drooping as the excitement of the day finally started to catch up with her and she rested her head against the soft fabric of his dad's hoodie. Noah glanced at you over her head, a soft smile tugging at his lips once again.

"Would you like to help me get her ready for bed?" he whispered, and with Luna nuzzling her head into the crook of his shoulder, half-asleep.

You nodded, and your heart fluttered with the thought. This felt like some sort of minor but meaningful step in being included in the nighttime routine, part of something as personal and intimate as this.

All three went into Luna's room together. It was not a big room, but it was cozy with soft toys, bookshelves, and a little carpet that glittered from strings of tiny fairy lights.

Noah was soon to gently lay Luna down into her bed, and you sat down beside him, watching as he tucked her in, his hands moving with the sort of practiced ease that came from more than two years of being a single parent. You leaned over, setting Mr. Flop down beside Luna, who smiled sleepily as she cuddled the bunny close.

Noah leaned over her, placing a gentle kiss against her forehead with tenderness that would ache your chest. "Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered into her hair. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

"Goodnight, daddy," she muttered the tone in her voice drowsy. Then her tiny eyes flickered open just enough to glance at you. "Goodnight Y/N."

You smiled warmly, your heart swelling in the simplest of words. "Goodnight, Luna."

After several minutes of quiet whispers and soothing reassurances, she fell asleep, her breathing evening into the quiet rhythm of her sleep. Noah leaned forward and pressed another soft kiss to her forehead before he eased himself up, motioning you to follow him from the room.

As the door is shut quietly behind you, he let out a very, very long breath, running his hand through his hair, leaning against the wall.

"Thanks," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "For sticking with her. For being so… incredible with her."

You shrugged. "She's a pretty amazing kid. It wasn't hard."

Noah turned fully toward you now, his eyes searching yours with a sort of intensity that hitched your breath. His hand rose and delicately swept a strand of hair back behind your ear, where it lingered on the side of your face. His thumb tracing the line of your jaw sent you leaning into his touch, your heart beating with each passed second a little faster.

"I never knew whether I would find anybody that could fit in this part of my life," he whispered, his voice not a decibel over a whisper. "With Luna, after what happened… I felt I needed to keep her world small, you know? Keep it safe. I didn't want to bring someone in that might hurt her."

His eyes welled with that same vulnerability you had seen before, and you knew how hard this was for him, to open up, to let you into this part of his life he had guarded so much.

"You don't have to worry about that," you said softly, laying your hand over his. "I would never hurt her. Or you."

Noe's thumb stroked over your cheek, his eyes sealing to yours in an tight seriousness, as if you were the only person existing. "I know. That's why I love you."

The words hung between you and him, heavy with tension. You couldn't breathe for a second, heart pounding in your chest as you tried processing what he just said. He loved you.

You hadn't expected it, not so soon, not in that moment, but the way he looked at you, the way he had been with Luna, it made sense. It wasn't just the two of them anymore; it was all three, the small family that had formed.

A soft smile overspreads your face as you looked up at him, your hand clenching a little tighter around his. "I love you too, Noah."

The relief in his expression was genuine, and for him at least, it was as though the weight had finally been pulled off his shoulders. He pulled you into his arms, and you wrapped yours around him, holding close as he buried his face in your hair, breathing you in like he couldn’t believe you were real.

And for a long time, neither of them said anything. They only stood there with each other, wrapped in their own warmth, and the silence just told it all.

Then Noah leaned back, just a little, just enough to look down at you. And then his eyes were deeper and surer.

"I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't met you," he whispered huskily. "I don't think I even knew how much I needed someone like you, not just for me but for Luna, too."

You reached up and brushed a thumb over his cheek. "You're an amazing dad, Noah. You've done everything right for her. But you don't have to do it alone anymore."

He closed his eyes, like almost to let your words sink in. Opening them a second later, there was something soft, something vulnerable, that made you want to pull him closer still.

"I don't want to do it alone anymore," he whispered with his forehead against yours. "I want this. Us. You and me, and Luna. I want a family."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you nodded, your voice barely louder than a whisper. "Me too."

Noah's arms tugged closer, his lips finding yours in a gentle unhurried kiss that felt almost like a vow, like a start, the type of kiss that spoke of love, of trust, of a future that finally was starting to feel real.

He drew back and his eyes shone bright now with a happiness in them that hadn't been there before. He reached down, took your hand in his, and guided you back onto the couch. You sat together in the quiet glow of the livingroom.

You knew you would have one of those movie nights where you definitely fall asleep in his arms on the couch.

Noah for once in a long while felt something he hadn't dared to believe in, peace. Peace in knowing that he didn't have to protect himself and Luna anymore. Peace in knowing he was finally able to let you in, fully without any fear.

You sat there, his arm around you, knowing this was only the beginning of something beautiful: a life no more his or yours, but one which both of you had started building together.

hello friends in my phone! would you like more parts of this? (｡◕‿◕｡)

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @mathfairchild1 @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme

TBAF Tags: @aubrey-melinoe

[reverie-starlight]

megumi loves…

a collection of things megumi loves about you.

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. so sweet it’ll make your teeth rot tbh. he won the poll so here’s the fic as promised!! literally wrote this on the bus and train rides this morning after having this planned for weeks. I literally love him sm he is everything to me <3

megumi loves when you play with his hair. the feel of your nails running along his scalp, playing with the nape of his neck- it’s calming. you do it most often when you’re both in his bed, cuddling after a mission or a long day of training. he’ll flop down on top of you, plant his head on your chest and sigh. he waits for you to do something, drawing the sweetest sound he’s ever heard from your lips (a laugh) as he glares up at you when you don’t move your hands. you’ll mumble out a soft “aw I’m sorry, baby,” before giving him exactly what he wants. he’ll press tender kisses to any patch of skin he can reach in thanks. you’d never make him ask twice because you know he truly appreciates this time spent with you and you’d never want him to shy away from you. you’re each other’s safe space after all, who would you be to deny him?

sometimes you’ll do it in public, too, but far less often. these are the times that you just can’t hold back- he’s so cute, why would you? he grumbles about it a bit, especially if you’re around people you know (he’s shy, after all), but can he really complain when you look at him so softly as you play with his dark locks? he’ll endure the teasing and reassure you that he’s fine with it if you start to pull away.

megumi loves running his fingers along your facial features. over the bridge of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, tracing your lips… he just loves your facial structure. it sounds like an odd compliment to give someone, especially if it’s the first compliment you give someone (and in his case, it was the first compliment he managed to stutter out after you offhandedly called him pretty when you were in the transition stage from friends to lovers), but he’s thankful that you seem to find it sweet.

he loves your face when you’re awake, so full of life and excitement that he can’t help but match when you’re both alone in the comfort of each other. the pretty smiles you’ll give him make his heart pump just a bit faster, the lovesick in your eyes after he kisses you… he wouldn’t trade it for the world. he’d do anything to keep you happy.

he loves your face when you’re asleep, too. especially after you’ve had a rough day. you look so serene and peaceful. even if you do drool or think you’re less than flattering, he always thinks you’re the most stunning thing ever. he loves when you scrunch your nose in your sleep, and he always places a hand on your cheek to smooth it out. he adores the look on your face as you slowly wake up and blink at him before cuddling into him further and sighing as you fall back asleep.

megumi loves when you get a bit clingy. everyone is a bit surprised when they see how all over each other the two of you can be (at least, as much as he is willing to show in public- which isn’t much, but for everyone else it’s huge) he loves it when you can’t help but wrap your arms around him because you missed him (you probably saw him less than an hour ago).

he adores the way you refuse to let him get out of bed on weekends, insisting that you need your fix of “never-ending affection” from him before can start his day. and he loves giving it to you. he’ll start with peppering quick kisses all over your face, smiling against your skin when you giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, not at all tempted to squirm away, but rather to pull him in for more.

he’ll be convinced to lay with you for a bit longer, of course, and do it without complaining. because at the end of the day, he loves to feel needed by you. he likes having you close to him more than he hates getting teased by his friends and gojo for being all soft.

believe it or not, he enjoys it when you initiate play fights with him. neither of you go all out- you do that enough on missions- so it’s just the two of you rolling around in bed, laughing and pinning the other down. he’ll pick you up and throw you back down, he’ll summon his demon dog to jump all over you so he can have the upper hand, just to keep you smiling. he knows physical affection is important to you, so why would he deny you of that? he never wants to make you feel like you’re not getting what you need from him.

megumi loves when you tease him. this surprises even him to this day, because he doesn’t like the feeling of getting worked up at all. but his working theory is that he enjoys the intimacy of it. you don’t tease him about every little thing, you know he doesn’t like that, but you do tease him about things hyper-specific to your relationship. for example: that one time he messed up the pronunciation of that word in an argument? you never let him live it down, but you’ll also never disclose the inside joke to anyone else. you might be a nuisance on purpose, but you’re also his number one defender when it comes to anyone else teasing him.

you also like to fluster him. poking him all over when you want attention, blowing air into his face when he leans in to kiss you… it’s all so fun for you. you’ll get close enough to his face to make him blush, you’ll tease that spot on the back of his neck that he’s never told anyone but you about, and he hates how easily you get to him, but he’ll tolerate it because he knows you’re just as easy to fluster as he is.

he loves to tease you back. as soon as you’re back in your room after a full day of not letting up on him, he’s got his arms wrapped around you, and he’s walking you backwards until your laying on the bed, staring up at him wearily… and then you’re screaming because his skilled hands are all over your sides, your ribs and your hips. and once you’re spent, he’ll lean in close to your ear and whisper his own teasing remarks (normally compliments he knows you’d have trouble accepting otherwise) to get you whining and mumbling out laughter-filled apologies he won’t be accepting any time soon.

yeah, megumi just loves you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed!!! it’s a different format from my other fics so lmk if you’d want this with any other characters!!

[who-can-touch-my-boob]

<- love and deepspace masterlist

AN: angsty and a hurt/comfort drabble. Sorry just had to get this out of my system.

-

Imagine this, you’re sitting in Sylus’ living room, waiting and waiting. He’s been gone for hours, much longer than he’d told you. You’re anxious, finger tapping on your knee, eyes glancing over at the door as if he’s magically appear.

And then finally, he does. However despite him looking like he usually does after one of his cryptic “work” where he’s covered in blood, Sylus doesn’t have that same aloof expression.

The man who’s always so calm and collected, rarely fazed or shows emotions other than the tender smiles that’s exclusively for you, he is now looking utterly broken down.

His sharp features twisted into what you can only describe as agony.

You don’t say anything, instead you move as quickly as you can, just in time to catch him as he falls down on his knees. Slowly you ease yourself down, grabbing his shoulder and pull him into a tight hug.

Sylus buries his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath hitching and his heart’s pounding so loud you can feel it against your own chest.

You’re too stunned and worried to speak, all you do is hug him tighter. Your hand gently rub his back as you coo softly, letting him know you’re here.

Something’s dampening your skin, warm droplets of tears that trickles down his cheeks and on you. His breath hitches again, he’s trying to speak but it’s as if the words are stuck.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” You murmur softly, placing a kiss on his temple.

After a long and heavy silence apart from Sylus’ muffled sobs, he slowly pulls back, just enough for your faces to be only centimetres apart.

With a tender hand you cup his face, the other brushing away the hair from his forehead, silently examining him for any injuries. You’re relieved to find out he’s not wounded, atleast not physically.

Sylus leans into your palm, nuzzling his before placing a small kiss. His eyelashes are sticking together from the tears he just shed, but it seems he’s managed to control his emotions.

“I… did something horrible.” He whispers, voice barely audible and hoarse. His red eyes flickers up to meet yours before looking away in shame.

You frown, studying his features to try and understand what had happened to make him this distraught. Sylus has done a lot of bad things, but he always walked out of the situations with a calm and relaxed demeanour.

“What did you do?” You ask him, but your voice is hesitant, almost scared of what he’s about to say next.

Sylus takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before slowly lifting his gaze, his eyes filled with emotions.

“Amidst all the… exchange of firearm, a…”

He pauses, voice rough and shaky. He takes another deep breath before continuing.

“A small girl got caught in the middle of it. For once in my life, something happened that I had not anticipated.”

Your eyes widens, realising where this is going. Sylus can see it clearly and it’s breaking his heart imagining how you’ll just leave him. That this was the breaking point, that you’ll never want to see him again.

However Sylus is an honest man, he would never lie to you, so he clears his throat softly and use all his strength to finish.

“She was no older than eight years old… And my bullet was the one to. I killed her.”

He looks at his hand, covered in blood and dirt, but what catches your attention is the keychain with a small cat plushie.

“I didn’t meant to… I would never, not a child. Please, believe me.”

Sylus start rambling, the fear of being abandoned now by you, the guilt heavy for what he’d done, the small blood covered keychain that had not long ago had its home in a little girl’s pocket.

You see it, the way he’s digging himself deeper and tears wells up in your eyes at the sight before you.

“Sylus,”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling in once more and you can feel how much he’s trembling.

“I believe you. I know you. You would never do such a thing. I’m here and I won’t leave you.”

Your voice is firm, yet affectionate as you hug him tighter.

Neither of you say anything after that, and you remain sitting on your knees for a long time. Not until Sylus finally calms down and speaks more do you release him from your embrace.

“Whatever did a monster like me do to deserve an angel like you?”

You flash him a smile and shake your head before kissing his cheek. Seeing his usual playfulness somewhat returned you hope to lighten up the mood.

“You can thank this angel after helping you bathe.”

As you both get up on your feet, Sylus glances down at the small cat plushie attached to the keychain and with a gentle smile looks at you as you guide him to the bathroom.

“Can this little kitten also get a bath? I want to change out my old keychain.”

[the-tarot-witch22]

Physical Appearance of your future spouse! - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta

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Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1 :

(Knight of pentacles, the moon, 3 of wands and 5 of pentacles)

Okay so the very first thing i felt from this card you future spouse seems very masculine like their features and overall vibe of their look seems so manly, or it can be you who prefers very masculine man, this pile's energy seems so mysterious and private, your future seems like someone who is quite private or mysterious when it comes to their personal relationships or affairs they are not very open with every people they meet, their gaze seems so sharp like if he looks at you for more than few seconds you will just look away, the dressing sense could be like comfortable wear or formal wear, like oversized hoodie or sweater or under a shirt, trousers below, i see lots of brown and colors that are quiet darker in shade, with contrasting white or off white, their eye colors could be (blue/green/brown), eyes could be foxy or smaller in shape, there could also be a dimple and it could be you guys too, he might like to wear rings, their hands seems veiny and bigger in size , long fingers, height is above than 5'10, they might also keep a beard, skin color could dark tan to fair/ pale, they seems foreign than you or could unusual type, as might their eyes are intense it also seems that there is some vulnerability inside them. Their build seems toned or athletic but not many abs, they could also have muscles, his biceps would be big, lol they seems to tell me just to say that, for some of you i see lean physique for your future spouse, they might also like to go to gym. Or keep their health in check. They might also exclude that rich vibe, their perfume could also be very unique! Their hairs could be black/brownish shade but wavy! Their lips seems fuller.

Okay that was all for pile 1! Your fs seems to be very attractive honestly, good for you guys!

Pile 2 :

(The hierophant, page of pentacles, ace of swords and the magician)

Okay so the very first thing i feel for you guys that your future spouse seems like a nerd hehe, like with glasses and who seems to have knowledge of everything and definitely do, they might wear glasses too, they could also be a gamer or like to play games in their free time, their face is structured not that defined jawline but definitely there, their hair seems thick and luscious, and big almond eyes, with long eye lashes, their could be thin or medium pouty, heart shaped lips ifykwim, their eye color could be hazel, brown, black, or bluish/green, they might like blue color a lot because i see lots of blue color, prominent chin and nose, long nose, but won't look weird, it matches with their face structure, the hair length could be long and they might wear it in bun or medium length, their build seems big i am channeling the song "big boy by sza", they seems to like a smarty pants, they might even be in touch with their feminine side, for some of you, your fs seems soft, their is something soft about them , like baby features could look younger then they are, their teeth are definitely very white, their voice seems to be deep or very unique, for some of you it seems like a high pitched voice too, or it could be you, they seem to be quiet spiritual or religious, i also feel they might like to go to church or believe in god or upper power? but anyways, height is average to tall 5'9"-5'12". They seem to have a unique charm about their appearance. Their face could be oval or square too. For some of you your fs could have a athletic or sleeper build. They or you might have had self image issues in past, or some of you still feel that, but i feel you and your fs is working on that part. I feel there might have been someone in your life that has made them feel like that or you. (this may or may not resonate with you) , this message wasn't for everybody but i wrote what i channeled. Their skin could be brown/white/dark. They are attractive in their own way.

Okay that's all for pile 2! They seems quite cute yet smart~ love that for you guys! and remember you guys are beauiful!

Pile 3:

(king of wands, the lovers, 8 of wands, 8 of cups, and the devil)

Okay so the very first thing i hear for you guys is your future spouse is very sexually appealing and attractive, and they know they are sexy, when they walk in a room you can feel their presence, the aura is very confident, they seem to be very confident in themselves, very good looking honestly, their eyes are intense and beautiful, like someone could lose themselves in their eyes, they even might seem intimidating to you because of their physical appearance, their dressing sense is also very good, they seem very fashionable or has unique taste, they also seems to turn heads while they walk in a certain room, or people talk about their good looks, their masculine and feminine energy is very balanced, they are tall possibly 5'11"-6'0" or could also be above, if not i feel 5'8 or 5'9 their height that is, they might also seem like a Greek god or that type of attractiveness, their jaw is structured or has and defined jawline, they keep their hairs short and styled in a slick style for some of them they might also use gel, their face is very proportionate, very sharp nose or straight nose, could wear glasses or watches, for some of you your future spouse could have curly hairs, skin could be pale/dark/tan possibly olive. They workout a lot, could have a dad bod with muscles too, but nevertheless very attractive, they also seem quite dominating, their eyes color seems to be blue/black and brown or unique color of sort, they might take care of their self quite good. They might like to wear sport shoes a lot. They really look like a model honestly.

That's all pile 3! Your fs is very attractive inside and out, love that for you guys~

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

[ghostlyferrettarot]

★Pick a Picture: 🎬💎Your next glow up💎🎬

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

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💎Masterlist💎

💜Pile 1: 9 of Swords, 3 of Cups and The Chariot.

Hi pile 1! Your glow up is both external and internal, especially if you've been a little down lately. Good things are coming and you'll have the opportunity to stand out more to others.

During this process, you'll meet new people who will open up new opportunities for you and allow you to explore new horizons. In addition, you'll have the chance to change your environment through a new job opportunity, a move, etc. These changes will help you rediscover yourself and shine through your own essence.

Take advantage of this stage to connect with yourself, discover new passions and continue moving towards the best version of yourself. Trust that good things are coming and that this process will take you to a place of greater happiness. Trust the process even if its uncomfortable! you deserve good thoughts pile 1!

💜Song:

🧡Pile 2: 7 of Wands, Queen of Cups and The Empress.

Hi pile 2! Your glow up is going to be a complete transformation! I think you are someone who enjoys experimenting with different looks, and you have a great aesthetic sense for fashion. I am sure that you will finally discover your unique style, the one that makes you look and feel better than ever. People will definitely notice the change and I assure you that you will receive many compliments and attention.

It will be a stage in which you will stand out and attract the attention of many, you may even have several suitors interested in you. You are in the process of finding yourself and that will make you shine brighter than ever.

If you have been searching for your ideal style for a while, you will be happy to know that you have finally found it. "You are shining!" is what I heard as I was channeling, so amazing pile 2!

🧡Song:

🩷Pile 3: The World, 10 of Cups and 10 of Swords.

Hi pile 3! Your glow up is going to be a very important one for you. I feel that you will find your way in a totally unexpected way. You may have been questioning your interests and identity, but i feel like all of that will come to an end. You will find what you are passionate about and what will make you feel fulfilled.

This process will not only lead you to a better financial situation, but it will also be reflected in your personality. Many will be inspired by your story and the way you have managed to find your true passion. Your inner glow will be reflected in everything around you, and that will attract positive people into your life.

You will see how your social circle expands and how you surround yourself with individuals who push you to continue growing. Your glow up will not only be visible in your physical appearance, but also in the way you carry yourself in the world. I even got a bit emotional channeling ypur energy pile 3, you should be really proud of yourself! sending you lots of love!

🩷Song:

🎬💎Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated💎🎬

[taamlok]

here's a collection of all the shadow figures i could find, under the cut for length and spoilers

i have posted about this previously, but there are 2 shadow figures that frequently show up in the game: one of them is kat and the other is corey. kat's shadow is doing her idle pose, and you can clearly see the strands of hair by her ears, her rolled up sweater sleeves, and the indents of her overall straps. corey's shadow sports his distinctive haircut, the silhouette of the outfit he's wearing the night of the concert, and also is standing in corey's idle pose with his arm crossed (he's even slightly rolling one ankle).

shadow!kat

ther first shadow!kat sighting takes place in 2022, where she can be seen on the righthand side of the bar when swann gets out of her car during the opening scene. (thank you @knifenick for telling me about this one!)

shadow!kat can also be seen standing in the corner of the cabin when swann breaks in for the first time. i think it's fair to say that she is the one who caused the "woosh" noise and posted the note with instructions of how to get in, especially since her knife is used to pin it to the post.

if you go up into the loft while cleaning out the cabin and approach the corn husk doll, shadow!kat blinks in and out of view

shadow!kat flickers behind swann right before the power goes out during their video viewing party

EDIT 21/04/2025: after the girls head back to the cabin from the campfire at the lake, you can examine the heart with the girls' initials carved into a tree. when you do so, shadow!kat will pop in and out of view.

EDIT 21/04/2025: when the girls enter the clearing for the first time, shadow!Kat appears behind swann

if you don't chicken out of bloody mary, shadow!kat appears behind swann in the mirror. you can even see the tie on top of her headband. interestingly, it was kat who made the dare and egged swann on to keep going

here she is again in the hunting blind, watching swann follow the moths to the abyss. weirdly, this version of her has no clothes or hair AND has distinguishable facial features, which is how i was able to ID her as kat. i don't think this was intentional and is probably just a bug with the shadow model.

shadow!corey

the first time you can see shadow!corey is when he knocks over the clown standee at the park. between this and shadow!kat hanging the note in the cabin, this is proof that both shadow!kat and shadow!corey can physically interact with their environment to some extent.

there are 5 shadow!coreys located in the forest on the night that the girls find the cabin. i was actually able to get 2 in one shot by using the freecam mode, however they are positioned in a way that stops you from being able to see more than one at a time in regular gameplay. it seems we're supposed to feel like the shadow is popping in and out of different locations around the forest. i also think it's worth noting that in both this scene and the scene with the clown standee remarks are made about there being a serial killer (swann optional dialogue and kat saying there's a masked serial killer in the woods, respectively). there's also the brief clip at the start of the game that shows someone wearing a wolf mask, which i think is corey (i brightened it in photoshop and could see his eye colour). not really relevant here, just food for thought.

here's shadow!corey watching the girls make their blood pact.

when we return to 2022 from the memory of finding the abyss, you can look out the window to find shadow!corey once again. nora and autumn are talking about him during this scene, saying that he was blamed for something that happened at the ranch.

if i missed any please let me know and i'll add them! also feel free to share this elsewhere, all i ask is that you please link back to this post because this took a lot of time and effort!