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thesparkling-diamond27 · 3 months ago

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Hey, can you do a Fiyero x reader where the reader doesn't trust people much and he likes her and helps her trust people?

No One Mourns The Wicked

Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader

A/n: I had to revise this several times because I was not happy with it, so I hope you like it! I took some inspiration from scream and to all the boys I loved before, so if you know you know. I also continued with the theme of having song titles because I’ve been listening to the soundtrack 24/7 :)

It wasn’t easy to trust people. Especially after what happened a year ago. Trusting people meant to let them in and let them see the real you. It was a beautiful thing. But trusting people also made it easier for people to take advantage of you and betray you.

Before the incident it was easy to let people in. You let people in quite often because you enjoyed the concept of meeting new people and getting to know them on a personal level. Now having your walls up has become second nature and it’s hard to go back to the way things used to be. So now you keep everyone at an arms distance and only interact when necessary.

Life was fine that way. You were still very close with your family and they respected your new choice of living. But no one outside of your family gets to discover the real you.

You were actually glad when you received the news, one early morning, that Prince Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie Country had just arrived at Shiz. You knew that everyone would be too preoccupied with him to notice you, so it was the perfect way to avoid people.

If you saw him anywhere near, you would walk the in the opposite direction in order to avoid people. And it worked. But that didn’t mean you never thought about him.

He seemed like he was fun to be around. Carefree and oblivious to the tribulations of the world, but at the same time still being aware. He would be someone you would have been friends with before what happened.

Sometimes you wish you weren’t the way you were. You wish you could just walk up to him and strike up a conversation. Younger you definitely would have been able to. Now you just sit by and watch and only imagine what it would be like to interact with Fiyero Tigelaar.

What you didn’t know was that he was intrigued by you as well and he was determined to get to know you.

—————————

You were currently in the library writing an essay for literature. It was your best subject and you always received perfect scores, but your mind wasn’t there at the moment. You knew that you would get nowhere if you kept pushing yourself, so you set your essay aside and decided to read a book.

You left your belongings where you sat and went to a nearby bookshelf near the fantasy section. You found the title of the next book from the series you were currently reading. It was pretty high up so you had to stand up on your tip toes.

Your fingers grazed the spine of the book and then suddenly a hand came from behind and grabbed the book from the shelf. You turned around and it was the man himself. The one no one could stop talking about. Fiyero Tigelaar.

This was the first time you’ve ever been in such close proximity with him. You’ve never realized that his eyes were crystal blue until now. You being the person who never interacts with people waited for him to say something first.

“You’re Y/n right?”

You nodded.

“I’ve seen you around and never properly introduced myself. I’m Fiyero Tigelaar,” He paused for dramatic effect, “of Winkie country.”

“I know.”

You plucked the book from his hand and walked back to your chair. Fiyero ran after you and stopped you from getting back to your seat.

“How come I only see you in class and rarely around campus?” He asked.

You were taken aback by his words. You didn’t even know he knew you existed let alone kept tabs on you about where you were.

“I like to keep to myself.”

You walked past him and sat back in your seat. You opened up the book and began to read the first page. Suddenly, you heard the chair across from you scrape and somebody sat down it in. Very slowly the top of your book was pushed down by a finger and you looked up to see Fiyero.

He sat there, with the chair facing the opposite direction that it should be, looking dare you say, devilishly handsome. The corner of his lips pointed upward in an endearing smile.

Younger you would have come up with some witty remark to say, but you now drew a blank at what words to choose from. Feeling like a fish out of water when interacting with others.

“You don’t talk much do you?” He pointed out.

You shook your head.

“Why is that?”

His head tilted to the side like a puppy and you wanted to point it out, but you were too afraid to.

“Because I want to.” You said.

“Because you want to. No there has to be more to it.”

“There isn’t.”

Fiyero sat there for a moment before speaking again.

“I don’t really see you interacting with other people much. It’s as if you socially isolate yourself on purpose. Why are you so antisocial?”

This guy doesn’t try to allude to anything you thought. He just says whatever pops into his brain.

“I’m not antisocial.”

Fiyero gave you a skeptical look, but then suddenly you could see the gears turning in his head, while thinking about what you just said. He leaned forward in his chair and talked quieter.

“You don’t trust people do you.”

That sentence caught you off guard. No one has ever been so blatantly blunt with you until now. Even though you keep to yourself you actually are an open book, and anyone would get to the point Fiyero is right now if they cared enough.

Even though you never voluntarily interacted with others you secretly wished that someone cared enough to get to know you. But now that you finally got what you wished for, you didn’t know what to do.

You felt like a deer caught in headlights. You can hear the answer in your head as clear as day, but putting it into the words was the issue. The words were coherent, but they became jumbled as soon as you tried to speak.

So you did what you did best. You avoided people. In this case you avoided Fiyero. You stood up and began to grab your belongings.

Fiyero’s smile began to fall from his face.

“Did I do something wrong?”

But you ignored him. You grabbed the rest of your belongings and began to speed walk towards the exit of the library, when you felt a hand grab your wrist.

You looked up at Fiyero and he had guilt written all over his face. It made you feel guilty for acting the way you did.

“If I said anything to offend you then I’m sorry. I only wanted to get to know you better. I’m sorry if my questions came off as rude. I was just nervous and I really wanted to make a first good impression and—“

You didn’t let him finish and you yanked your hand free from his hold. Without another word you walked out of the library and you didn’t look back.

You felt his eyes on your back and you could have sworn you felt his regret and disappointment all the way down the courtyard.

—————————

For the rest of the week Fiyero kept his distance from you and you were grateful for it. It’s like the way things were before, but now whenever you two came across each other he would either smile or nod at you. A way to still interact you, but not so direct and it gave you time to think about what you could possibly say to him.

You felt guilty about the way you treated him the other day and it’s been eating you alive that you caused him pain. You didn’t mean to be rude, but you just didn’t know how to explain to him why you are the way you are. It meant opening up to him. Trusting him. And that’s something that you haven’t done in a long time. You forgot how to trust anyone.

You tried to come up with different scenarios in your head on how you could confront him. But you knew deep down that you could plan on what to say, but you woundn’t know how to set your plan into motion. As of right now you had nothing

So you tried to write down your thoughts in a letter to say you’re sorry for the way you acted, but you could barely write two sentences before crumbling the paper up and throwing it in the trash. All of your drafts seemed too impersonal.

And when you weren’t trying to write an apology letter, you often thought about the last few words he said: “I was just nervous and I really wanted to make a first good impression and—“

What did he mean by that? From the outside he looked calm, cool and collected. He never gave off the impression he was nervous, so why would he be nervous with you? And why would he want to make a first good impression with you? It’s not like you are someone important.

But you tried not to dwell on it too much because you still had assignments, exams, and projects that needed to be completed and that was stressful enough.

One day after a stressful exam you decided to find solitude in your hiding place. There was a forest near campus you went to whenever you needed to clear your head or simply be alone.

Today you simply wanted to draw, something you did quite often, and you thought what would be better artistic inspiration than the forest you always go to.

You found a clearing with a pound and used a nearby rock as a seat. You began sketching the outline. You started with the lake and then moved on to make roughly shaped trees. You can get more detailed with everything once the layout is sketched out.

You found it quite peaceful to be alone and content with the only sounds being the ripples of the water and the animals and bugs in the forest. You were shading the edge of the flower you drew with a shading tool, to create a shadow, when you heard a twig snap. Your head snapped to look at the intruder and it was the last person you expected to see.

Fiyero.

All the guilt you’ve been feeling came crashing down like a tidal wave. You didn’t think you would see Fiyero right now. You thought he didn’t know this place existed. You weren’t prepared and you had no idea what to say, so you just stared at him.

Fiyero said nothing either and he took a seat on the rock next to you. You continued to stare at him as he picked a flower from the ground and began to pluck the petals off. With every other petal he said.

“She’ll talk to me.

She won’t talk to me

She’ll talk to me

She won’t talk to me.”

Finally the last petal.

“She’ll talk to me.” Fiyero said with wink.

You looked away from Fiyero and down on the ground because you didn’t want him to see your blushing face. The grass looked very interesting all of a sudden. You began to pick out the spades of grass.

“You don’t have to say anything to me right now. We can just sit in silence if you would like. But over time I want to get to know you little by little. I know I have to gain your trust, and I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to trust me.”

You looked up at him and noticed his eyes softened. You tried to read them and they gave a sense of acceptance and comfort.

He accepted the fact that it would take a while to break down the walls you built around yourself, but he’ll wait. His presence alone felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around you.

Without realizing it, tears began to well up in your eyes. Although you gave off the impression of wanting to be alone, all you along you wanted someone to approach you and put in the effort to get to know you.

You haven’t had a basic human connection in so long and you’ve longed to feel that way again. To feel like a piece of you was missing, but when you were together with that special person you felt whole. That missing piece finding its rightful place in your heart. You haven’t felt that way in a long time.

Not until now.

You felt something soft land on your hand that was to the side. It was Fiyero’s hand. He flipped your hand so that your palm was facing upwards and he interlocked your hands together.

You looked back up at Fiyero and he was already looking at you with a warm smile. It made you feel dizzy and odd in the best way possible. You felt that leap in your heart that you never thought you would feel again. It caused a tear to finally slip from your pooling eyes.

Fiyero chuckled softly before using his other hand to wipe away the stray tear from your cheek ever so gently.

“No one has ever took the time to learn more about me.” You said with a small smile.

Fiyero brought your interlocked hands to his lips and kissed the top of your hand.

“Well then let me be the first one to do so.” He said with a gentle, comfortable smile. Fiyero turned to the sketchbook that was sitting on your lap.

“What are you drawing?” He asked.

You could tell he wanted to say something more. There was something left in the air that was left unsaid. You knew what he was doing and you were grateful for it. He wanted to get to know you, but he was starting with something small, which was your sketchbook. Nothing too personal, but big enough to create an opening for something more.

You looked up at the pond in front of you and pointed at it as a way to answer Fiyero’s question. He seemed to understand. He looked between the pond and your drawing and a smile spread across his face from ear to ear.

“You are very good!” He exclaimed, “your drawing looks like an image!”

“Thank you.” You said quietly.

“You’re welcome.” Fiyero was satisfied that he got you to start talking to him. Even if they were a few words at a time. He would wait.

And he did.

—————————

Over the next few weeks Fiyero did his best to intertwine himself into your life, but without stepping on your toes too much. He was usually the one to approach you, but now you didn’t shy away and you enjoyed his company.

Most of the time the two of you sat in silence and Fiyero didn’t mind it. It was a change from the noisy and boisterous life he was used to, but he enjoyed it.

Spending time with you was like escaping from his exciting life. He always felt like he had to put on a show for others, but with you he could just be himself. He could just be plain old Fiyero. And that made him very happy.

As time went on you began to open up to him little by little the more time you spent with together. He would often acompany you in the library or your dorm room whenever you were studying or he would be following you to the forest where you would draw.

Your simple nods become smiles, and your quick words became sentences. And the other day you laughed for the first time in front of Fiyero and it was music to his ears. Day by day Fiyero began to start seeing the real you piece by piece and he was longing to know more. (At your own pace of course).

As you started to open up to him more, you began to trust him. The first person you ever trusted ever since the incident and you couldn’t help, but feel proud of yourself. With the help of Fiyero’s constant presence you were able to let someone in and that’s an accomplishment in itself in your eyes.

One day, when Fiyero and you were siting on your bed, he cautiously asked you what has been on his mind for awhile. Why do you not trust people?

You answered with, “Cause the more people you let into your life, the more that can just walk out.”

Fiyero wanted you to elaborate, but he could sense your sadness, so he didn’t push any further. However, you trusted him enough to share with him about what happened to you. Why you became the way you are. So you did.

You explained how you were dating a guy named Charlie and shortly after, out of nowhere your grandma got sick with an illness. She died within a month.

Your grandmother was like a second mother to you. She helped your parents raise you and has been by your side for all your life. Loosing her was like losing a piece of yourself. A piece that you can never gain back.

At first Charlie was understanding about your grief, but then over time he grew bored with you. He felt like you were being a prude for not giving him what he desired from you and you tried to explain to him that that was the furthest thing from your mind (you were still grieving), but he didn’t listen.

So he turned to someone who would give him what he wanted. Your best friend.

To say you were heartbroken was an understatement. The one person you thought you could trust the most in the world betrayed you in the worst way possible with your best friend, another person you trusted. Your heart was broken in more ways than one and there was no way to heal the opened wound.

You could barely grieve for your grandmother when your heart was split in two from the cheating and the break up. You couldn’t bear to feel anymore pain, so you began to block people out.

It was easier to dull the pain when the people who caused it weren’t it, so to prevent it from ever happening again, you made sure no one else was in your life.

Fiyero listened whole heartedly to every word that left your lips and processed what was being said. He felt immense anger towards your ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend. How could they do that to you? To someone who was so gentle and pure of heart. If Fiyero ever crossed paths with either one of them they would wish they never met him.

But at the same time he felt immense pride and gratitude. He was proud of you for still standing strong after what happened to you and he was grateful that you trusted him enough to share your story. Trust that he wouldn’t take for granted.

Fiyero grabbed your hand that was sitting in your lap and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“I’m glad you feel comfortable enough with me to share what you just told me. I know it took you a lot of strength to get where you are now and to relive it once again as you told me.” Fiyero cleared his throat. “There’s something that my mother always used to say to me. She would say, “Goodness knows the wicked’s lives are lonely. Goodness knows the wicked die alone. It just shows when your wicked your left only on your own.”

He gave you a moment to let the words sink in.

“No one mourns the wicked and you are not wicked. You are the opposite of that. You are the sunshine that creeps in from the clouds. You don’t deserve to be alone or feel lonely because then you’ll die alone. They are the ones who deserve that, so don’t let them win. You’re mourning everything that you had when you should be living in the present. If you continue to go down this path then they win.”

And ever since that day you’ve lived by his words. It didn’t happen overnight, but over time you became more open with others around you and you found yourself having a few acquaintances. They weren’t friends now, but you can see yourself becoming friends with them in the future.

Your trust in people wasn’t the only thing that evolved. A few weeks after you and Fiyero’s talk on your bed, he asked you out on a date and you said yes. Now you two are in a relationship and are still going strong.

Fiyero is the best boyfriend you can ever ask for and especially today. He knew how stressed you were lately with finals coming up, so he decided to surprise you with a shopping day out on the town. It was exactly what you needed after these stressful past couple of weeks.

You both were currently at a clothing store and you were looking at different dress options, while Fiyero went off to get something for his mother. You were feeling the fabric of a pink dress when you heard someone say.

“I love your shirt.”

You turned around and was face to face with a girl your age. You recognized her from Shiz. You shared a few classes with her and sometimes you would see her in the library when Fiyero was distracting you from studying.

Talking to people again was still new to you, so you couldn’t find the right words say. You pointed at your top to ask if she was talking about your shirt and she nodded.

“Yes your top! It’s really pretty! Where did you get it?!”

Then you managed to find the words that were swimming through your mind.

“I uh…I actually made it.” You said bashfully.

The girl looked stunned.

“Really?! How.”

“I crocheted it.”

“That’s really impressive. I wish I had the gentleness to do something like that. My hands are NOT meant for such tedious things.”

“It’s actually not that hard. Of course for a beginner it might be difficult, but once you get the hang of it it’s not so bad.” You replied.

You had no idea how you managed to gather the courage to continue talking to her, but somehow you were doing it. You two broke into a lovely conversation and you two were in your own little world.

Fiyero had just finished paying at the register, so he turned around to go look for you and he found you in the dress section talking to a girl!

You’ve been more open with people lately, but you always had the protection of Fiyero with you so you could feel a sense of support. This was the first time he saw you engaging with someone on your own and he felt proud of you. With a smile adorning his face he walked up to you and the girl.

“Hello ladies.”

“Hi Fiyero. I’m going to let you two be.” The girl said and she turned back to you. “It was so nice talking to you. Maybe we can hang out soon!”

“I would like that!” You said.

“Great!” The girl, which you found out was named Grace, gave you one last smile before walking out of the store.

“She seemed nice.” Fiyero said.

“Yeah she was.”

Fiyero slowly walked up to you and brought you into a hug. He rested his head on top of yours and quietly whispered in your ear, “I’m proud of you.”

You smiled and said I know. That caused Fiyero to chuckle and he pulled away, so he could look at your face.

“I got you something.” He said as he handed you a plastic bag.

“I thought you got something for your mom.”

“I might have lied.” Fiyero said with a smirk.

You playfully punched him in the arm and curiously grabbed what was in the bag. In your hand was a small velvet square box. You gave Fiyero an arched eyebrow, but he only prompted you to open the box.

You slowly opened it and inside was a necklace. It had a gold chain and at the center was a sun charm. It was shiny and it had different hues of orange and yellow. It was beautiful.

You instantly knew the meaning behind it. Lately he has been calling you sunshine because he believes that you are the sun that lights up his day. The first time he called you sunshine your cheeks turned into a tomato, so he’s been using that nickname any chance he could.

“Fiyero…” you didn’t know what to say. Fiyero grabbed the box from your hands and carefully took the necklace out of the box. He told you to turn around and you obliged. His arms went in front of you and he wrapped the necklace around your neck. Once it was clasped you turned around and Fiyero was looking at you like you held the sun in the sky.

“Now you can shine your light on everyone sunshine.” He said with a smile.

You instantly wrapped your arms around him and he reciprocated your actions. He placed a kiss on top of your head and smoothed out the knots in your hair.

“No more mourning.” Fiyero said.

You looked up at him.

“No more mourning.”

In that moment the old you disappeared.

“Now at last she’s dead and gone

Now at last there’s joy throughout the land.

No one mourns the wicked.”

#wicked film #wicked fiyero #fiyero tigelaar #fiyero tigelaar x reader #prince fiyero #fiyero x you #jonathan bailey

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tac-the-unseen · 7 months ago

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hiiii how r u? ❤️

can you do alphabet SFW for hannigramx reader? 💕

Hannigram x Reader SFW alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Hannibal is an acts of service kind of guy. He cooks, he cleans, he helps with work, But that's just surface level stuff he does for everyone he's around. When it comes to relationships Hannibal is more of words of affirmation and physical touch.

Will has one setting, Quality time. Sitting down to watch a show, Fishing, Long walks, Puzzles and games. All stuff he enjoys and likes sharing with his partners!

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Hannibal and Will are tough nuts to crack. To have to prove yourself as trustful and reliable before they start a relationship with you. (Hannibal may or may not have had his sights set on you before he even spoke to you.)

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Hannibal enjoys occasional cuddles and hugs. He definitely needs them from time to time, but can go for a long while before he's desperate for affection.

Will simply doesn't like being touched. Tough

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Both men want a quite simple lives…. eventually…but they still have a little bit more murder in them

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Hannibal might kill you and eat you OR let you go on with your life (he will always be there, you just won't know it)

Will is a respectful gentleman and understands not all relationships work out. He'll have a long chat with you before parting ways.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

They Both want to get married. Simple as that! (Hannibal is totally a groomzilla)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Yes and No.

They do have Gentle moments with each other, but they do get covered in blood quite often. But surprisingly the Gore can be very soft and gentle from time to time. Even down right romantic if you catch them on the right occasion.

But you're dating two cannibals, so you already knew that.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Sometimes, they like to keep the PDA to a minimum.

Also hugs isn't always their kind of affection, They will absolutely give hugs if you ask, but they like words of affirmation a bit more.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

YEARS. These men use verbal word play to convey affection. If they outright say ‘I Love you’, you can expect them or you to be dying.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Absolutely. They do undoubtedly have confidence in you and the relationship, but they just can't help a guy testing their smooth moves on you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kisses are pretty rare When it comes to Hannibal and Will. Kisses are saved for special occasions and bedroom activities. BUT, if it is to occur, they're pretty soft and sensual.

Hannibal Targets the lips, knuckles, shoulders, and chest.

Will Targets the lips, neck, face, and stomach.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

……Oh…..good?......RIP Abby….

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Hannibal is up bright and early at 4:00 am. He has a whole morning routine that takes him an hour to complete. At 5:00 he makes breakfast and goes through all the appointments he has that day. At 6:00 he's out the door and off to work.

Will wakes up, lays in bed for a few minutes, uses the bathroom, and goes downstairs to eat breakfast. He heads out for work around 6:30 ish.

If they have both managed to score a day off at the same time, breakfast is pushed back and hour. Not because Hannibal spends more time in bed, but because he gets to spend more time in his grooming routine. Hannibal spends an additional hour in the bathroom cleaning himself up.

Will on the other hand does stay in bed. He waits until Hannibal is done, uses the bathroom, and goes back to bed until breakfast is ready. He's a very simple guy.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Hannibal has a Bedtime routine that also takes quite some time. (Yes, he will occasionally skip all of that to just hop into bed, but that's not often.) If you're all close enough (and there's room) He'll let you and Will get in the shower with him. At the end he slides into the far right side of the bed and lets you and will cuddle with him.

Will takes a shower, brushes his teeth, and get into the far left side of the bed. On occasion Hannibal will force him into his own routine (which involves a lot of oils and creams) that Will is not all that pleased to be doing.

If you're a very cuddly person, cling to Hannibal. He loves feeling needed and in control.

If you're not a cuddly person, turn and face Will. Will isn't the biggest fan of physical touch so you'll be (relatively) left alone.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

HA.

Hannibal HAS to be in your head first before he even considers opening up in the slightest.

Will is closed off until Hannibal reassures him that you're trustworthy.

This could takes years.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Do they get angry easily, yes. But they are in it for the long con.

They have taken years playing with their prey before they kill them. Their patients is through the roof.

Hannibal is the more patient one of course, but Will is also slow moving evil in a vest.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Hannibal remembers everything you tell him. He soaks up that information like a sponge.

Will might forget a few things but over all remembers most of what you tell him.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Hannibal:

Hannibal texts you later in the day to tell you he'll be home late. He feels bad and tries to get through the night as quickly as possible.

When he eventually comes home he could smell a savory scent coming from the kitchen. He creeps up softly to the kitchen and peaks inside.

There you are, doing your damn best to make dinner. He found it really sweet and let you work it out alone.

Was it the best meal he ever had? No. Was it the one He loved the most? Yes!

Will:

During one of the lowest points of his life He genuinely couldn't be alone. He felt like he could rely on anyone but desperately needed help, so he ended up calling you.

You were there within an hour with an overnight bag.

You stayed with him all night and the next day. You made sure he slept, ate, and showered. He's never forgotten that, and thinks of that act of kindness daily.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Both of them have killed for you, and will do it again.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Hannibal will put in maximum effort in all dates. He puts in the works, food, wine, place, timing, all of it

Will will do his best, plan something nice, Wear something presentable.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

…. Despite the obvious…Hannibal can't stop staring into your soul. His gaze can pass through anyone. It's bone chilling at the best of times.

Will…. Will has one of the most infamous killers of all time in the palm of his hand. He absolutely uses that to his advantage.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Hannibal 90% sometimes He couldn't be bothered, most the time he is.

Will 50%, He's been out and about missing some clothing.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Hannibal loves hard. Obsessively. He stalks, he creeps, he prowls, he peeps. There are no secrets, he already knows. He loves knowing, That's how he shows it.

Will needs support, well he could survive a while without you, after a few hours you will be bombarded with texts and calls. He'll be all pretty over the phone telling you he just needs to hear your voice.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Headcannons here 😘

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

•Undependable

•bad punctuality

•tied down

•uneducated

•non-adaptable

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Hannibal doesn't need any fancy stuff to sleep, But he loves to pretend he does. Face masks, thick pillows, soft heavy blankets, lotions, candles, sound machines, etc. It makes me feel high and mighty

Will will fall asleep in his work clothes, Jeans and all.

They will of course cuddle you if you ask.

Thanks for reading <3

#slashers #reader #x reader #nbc hannibal #hannibal x reader #will graham x reader #hannigram #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader x will #hannibal #sfw alphabet #sfw headcanons

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silverryuan · 7 months ago

Text

Vil Schoenheit with a sibling dating Neige and then coming out gay to him

Sibling! Schoenheit: *knocks on door*

Vil: "Who is it?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "It's me, dear brother."

Vil: "Ah, you may come in."

Sibling! Schoenheit: *opens door* "Good afternoon."

Vil: "Good afternoon. May I ask why are you here instead of attending your club activities?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "To discuss something important with you."

Vil: "And does this discussion have anything to do with your academic performance? Professor Crewel talked to me yesterday and he said that you're failing his quizzes. Would you care to explain?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "....."

Vil: "....?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "....I'm gay, Vil."

Vil: "I know. Now tell me why are your grades below the standards' perfection?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "It's alright if you don't understa- wait, what?"

Vil: "Are you deaf? I said why are your scores in--"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "No,no,not that. You KNEW I was gay? How?"

Vil: "Mostly due to my influence. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't strive to study."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "For how long?"

Vil: "As early as your freshman year."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "..."

Vil: "So Rook told me that you're dating someone without my permission..."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "ROOK!"

Rook, hidden under the window outside: "Oui?"

Sibling! Schoenheit, removes one of their shoes and throws it at Rook: "I SWEAR TO THE GREAT SEVENS, IF I SEE YOU AGAIN YOU'RE IN BIG TROUBLE!!"

Rook, dodges the shoe and leaves: "Ooh la la! A hunt between me and Roi du Toxique! In that case, I will prepare to be hunted! Au revoir!"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "WHY THAT SON OF A--

Vil: "Ahem!"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "... Baguette."

Vil: "I am guessing that this secret lover of yours is also the reason why you're failing?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "No, it's not that..."

Vil: "Then you must be struggling whether to change yourself to suit your secret lover's horrible tastes?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "You're wrong! Neige is--"

Vil: "Pardon?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "U-umm... They are a good person?"

Vil: "I'm sorry but... I couldn't help but hear a certain name "Neige" coming from you."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "....I can explain---"

Vil: "GREAT SEVENS, SIBLING! SCHOENHEIT! HAVE YOU DROPPED YOUR STANDARDS?! I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU CHOOSE TO DATE HIM INSTEAD OF ANY OTHER MEN OUT THERE!! HE IS A MUCH WORSE INFLUENCE THAN EPEL!!!"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "...B-but he's a sweet and kind person with good morale... I cannot ask for a better lover--"

Vil: "PLEASE! THAT FRIENDLY AURA OF HIS IS NOTHING BUT A FACADE TO GET WHAT HE WANTS!! ONE DAY, YOU'LL UNDERSTAND THAT THE WORLD OF BEAUTY AND ENTERTAINMENT WILL CHOOSE HIM OVER YOU, AND YOU'LL STAY IN HIS SHADOW NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU TRY!!!"

Sibling! Sibling: "Well, that's rich coming from someone who hasn't even seen his facade!"

Vil, about to Overblot a second time: "YOU DIDN'T EVEN CONSIDER HIS OBLIVIOUSNESS AND NAIVETY AS A PART OF HIS OVERLY HAPPY-GO-LUCKY PERSONALITY! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT HE MAKES LITTLE TO NO EFFORT OF WORKING HARD PAINFULLY EVERYDAY FOR THE SAKE OF BEAUTY?! HE. IS. NOT. WORTHY. TO BE CALLED THE MOST BEAUTIFUL OF ALL!!!"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "Can't YOU see that he's trying to be himself?!... He didn't want to upset everyone that he's being overwhelmed by his own popularity... He perfected and keeps the smile on his face everyday to hide it all... He cares and loves me for ME. And I cherish every moment with him."

Vil: ".........."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "...It's okay, dear brother. Although I am choosing him... You're still the most beautiful of all."

Vil: ".....You mean that, Sibling! Schoenheit?"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "I mean every single word and I stay true to you as your sibling."

Vil, hugs them: ".....I forgive you."

Sibling! Schoenheit, hugs back: "... Thank you for understanding."

Vil: "........................"

Sibling! Schoenheit: "...................."

Vil: "I forgive YOU but I don't forgive HIM. I'll allow you to date him for a while but if he tries anything strange, come to me."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "Brother!"

Vil: "I stand with my statement. You cannot change my mind. Now that that's out of the way, what are you potatoes doing in my room?"

Ace: "...Huh?...."

Deuce: "... U-umm...."

Rook: "😊"

Epel: ".........Uhh...."

Jamil: ".....*sigh*....."

Kalim: "We thought that you're gonna Overblot again, so..."

Sibling! Schoenheit: "................."

Vil: "ALL OF YOU GET OUT."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Twst x GN reader #Twst x male reader #Twisted Wonderland x GN reader #Twisted Wonderland x male reader #Vil Schoenheit #Neige LeBlanche #Vil Schoenheit x Sibling reader #Twst x sibling reader #Twisted Wonderland x sibling reader

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redladydeath · 3 months ago

Text

Monthly Proto Vox AU update

For anyone who doesn't know, ever since Prototype Vox was discovered, I've been gradually putting together a backstory for Vox centered around the idea that that's how he originally spawned in Hell. It's gotten to be over 10K words long. Just wanted to make a new masterpost since I've added onto the older one 32 times.

Also, I don't think I ever posted about this, but I put this on Ao3 a few weeks ago.

Alastor goes to speak with another overlord, trying to decide whether or not he should kill them. While there, he notices that said overlord has the most fascinating little toy/pet/jester. Such novel technology… he thinks he’ll take it, whether the overlord wants him to or not!

Alastor keeps Vox around because he’s cute and entertaining. As time passes, a legitimate friendship starts to form as Alastor realizes that Vox is far more than meets the eye— tricksy, devious, and intelligent. He learns that before he arrived in Hell, Vox was a handsome, well-respected adult man, and he isn’t too keen on constantly being mistaken for a child and treated like a joke by other sinners. A pity he has to live like that… but it’s not like there’s anything to be done for it! And Alastor must say, he’s fond of his little picture box the way he is.

With Alastor’s guidance, Vox slowly accumulates knowledge and resources and discovers that he can modify his body. He jumps on the opportunity at once— he doesn’t want to live like this anymore, and he’ll do anything to be respected (or at least taken seriously) by other people again. Alastor disapproves but holds his tongue.

Time passes, and Vox changes more and more things about himself until he’s almost unrecognizable. He and Alastor get into arguments about it. It’s galling to Vox that Alastor keeps insisting he was better off in a form he hated. Mix all this with the modernity and “morality”/standards stuff, and you eventually get Vox and Alastor falling out.

Years later, Vox hates that he was ever that weak and can’t stand being reminded of Alastor, their old relationship, or his early life in Hell. He works hard to destroy/bury any traces of who he used to be, but Alastor is a walking, eternal reminder of the past he’d rather forget. Alastor is loathe to admit it, but he still misses his old friend. Sometimes, he wonders if he ever truly knew him at all.

---

Freshly fallen Vox seeking out an overlord’s protection because, holy shit, if he tries to survive on the streets any longer, he’s gonna get killed, or worse. Most sinners get asked if they can do anything useful when they go to an overlord; Vox gets asked if he can sing, dance, and do comedy routines. He can, so he’s quickly scooped up by the overlord. He supposes he should be grateful that he was able to score a comfortable job doing something not terribly unpleasant, but the dehumanization of being treated like a doll or an adorable purse dog grates on him. He remembers who he really is (or used to be) and would do anything to be seen as a man again rather than a novelty.

---

Imagine feeling so utterly desexed by your body, finding someone you think you can trust to respect you, confessing that you’re in love with them, and they laugh in your face for thinking such a thing was even remotely possible. Alastor doesn’t do a great job clarifying that he’s disinterested in a relationship out of personal preference rather than because he doesn’t respect Vox, and Vox walks away from the encounter seething, believing that Alastor never saw him as anything more than a pet or a clown.

---

Man, this would especially suck for my hc version of Vox, who used to be a small-time Vaudevillian when he was a child. Like. Yaaaayyy, time to dance around and act cutesy for people who have complete power over you… again…… when you’re pushing forty…………

---

Vox was REALLY starting to feel like he'd made an irreversible mistake before Alastor came into his life. He'd been in the employ of his overlord for four years, and he could count the number of times he'd been allowed to leave their compound on two (four-fingered) hands. They weren't cruel to him per se, but they really did seem to see him as a pet– something to trail after them all day, do tricks on demand, and show off to colleagues at parties. Any plans he had for carving out a dignified, powerful life for himself were going up in smoke. He knew a lot of things from constantly overhearing conversations about the overlord's business, but he didn't have anyone to trade that information to because of his restricted mobility. He understood that he had some pretty unique powers, but he'd never gotten the chance to use them in combat, only to perform. It was becoming clear to Vox that the only way he was going to escape this doltish, embarrassing life was if someone killed his overlord (something he couldn't do himself due to the deal they struck).

And then the Radio Demon came walking through the door.

---

Vox really has no idea what Alastor's deal is when they first meet. Like. He kidnaps him but also says Vox can leave whenever he wants. But like. where is he supposed to go??? Alastor just killed his overlord, which, yeah, Vox wanted to happen, but now he's homeless and isn't sure how to proceed. Is it safe to stay with Alastor, or is he just going to kill him next?

Vox keeps up the "silly little cartoon" persona for a while because Alastor seems to find it amusing, but things gradually slip through the cracks. He's scared Alastor will abandon or kill him if he grows bored or dissatisfied with him, but... Alastor seems to like the real him? He actually lets him speak freely and talk about whatever he wants? He uses his tech powers to turn off the in-built censors that keep Vox from swearing?? When he realizes that Vox is actually really cunning, he wants to hear his feedback on things??? Sure, he still kinda talks down to him, but Alastor's like that with everyone. This... maybe this could be more than just trading one master for another.

---

Random thoughts about Vox’s overlord

She was enamored with him from the first moment she saw him. He was just so precious! And he was willing to do anything to receive her protection!

Her industry had nothing to do with entertainment; she took Vox in purely to be her own personal jester.

Not sure if she owned his soul or just had a deal with him to give him a safe place to live in exchange for his services.

Loved treating him like a doll. Would dress him in cute, oversized outfits, carry him around in her arms, and occasionally bring him to bed and cuddle him like some sort of plushie.

There were occasions, especially towards the beginning, when Vox would snap at her or reveal elements of his real personality. Those incidents would only lead to her doubling down on the demeaning treatment. She’d experienced mistreatment at the hands of men like him when she was alive and saw asserting her power over him as cathartic and karmic.

Usually brought him with her everywhere, but would sometimes leave him locked in her office/room by himself if she had something important scheduled. Vox had initially thought he could leave or at least walk around when she didn’t need him, but no. Besides, why would he want to leave? The streets of Hell were no place for a tiny, fragile thing like him!

Vox fucking hated her and was glad to see Alastor bash her brains in and feature her on his show.

---

Mainverse Vox died by being electrocuted by an ungrounded mic at work right before they went live. This Vox died by being electrocuted while trying to fix the family TV. His kids had been begging him to at least try to fix it since the repairman couldn’t come until the next day, and they didn’t want to miss their favorite cartoon. He was feeling indulgent that day and felt that, as the man of the house, he should be able to fix things without always calling someone else to do it for him. It didn’t end well.

---

Thinking about Vox and Alastor’s first encounter.

Alastor might have seen Vox before at an overlord event, being shown off by his boss or performing for her friends. He may have seen him for the first time when he walked into Vox’s overlord’s office and saw her toying with him. Either way, Alastor was immediately intrigued. He hadn’t seen many sinners like Vox, with his screen head and cartoony body, and could instantly tell he was a highly skilled performer. His eyes followed him, even as Vox’s overlord put him aside and ordered him to get her and Alastor drinks. Vox could tell Alastor was watching him but wasn’t sure what to do about it. It’s probably not a good sign when the infamous Radio Demon is eying you like you’re his next meal.

Eventually, the overlord noticed that Alastor was not paying full attention to their conversation and was preoccupied with Vox. The topic briefly switched to him before Alastor inquired if she’d be willing to bargain for him. Vox was horrified. The overlord attempted to politely decline; she couldn’t bear to part with her precious little poppet. He was hers, and it would be cruel to separate them— they adored each other so much, after all. Alastor just smiled blithely and clarified: he wasn’t asking.

All hell broke loose in an instant. One moment, Vox was observing a conversation between his boss and her colleague; the next, the office was crawling with shadows, and his overlord was pinned to the wall, impaled on a tentacle. Vox panicked and tried to flee, but there was no escaping that room. There are two options for what happens next: either Vox is seized by Alastor and teleported out of the building, or Vox’s boss screams at him to help her, only for him to glance between her and Alastor and fix her with an icy stare.

No matter what happened, the outcome was the same: Vox found himself teleported onto the streets of Hell with Alastor looming over him. He frantically attempted to talk Alastor out of killing him, but Al just laughed jovially and told Vox that he had no intention of harming him. Vox was free to leave whenever he wanted, but Alastor would like to see just how entertaining he truly was.

---

As they're walking, Alastor notices a weird clicking sound coming from Vox. He asks what it is, and Vox awkwardly explains that he's wearing tap shoes and starts trying to take them off as he walks. Alastor is amused and tells him not to bother. He'd love to see him dance sometime.

---

Val: Baby? What were things like before you met me? Vox: Awesome. I had- I had women all over me, they just couldn’t get enough. Everyone was always dying to see my shows. I was voted the hottest person in Hell. It was great. Vox’s actual early career in Hell:

---

Thinking about one of the times Vox “mouthed off” to his overlord. He may be a performer, but there’s only so long he can stay in character, especially when said character is so undignified. He refused to play along with one of her little games and snapped at her that he was a man, not a fucking show dog.

Next thing Vox knew, he was nearly blinded by pain as his boss twisted his antenna almost to its breaking point. Her voice sickeningly sweet, she told him she knew exactly what kind of man he had been— Earth’s crawling with them. But those days are over now. Respect has to be earned in Hell; it’s not just going to be handed to him like when he was alive. The afterlife has made him a joke, and the sooner he accepts that the happier he'll be. That’s what he signed up for when they made their little arrangement, after all. She asked if she was understood and kept twisting his antenna until she got a loud-and-clear “Yes, ma’am” out of him. With that, she snapped back to normal and either cheerfully ushered him towards [whatever she was forcing him to do] or dismissed him in her typical patronizing manner.

Vox broke half the items in his room that night in a rage. He tried to leave gouges on his skin and dents in his head, but he couldn’t manage it, what with his stupid, soft little hands.

---

It doesn’t really fit with my headcanon that Alastor was super white-passing when he was alive and spent most of his life pretending to be white in order to have more opportunities, but I feel like he may have felt a kinship with Proto-Vox due to them both being “outsiders”— people who are/were constantly dismissed by those in power and have to work twice as hard in order to be taken seriously, even though they’re more skilled and competent than everyone else in the room. And so it hurt all the more when Vox leapt at the first opportunity to change who he was in order to join the class of people who had once looked down on him. It didn’t fully click with Alastor that Vox wasn’t always like this– that he was trying to return to who he once was rather than abandoning who he’d always been.

---

Vox wasn’t exactly doing himself any favors in terms of connecting with the other sinners who worked under his overlord. He was so desperate to reestablish at least some control over his situation that, on the rare occasion he got to interact with people without his boss looming over them, he was insufferable, acting as though his position as their overlord's constant companion made him superior to regular employees. It never actually made him feel any better though, since most people either just rolled their eyes or testily reminded him that his oh-so-important job was to make a fool of himself all day and be doted on by his "owner."

---

To most outside observers, it really looked as though the relationship between Vox and his overlord was genuinely loving. She was just so affectionate with him. There was never a moment when she wasn’t tittering away at his jokes, or playing with his antennas or plug tail, or scooping him up into her arms or lap, or hugging or tickling or cuddling him, or covering him in kisses, or coming up with adorable pet names, or showing him off to others as though he were the rarest gem she’d ever come across. No one ever seemed to notice that Vox was never the one to initiate these kind of interactions. Depending on who you asked, it was either the most adoring master-servant arrangement Hell had ever seen, a (possibly biological?) mother-son dynamic, or just an INCREDIBLY kinky relationship. Vox played his part well, laughing along and hardly ever letting the smiling mask slip. No one ever could’ve guessed just how much he loathed her and the entire humiliating situation or how cruel she could be whenever he dared drop the act.

Well, no one except Alastor, that is.

---

Imo, Proto Vox would just sound like normal Vox slightly pitched up, but man, Hell giving him a lisp or some other "funny" way of speaking on top of everything else would be such a gut punch for him. His good looks and his charismatic manner of speech were key to his success when he was alive, and now both of those lifelines have been severed.

---

Personal, headcanon-specific thoughts:

Proto Vox’s outfit is very similar to a costume he wore during his childhood on Vaudeville.

Alternate option: While I hc that sinners spawn naked, if they don’t, then Vox spawned in the exact 1920s sailor suit he used to wear during most of his childhood performances.

His Hell form is a punishment not only because it robs him of all dignity, but because it’s a constant reminder of a part of his life when he had no power over his situation and was treated like an object meant only to entertain.

---

Thinking about how Alastor’s “a smile is a means of maintaining control” philosophy might strike a chord with Proto Vox. When he was alive (and later, in his career as an overlord), putting on a smile was a way for him to project the person he wanted others to perceive him as. If he looked the part, then people would believe he was the confident, steady, trustworthy man he presented as. After he arrived in Hell, though, a smile became a mask he could not take off. Hell had chosen a role for him, and if he failed to play it well enough, he risked permanent death or worse. He resented having to keep that mindless grin on his face at all times. This wasn’t who he wanted to be. This wasn’t who he was. The idea that he could use that iron mask to regain control over his life was foreign to him, but it made sense. Now that he was no longer chained to a master who kept him locked into that hated role at all times, he had a choice in how he wanted to use it— for day-to-day survival or to further his true ambitions?

---

Vox and Alastor’s first encounter was at an overlord party like something out of a Regency romance, except Vox was three feet tall and didn’t notice Alastor was watching him because he was too busy performing for his boss’ overlord friends. Alastor appreciated the skill on display in Vox’s routine and was intrigued by the unusual way his “owner” treated him. Sure, some overlords treat those under them as pets, but she was so overly cutesy and “loving” with him that it stood out, especially given the way Vox feigned reciprocation. Interesting.

---

A scene/story idea: Vox is sitting at a desk in a grand, spacious office. It’s late, and he’s just killing time, wishing he had a cigar (and a mouth to smoke it with) and occasionally scribbling down notes for future reference. The stationary he’s using has the date printed at the top, though. It’s his daughter’s tenth birthday. He reflects on how it’s been three years since he last saw her and the rest of his family and how he’ll likely never see them again. He hopes his wife is throwing her an appropriately extravagant party, at least. They’d gone all-out for their son’s tenth birthday; half the neighborhood was there, even one or two of the ladies from work who had blown him in exchange for putting in a good word with the producers. It was a great time.

And then his boss comes walking in, complaining about what a stressful day she’s had, and the illusion that this is Vox’s office shatters. He hops down to the floor, taking his dance/comedy routine notes with him. His boss is busy getting herself a drink, so he hopes she didn’t notice him sitting in her chair. He starts trying to engage her in conversation, switching to his work persona (cheerful, cutesy, and childish). She did notice him, but she just smiles indulgently and says he always knows just what to do to cheer her up— he looked so silly sitting at her big, important desk. Now, she needs a bit of comfort; they’ll be going to bed now. She scoops Vox up as easily as if he were a doll and carries him off to serve as her (very angular) teddy bear. Vox keeps the adoring smile plastered on his face and tries to put aside the burning shame and rage that this is what the afterlife has reduced him to: a child, a pet, a toy meant to entertain those who wield the actual power.

---

You know, come to think of it, there’s actually some basis to Alastor feeling a bit of a kinship with Vox. Aside from the obvious shared trait of them both being communications/entertainment demons, Alastor’s demonic form is a prey animal. Al never had to deal with the consequences of having that kind of form since he spawned so powerful (unless we’re going with the theory that he made his mystery deal right when he got to Hell and draws the majority of his power from it (which would be pretty interesting in this context…)), but still.

---

Made Vox's room in the Sims

---

Vox tried to walk out of his job once. His boss pushed him too far, and he snapped, yelling at her to find someone else to play this fucked up game with; he’d rather take his chances on the streets. Next thing he knew, he was bound, muted, and blindfolded, being crammed into a tiny suitcase. His overlord told him to reflect on what he’d said. There’s no life after second death, only nothingness. Is that really a risk he wants to take?

Vox was in “storage” for the next week. He didn’t try to leave again after that.

---

When Vox’s boss finally decided he’d had enough time to reflect, she opened the trunk to find Vox barely able to move under his own power. He was trembling like a freezing cat, having spent seven whole days bound in the fetal position, unable to move, speak, hear, or see. He couldn’t even unfurl himself from said position without her help. When she took him into her arms, he clung to her, any thoughts of hate or anger gone, replaced with a desperate desire for human connection after a week of nothingness. She cradled him in her arms— sweet as a lamb and without a shred of that odious pride she’d been working so hard to stamp out of him. Whispering kind, soothing words, she stroked his shaking, silent body as she carried him back to her bedroom. She dozed off with him in her arms, secure in the knowledge that her darling little doll had learned his lesson: being her toy is a privilege, and the only possible alternative for him is oblivion.

---

Thinking about Proto Vox and body dysmorphia

Vox hated everything about his body.

He hated being so small, not even half the size of most other sinners.

He hated his face, cute and goofy-looking. He hated his “missing tooth,” which only added to his childish appearance.

He hated his head, oversized and heavy. He hated how clumsy it made him before he became accustomed to it.

He hated not having a physical mouth and being unable to eat.

He hated his voice, higher pitched than it had been when he was alive. He hated the childish-sounding lisp he had been afflicted with.

He hated how he couldn’t swear or talk about adult topics without his voice being drowned out by an in-built censor.

He hated his body and its strange combination of wood and metal, both of which bent in ways that shouldn’t’ve been possible.

He hated his hands, soft and rounded and nailless.

He hated how he had spawned without genitals, completely smooth and sexless, like a doll.

He hated how no one perceived him as anything even remotely resembling a sexual being, even though he was a fully grown man who had once had his pick of beautiful women when he was alive.

He hated how he weighed almost nothing, making him easy for others to pick up or restrain.

He hated the way nothing in Hell was built to accommodate sinners his size, forcing him to climb (or be lifted onto) things as simple as chairs.

He hated the way his boss made him dress: in baggy outfits that made his smallness even more apparent, in children’s clothes, in silly, oh-so adorable costumes. He especially hated when she insisted on dressing him herself as though he were her doll.

He hated how often people mistook him for a child or deliberately talked down to him as though he was stupid just because of his ridiculous body.

He hated how people laughed at him and how he had no choice but to make them laugh in order to keep himself alive.

He hated how, in one fell swoop, Hell had robbed him of everything that had made him him. His good looks, his charisma, his respectability— everything. Never in a million years would he have anticipated that this would be his punishment for his misdeeds on Earth, for looking down on others and treating them like objects to be pushed around, but he had to admit, it was a pretty potent punishment nonetheless. And he would do anything to escape it.

---

Vox’s boss was kind of massively projecting her own resentments and trauma onto him. She didn’t actually know that much about him. It was pure luck that her impression of him as an arrogant chauvinist who had treated the people in his life poorly was… you know… accurate.

---

Vox realized that he had a voyeurism kink the third time his boss had sex with someone while he was still in the room. Probably not the outcome she intended, but it wasn’t like Vox could do anything about it anyway. He still felt sexual desire, but he’d spawned in Hell without genitals so that energy had nowhere to go. Just another lovely part of Vox’s Wonderful Afterlife.

---

Most sinners are horrified when they see their new forms for the first time. Vox was just devastated.

He was horrified when he first woke up, of course– transported to a strange new place, surrounded by giant monsters, and barely able to keep from swaying under the weight of his oversized head. No one paid him or his panic any mind save for a few smirks and chuckles. Vox found himself pressed up against a wall, out of the way of the flow of pedestrians, trying to process what was going on. Once he realized something was wrong with his body, he ducked into a nearby store, desperate to find a mirror (and get away from the crowds of fellow sinners). The store clerk let him in; they weren’t supposed to let newlydead into the shop since they usually just cause a scene, but Vox looked harmless, and they felt a little bad for such a tiny, fearful sinner. Vox made a beeline for the nearest mirror.

When his reflection finally came into view, Vox… he was lost for words. Seeing his childlike proportions, it finally registered that the world hadn’t gotten bigger; he’d gotten smaller. His body… there was something wrong with it. It was made of wood and metal like a puppet; only the materials seemed to bend like rubber. Worse than that, it was completely smooth and featureless; his genitals were simply gone. His hands were soft, rounded, and nailless, more like stuffed gloves than human hands. His head was encased— no, not encased, replaced with a television set that looked like it made up the majority of his body weight. Displayed on its screen was a face like something out of a cartoon: large, shiny, googly eyes, a wide mouth, and one conspicuously absent tooth. All topped off with a pair of floppy, overly long antennas that made him resemble some kind of insect.

Vox was speechless, staring at his new body. He felt tears bubbling up as he examined each part of it. He wasn’t sure how, but some part of him knew this wasn’t a dream and that this form would not be temporary. No tears fell though, trapped behind the glass of the— his screen. He couldn’t recall the moment of his death, but the realization of where he must be began to dawn on him. A soft, despairing sound escaped him, and Vox realized his voice, too, had been changed. He was not himself anymore, just this tiny, adorable thing, right out of one of the cartoons he’d been trying to repair the TV so his children could watch. A joke.

Suddenly, Vox felt someone grab him by the arm, dragging him away from the mirror, his feet barely brushing the floor. The owner had noticed a newlydead had snuck in and was having the prerequisite “What have I become?” freakout in their store. Carelessly, they shoved/threw Vox back onto the street and slammed the door behind them. Reeling, trying to wrap his mind around the gravity of the situation, Vox stumbled and collapsed on the sidewalk, surrounded by sinners who either stepped around him like he was nothing or paused for a moment to chuckle at the clumsy newlydead struggling to regain his balance under the weight of his massive head.

---

Vox's own shitty beliefs ended up being used against him during his early years in Hell.

In life, he'd treated his wife and son poorly because they complained about being unhappy with the way things were. Vox believed that if all your physical needs were met and you were able to live comfortably, you had no right to complain. He provided them with everything, and all he asked for in return was for them to be the happy, perfect wife and son he expected them to be. What was so hard about that?!

In death, the tables were turned. Vox was able to live comfortably in a safe environment, doing a job that most sinners would describe as incredibly cushy, but he was desperately unhappy. He was forced to play an inauthentic, demeaning role 24/7 and couldn't complain about it unless he wanted to be punished. Just sit there quietly and smile while the "grownups" are talking. No one wants to hear your silly little opinions. You should be grateful that you're even allowed to be here.

---

Words were Vox's boss' preferred weapon when it came to surreptitiously tormenting him, but she wasn't above using physical violence as a means of "discipline" either. Aside from the antenna and "storage" incidents, she'd occasionally employ "percussive maintenance" at the beginning of his time with her in response to breaks in character or sullen comments. Once or twice, she burnt him with cigarettes in response to particularly "bad" offenses.

---

Vox's boss would give him gifts sometimes. Little presents wrapped up all pretty with a bow. Sometimes, they were for special occasions, like the anniversary of his "coming to live with her"; sometimes, they were "rewards for good behavior." Vox would accept the presents graciously and then never open them, leaving them to collect dust in his room. There were a few occasions when she made him open them in front of her, though. Usually, they were just quaint little trinkets or clothes, but once, she gifted him a goldfish (or the Hellish equivalent) in a tiny bowl. It was the closest she'd gotten to something he'd actually want, yet it still felt like a veiled taunt. It didn't take long for the fish to die; its bowl was simply too small.

---

Vox does his absolute best to keep his past a secret from everyone, particularly Valentino. He knows on some level that it wouldn’t really change anything other than give Val and Vel something else to tease him about, but Vox’s ego is so fragile that he feels like he’d die if they found out. Unfortunately for him, Valentino is incredibly observant when he wants to be. He doesn’t know the specifics, but based on various little things from throughout the years and the pointed insults he’s heard Alastor throw at Vox, he can guess that Vox’s early days in Hell were... less than auspicious. However, he assumes Vox was just some corporate toady, and he would be just as shocked as anyone else to learn how Vox actually began his afterlife.

---

Playing with the idea that Vox’s boss hired him with no ulterior motives; she simply thought he was cute and would be an easy source of entertainment. However, as time went on and she got a better sense of what kind of person Vox was, she began deliberately tormenting him. The abuse and humiliation started off under the pretext that she was only doing it to “correct an attitude problem,” but it soon became clear that her real issue with Vox had nothing to do with his abilities as a performer.

---

It doesn’t really fit with the “lore” I’ve been putting together for this AU, but the idea of Vox trying to go in for various media/performance auditions and either being laughed out of them or told to look into less dignified roles is compelling to me. He looks and sounds so much like a goofy little child; why on Earth would anyone even consider him, especially when there are countless other sinners looking for work whose forms aren’t so distractingly cutesy?

I’ll be honest: Babydoll from Batman TAS is a significant influence on how I conceptualize Proto Vox.

---

Reminds me of fakeannafromthebox's Caterpillar Val AU. Vox is so miserable. He wants to be back in his modified body NOW, but it's going to take a while for them to rebuild it. Val and Vel tease him about it at first... until they realize that Vox is genuinely really hurt by it. He never wanted them to see him like this.

The denizens of Hell are confused as to why Vox is suddenly on a month-long hiatus when he's literally never taken a break from the media before.

---

Been considering whether it should just be happenstance that brings Vox and Alastor together or if Vox should hit his breaking point, go behind his boss' back, and send Alastor a false message in her name, hoping that it will provoke him into killing her.

---

Had a mental image today of Vox sitting in on one of his boss’ conversations with a colleague, as per usual. He’s bored and miserable until the two overlords start discussing the Radio Demon. Vox has heard stories— might’ve even caught one or two of Alastor’s broadcasts— but he’s never heard him discussed like an actual person rather than an urban legend. Vox’s boss starts shittalking Alastor, and Vox suddenly gets an idea. He begins secretly recording her, capturing all her private complaints about him on tape. Vox is terrified of what she might do if she discovered what he was doing, but at this point, he's so good at masking his true emotions that she doesn’t even notice anything is off. Vox held onto that recording until he gained access to a communications device. He hesitated for a moment, thinking of all the ways this plan could go wrong and result in his permanent death, but… he couldn’t pass up this opportunity. He couldn’t bear to stay here any longer.

Alastor figured out it was Vox who sent him that message a couple years into their friendship, but he didn’t hold it against him. In fact, he was impressed with Vox’s determination, taking his fate back into his hands regardless of the risks. He eventually told Vox so himself when the topic came up years later.

---

Vox once made the mistake of snapping that he was not a child at one of his boss’ colleagues who had been talking about him like he was too stupid to understand what they were saying. Honestly, the momentary shock on the colleague’s face was not worth the ensuing, agonizing conversation where his boss muted him, apologized to the other overlord, then prompted them to try to guess his real age, and took far too much pleasure in explaining to them that despite Vox’s appearance, he was actually 41.

---

Thinking about Proto Vox sitting in on his boss' overlord meetings like the Egg Bois in episode 3. Most of the time, his boss would hold him in her lap like a doll, but sometimes, she'd leave him sitting on the ground until the meeting ended. He wished he had a way to put the information he was “eavesdropping” on to good use, but he wasn't allowed to leave the stupid compound without being accompanied by his boss.

---

One particularly dehumanizing experience Vox remembers far more vividly than he would like was the first time his overlord stripped him naked without his consent so she could redress him in a new outfit she’d picked out. This became a semi-frequent occurrence, but it never stopped making his skin crawl. This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to someone like him, and yet here he was, robbed not only of the freedom to choose his own clothes but even to dress himself if his boss so willed it.

Even over half a century later, Vox still needs to be coaxed and convinced by Valentino to surrender control during sex. He has no intention of ever telling Val why having someone else undress him puts him on edge.

---

cw sexual assault

The first time Vox’s overlord stripped him naked was also when she discovered that he had no genitals. Of course, she couldn’t let that fact go uncommented on and groped between his legs to confirm, cooing all the while about how perfect Vox was. Vox didn’t even have time to dissociate during the experience; it all happened so fast. Before he had time to process what happened, he was already being redressed in whatever stupid outfit she’d picked out for him that time. The dissociation came later.

In hindsight, Vox thinks it’s sort of darkly funny how he felt as though he’d been sexually assaulted despite not having any sex organs at the time. It’s really not.

---

Thank you!!!

Yeah, Vox is extremely uncomfortable with thinking of himself as a victim. It's easier to just compartmentalize the experience and tell himself that of course he wasn't sexually assaulted– sex wasn't even involved!

At the time, he had no idea how to feel about it. Before he even had time to process the event, he was expected to just move on with the day like nothing happened. Vox wished he could've just forgotten about it– it only lasted for a few seconds, it "didn't count" because he didn't have any genitals to grope, and, in his successful-white-1950s-man brain, groping wasn't even that bad anyway– but the feeling of violation lingered, no matter how hard he tried to dismiss it or distract himself. He eventually managed to push those feelings away, but the memory will still pop up on occasion and he'll have to convince himself all over again that it wasn't any different than all the other times his boss manhandled him.

---

Oh, I'm glad you liked the post!

Yeah, I can see Alastor giving that roach speech to Vox when he's trying to convince him to stop modifying himself. Vox is just like "You think I'm a bug???" He never noticed; he was too focused on the cartoon/TV thing. Message not received.

Alastor probably has weird feelings about the way Vox's old boss treated him. On one hand, it's kind of funny, and Alastor's clearly not opposed to treating people like pets, given his later relationship with Husk. On the other... he feels a weird sort of kinship with Vox in so many regards, and his relationship with his overlord... [leak discussion] it's uncomfortably similar to Alastor's with his contract holder– tricked into a bad deal, treated with condescension, and forced to pretend to adore them in public [end leak discussion]. Alastor likes the idea of helping Vox gain power and rise above his station, but not him changing himself in order to accomplish that goal– he sees too much of himself in Vox to stand that.

Vox doing ad reads/voiceovers for Alastor's show is a great idea. Perfect way to get back into the industry without opening himself up to mockery; plus, he's got a wonderful voice. Would also give him another reason to hate radio once he and Al split: audio-only work will always be a reminder of a time when he couldn't bear to be seen.

---

Might incorporate how long it’s taking me to come up with a name for Vox’s boss by making it so he’s only allowed to call her “Ma’am”/“Madam”/“Miss” instead of her actual sinner name.

---

Thoughts on Proto Vox in the RAM verse

Proto Vox thoughts that heavily feature my OCs

---

Once he finally gained the ability to project a functioning mouth onto his screen, Vox got himself into some… interesting situations trying to keep up with Alastor whenever they went out for drinks. He didn’t care that he was half Alastor’s size; he’s drinking just as much as he is! Maybe even more!!

Those were some of the funniest nights Alastor had (and still has) ever experienced.

---

Thinking about Vox, dead for a week or so, with cracks in his screen and dressed only in a button-up shirt he'd stripped off a corpse double his size, pitching himself to his soon-to-be overlord and trying not to come across as desperate as he truly was. The streets of Hell aren't kind to anyone, but especially not to defenseless-looking, newly arrived sinners with body parts that could potentially be resold. In his short time in Hell, Vox had already had multiple people try to strip him for parts and had only escaped them by the skin of his teeth. He'd barely been able to sleep since he arrived, constantly on guard for more attackers. He looked a fucking wreck, but that only added to his charm, in his boss' opinion. He looked like a starving Victorian orphan trying to give a serious business pitch– so cute!

---

Vox wishes he could feel comfortable in his bedroom at the compound. Being in there means he’s away from his overlord— that he can finally drop the act and just breathe. It’s a nice room, too, especially compared to the living quarters of most other employees. Vox feels as though the privacy and comfort should be enough. But… it isn’t really his room, is it?

His overlord chose the decor: soft and twee and old-fashioned. She can start pounding on the door, ordering him to come out and join her at any moment. The fact she’s too tall to fit in the room is small comfort. It feels like living in a dollhouse; there’s the illusion of privacy, but one wall is missing, allowing the owner to move things around or snatch up the doll inside at a moment’s notice.

---

Honestly, Vox's boss definitely got her "money's" worth out of Vox. He wasn't lying about being a multi-talented performer; he had a wide array of skills.

He had extensive training and experience with dance and comedy (although he was 25 years out of practice) from his childhood on Vaudeville. He was a consummate singer, good at improv, and familiar with a handful of instruments, particularly the piano. He could act fairly well (although he was always more convincing when he came up with stuff on the spot) and had even become a perfect mimic due to his demonic form.

Vox's overlord couldn't have asked for a better entertainer, and she counted herself lucky that he just happened to wander into her building one day looking for work– she didn't even need to place an ad!

Vox was proud of his various skills– he sure as hell hadn't spent years working himself to the bone to hone them for nothing, after all– but he missed being the host rather than the entertainment. He hadn't had to perform like this since he was a child, and it was just as exhausting as he remembered.

---

Vox's primary job was to be a jester for his overlord, but he was also somewhat of an assistant to her. He'd make or serve her and her guests drinks (alcohol, coffee, whatever), carry things for her (which would often be embarrassingly difficult, given his size), and run very minor errands for her (usually just delivering messages to employees a few doors down). Additionally, once she discovered that he could record audio, she started using him as a living tape recorder. She'd bring him to meetings, have him record the conversation without the other party knowing, and then play the audio back once they were in private so she could take note of the exact phrasing and use it against them later on. This last use for Vox ended up being her downfall; she kept him so cloistered that she never thought that he'd be able to use her own words against her one day.

---

Up until the incident where he tried to quit, Vox’s boss would sometimes casually threaten to replace him if he didn’t immediately bend to her will. There were countless other sinners and Hellborn that were perfectly capable of doing his job without an attitude problem; why shouldn’t she just trade him in for one of them? Or perhaps she should employ another entertainer to work alongside him (i.e. compete with him). If Vox thought he was too good for this job, then he could go back to the streets whenever he liked. These threats almost always succeeded in getting him to comply, and she was a bit disappointed when she realized they were no longer as effective as they’d once been.

---

Honestly, Vox’s boss getting another “pet” would be a whole shitshow. When Vox was alive, he once outed a coworker as gay because he was getting more airtime than him, which led to the coworker’s family institutionalizing him. And that was when the stakes were just career success. Vox may hate his job, but it’s what keeps him safe and alive. He’d feel so threatened by the new person that he’d probably end up getting them killed just to protect his position. His overlord is 100% aware of what's going on, but she gets a kick out of watching Vox do whatever it takes to stay in her favor.

---

Vox actually starts initiating affectionate interactions with her out of desperation not to be replaced. His boss (who lowkey only wanted make sure he didn’t grow complacent in his position) is delighted. The poor imp she hired has no idea what they’ve been sucked into. Vox is cold and hostile when they’re in private but then will turn on a dime the second he sees their overlord. Their boss is constantly doing subtle little things to pit them against each other, but the imp feels like they never truly had a chance of surpassing and replacing Vox. All the imp wants to do is make enough to feed their family, but in the end, all they get is being ripped in two by vines when Vox snitches on them for taking a few extra bucks from his boss’ desk.

---

In the modern day, Vox and Alastor disagree about how they met. Alastor will say that he rescued Vox from his overlord and took him in afterward. Vox will say (or rather, would say, since he never speaks about his past) that he rescued his damn self and chose to stick with Alastor because it was the best possible option at the time. Neither of them are wrong, but their mutual bitterness skews their perception of the situation; Vox, the "helpless charity case," and Alastor, the "means to an end."

---

velvette seeing the kind of clothes vox used to have to wear for work and just. vomiting on his behalf

---

Vox thought he was at a bit of an advantage when his soon-to-be boss offered him a simple deal sealed with a handshake: serve as an entertainer for her and she'll give him a safe place to live. Verbal agreements aren't as enforceable as written ones, and the vagueness of the deal left him plenty of room to wriggle his way out if need be!

What Vox didn't realize was that things in Hell don't work like they do on Earth. Sure, vague deals have loopholes, but it's the person with more power who's usually able to take advantage of them as opposed to the "victim." Additionally, written contracts have clauses– specific stipulations that must be abided by. If he'd negotiated things a bit more closely, he could've demanded that she allow him freedom of mobility or had to accept any attempts at a resignation. As is, she was able to keep him at her side at all times and threaten him into staying because there wasn't anything in the deal that said she couldn't do those things; as long as she was giving him a place to stay, she was upholding her end of the bargain.

Vox definitely remembered this lesson when he started drawing up contracts/deals of his own during his later endeavors. Deals can be just as binding as soul contracts. Vagueness is an invaluable tool when it comes to tricking people into bad deals, although granular specificity certainly has a place too, so long as you can get the sucker not to read the fine print.

---

Out of all the things Vox had to do to entertain his overlord, slapstick was his least favorite. It was just so undignified. He already hated having to play dumb and childish, but being the butt of the joke was so much worse than simply being doted on. He couldn’t stand being laughed at, but he didn’t have another choice; if his boss wanted comedy, he had to give it to her, otherwise he’d be punished. For as much baggage he had regarding dance, he would chose it over pretending to hurt himself (or genuinely hurting himself) for his boss’ amusement every time.

This hatred of being laughed at persisted even after he escaped his overlord’s clutches. Vox eventually learned to use his unthreatening appearance to his advantage, but back in the day, a good way to get your shit rocked by the Radio Demon’s tiny apprentice was to laugh at him when he wasn’t trying to be funny.

---

As of right now, Vox's sinner name has always been "Vox." He's eternally grateful that he'd already picked out his sinner name by the time he approached his overlord, because who knows what ridiculous name she would've saddled him with otherwise. However, if Vivziepop ever talks about Cockroach Vox and it turns out he didn't used to be named "Vox," then that name would've been the one he went by up until he met Alastor.

---

Vox was not an overly foul-mouthed person when he was alive, although he certainly wasn't afraid to swear if the situation called for it. However, that casual relationship with tasteful speech went completely out the window after he died. Aside from the in-built censor that kept him from audibly cursing or talking about subjects like sex, he now had a very restrictive persona that he needed to play into. Having to say shit like "Gee whiz" or "Golly" in order to keep up the "cute little cartoon" act was maddening. It was such a relief when Alastor figured out a way to shut off the censor; Vox finally had complete freedom in how he chose to speak again. Honestly, he may have gone a bit too far in the other direction, but given the culture of Hell, it's more unusual to be excessively clean with your speech than it is to swear every other sentence.

---

I wonder if any of the other, older overlords remember Vox from his early days. His boss had a habit of bringing him to meetings and having him perform at parties, so someone like Zestial would’ve probably encountered him at least a couple of times.

On one hand, Vox is beyond grateful that none of the old-timers recognize him as “Lantana’s little lapdog.” On the other, he’s slightly offended that no one paid him enough mind back then to remember him.

Zestial 100% knows who Vox used to be, he’s just choosing to keep that information to himself for the time being.

---

Thinking about a scenario where Vox gets stuck in a hopelessness spiral that causes him to break character in front of his boss. He asks her why she’s doing this to him; what does she get out of all this? Lantana is annoyed by his self-pity and asks him if he has any idea how lucky he is.

Oh, poor Vox, forced to live in the lap of luxury. Condemned to perform wholesome little routines for one of the most powerful overlords in the city while other sinners (female and male) have to prostitute themselves to survive. What an awful fate, having to let her spoil him, love him. Countless sinners would kill to have half of what he has, and here he is complaining because his ego is too fragile to handle not being “in charge” anymore. She’s shocked he’s so ungrateful that he can’t appreciate the gift she’s given him; childhood is a beautiful thing, after all.

Vox knows it’s all lies— she enjoys humiliating him, forcing him to smile through gritted teeth as he plays the demeaning role she’s picked out for him— but after years in her clutches, a small, animal part of his brain wonders if she’s right. Is she being honest when she says she only hurts him to correct him? Does she actually believe that taking away his freedom and keeping him in a gilded cage is love? Is he really better off here than he would be out in the world, struggling to force people to see him as the man he really was used to be?

No. No, he can’t let her get in his head like this. He’s had to give up so much of himself to her; she can’t have his thoughts too. Just don’t say anything. Let her think she’s made him second-guess himself. Don’t allow her to wrestle what little control he has left from his grasp.

---

Vox’s slogan, “Trust us!” started off as “Trust me!” After a while with Alastor, Vox learned to start playing into his harmless appearance in order to gain people’s trust, only to lead them to their deaths or otherwise betray them later on. Most people thought he was either a literal child, stupid, or so weak that they could easily overpower him if need be, so it was easy for him to convince them to let their guards down. Vox managed to get his first few contracts using this method. Trust him! He couldn’t hurt a fly, honest!

Alastor loved this routine, not only because it was hilarious to watch people unknowingly dig their own graves, but because it was useful to him as well. Alastor’s reputation had become so fearsome that it was difficult to get people to stick around long enough to ensnare unless they were truly desperate. It was helpful to have Vox around to lure people in, or to just run errands that would’ve otherwise been a pain due to people’s annoying habit of fleeing at the sight of him. They were a good team, he and Vox; Alastor couldn’t understand why he would choose to give that up in order to become an off-brand copy of him. Yes, it wasn’t the most dignified niche, but it was an important one! And one that very few could pull off even half as well as Vox!

---

Random thought: Vox’s original voice made it impossible for others to tell whether he was a child or an adult. He didn’t quite sound like a real child, but his voice was pitched in such a way that he didn’t read as an adult either— sort of like when adult voice actors play kids. Vox could still hear Himself in certain inflections and in moments when he was allowed to drop the act, but it was extremely alienating, never truly feeling like himself even when he was doing something as simple as speaking.

---

I don’t subscribe to the “Valentino started off with his own abusive pimp” theory (not because I think it’s implausible, it’s just that my HC version of him only worked under the previous overlord of the sex trade for like a year before killing them), plus I think Vox and Val met after Vox was already somewhat established, but whoo-boy, the two of them meeting while they’re both still under the thumbs of their respective abusive bosses would be fun.

---

Two concepts:

Vox’s boss brings him along to an overlord party that Val happens to be performing at. Some drunk dumbass picks him up and shoves him onto the platform where Val was pole dancing— they thought it’d be funny to make the sexless little clown interact with the dirty whore. That was Vox and Val’s first meeting. (Loosely inspired by some of kibbles-bits’ art)

Vox and Val’s respective bosses start up a casual relationship, resulting in the two of them visiting each other’s bases semi-frequently. They get to talking and eventually come to realize that, holy shit, the other guy is an actual person?? And a fun/interesting/clever person too???

---

Vox: Yeah, my #%$!@ of a boss makes me sleep with her sometimes. Val: Ohhhh, me too! Well, at least Mantis Bitch is sexy~ Vox: What? No, I mean she literally makes me sleep in the same bed as her. Like kids do with stuffed dolls. Val: …Huh. Well, I guess that must be somebody’s kink. Vox: $?*@&€# %*¥=…

---

Self-indulgent 4 am whump thought (cw involuntary surgery)

what if proto vox spawned with his childhood leg injury intact? it’s usually not an issue as long as he doesn’t exert himself, but his new job requires him to spend most of the day standing and perform physically intense routines for his boss. for the first several weeks, he doesn’t let on that he’s in pain since he’s terrified of being thrown back out on the streets, but eventually, either his boss confronts him about why he’s suddenly developing a limp or he makes the mistake of mentioning it to her himself, hoping he can convince her to be a bit more restrained with her orders. either way, when vox explains that he’s had this issue since he was a child and that there’s no way to get rid of it, lantana just casually says that she’ll see to it, no problem. vox is concerned by her self-assured tone, but when he asks her what she meant, she abruptly changes the subject with a finality that tells him this is not a matter to be debated.

for the next week, vox is left wondering what she intends on doing. just as he was starts to forget about it, he gets his answer. one day, vox wakes up to find himself in an operating room-turned workshop, held to the table by a few flimsy straps and a nurse(?) gently restraining him. there’s no need to be frightened! they’re just going to see if there’s anything they can do to fix his leg, that’s all. vox tries to reign in his panic as the head doctor examines his leg, but it soon reaches a fever pitch when it’s determined they can repair the damage! by replacing the “bone.”

it’s painful, having someone saw through several layers of his wires, but not as painful as vox imagined it would be. the horror of watching it happen, though, makes it all so much worse. watching someone reach into the mess of his leg and slowly pull out a long, metal rod is like something out of a nightmare. the “surgeons” measure and examine the rod (his bone), then cut a replacement to his size and insert it back into his leg. his wires (his flesh) quickly knit back together with only a bit of help from the doctors, and suddenly vox is back on his feet, being told to return to work as though he didn’t just watch his own leg “bone” be forcibly cut out and replaced.

it taught him that his body could be modified. he never had to deal with his old injury again. vox chooses to focus on these things rather than the absolute terror he felt watching them operate on his leg. he doesn’t need (doesn’t want) to think about the experience itself, only the outcome.

---

3am thought: Vox at the beginning of his employment, trying to figure out what his boss’ limits are and what he can get away with. He’s not thrilled that her idea of “entertainment” seems to mostly consist of song, dance, and comedy, so he starts trying to engage her in conversation instead. Vox is a great conversationalist, and he knows it. His plan is to pull her in, convince her that they have some kind of genuine connection, and then use that to his advantage. That plan is dashed though when, after two or three attempts at engaging her in substantial, adult conversation, she cuts him off and briskly tells him that she didn’t hire him for his conversational skills, she hired him to entertain. If she wanted to hear him speak, she would tell him, but right now, it’d be prudent of him to shut up and do as he’d been told.

---

Random wondering: What would it take for Vox to finally snap? Or would he just become so good at staying in-character that he appears to have snapped/given up to everyone around him?

Idea: Alastor acquiring Vox after he’s cracked and fully given into his boss after decades in her service. It’s only with Alastor that Vox slowly starts pulling himself back together, allowing elements of his original/real personality to re-emerge. Alastor doesn’t even mean to do this; he just treats Vox with a modicum more respect than he’s used to and gives him positive feedback when he acts more like himself. Vox idolizes Alastor for “saving him from madness,” so of course he flies off the handle when they have their falling out.

---

Vox was lucky his body operated on rubber hose physics. The size difference between him and his boss was so extreme that if it didn’t, she could’ve easily shattered his bones (if he had any) or dislocated his limbs, simply by handling him too roughly. All the better. She was usually fairly gentle, but since she knew she could treat him like a rag doll, occasionally, she did. It hurts, dangling in the air by the arm while the person holding you gives you whiplash every time they move too suddenly, but not as much as it would for an organic demon.

---

Three random thoughts:

1) I checked, and the height-difference between Proto Vox and his boss (and Valentino) is directly proportional to that of the tallest and smallest women in the world.

2) Shirley Temple would probably be a good inspiration for Proto Vox’s style of performance.

3) It could be interesting to play with the way Vox’s innocent and wholesome persona would interact with Hell’s general culture. Lantana kept him pretty desexed and infantilized while at “home,” but when she made him perform for groups, the comedy of the routine would be derived from contrast. Most demons wouldn’t get the appeal of his usual schtick played straight, but contrast that cutesy shit with Hell’s usual fixations (sex, profanity, and violence)? Now there’s something worth laughing about. It’s like teasing a fallen cherub.

---

the mental image of lantana telling vox to “go play” at a party will not leave me

“darling” “baby” “sweetheart” “dear”

i am slowly giving in to the whump urges

---

random fact: the way vox is treated by his boss in this au is heavily inspired by the way some imps (particularly the smaller ones) seem to be treated in the hellaverse

---

thinking about the first time lantana struck vox.

it was just so unexpected. vox could hardly even remember the last time someone had hit him— maybe when he was a rowdy young twenty-something? his parents had occasionally struck him as a child, but that was rare.

a week or two before, he’d made a comment that was a bit too sullen for her liking and she’d suddenly grabbed his arm, striking it once with an object like a schoolteacher with a misbehaving student. it’d caught vox off guard, but it was more shocking than painful, and lantana instantly moved on like nothing had happened. he didn’t expect things to escalate so quickly.

he spoke out of turn— that’s what prompted it. he’d been listening to his boss discuss business matters with an associate, and he’d tried throwing in his two cents. it was still early on; vox was testing what he could and couldn’t get away with and had thought the two of them might find his feedback worthwhile. he was wrong. he’d only gotten a couple words out before he was suddenly knocked to the floor by a blow from one of his boss’ lower arms. she didn’t even say anything, just returning to her conversation while he was left stunned on the ground.

when the colleague finally left, lantana picked vox up, sat him on her desk so they were at least somewhat closer to eye level, and laid out exactly what she expected from him from now on. he would not speak unless spoken to when in the company of others; she brought him along to these meetings to be visual stress relief, not to participate. on that note, he would not talk to her about business at all. she had no interest in his opinions, and going forward, she would not hesitate to discipline him if he kept trying to stick his nose where it didn’t belong. finally, and most importantly, he needed to remember his role. he was there to entertain her— to be a sweet, silly little distraction from the stresses of overlordship, and she expected him to act like it. it didn’t matter if she wasn’t playing with him right at that very moment, he was still “on the clock.” amuse her when she wasn’t busy, sit quietly and look cute when she was, and above all, stay in character. she would strike him as many times as was necessary in order to get that through his head, and would throw him out if he still refused to comply.

lantana asked if she was understood, and vox, terrified of returning to the streets, agreed. he left the room hating her, but also felt a strange, unwanted sense of embarrassment that he had overstepped to the point where she decided she “needed to” hit him. he should’ve known better. this woman was not to be “trusted” any more than she was to be manipulated.

---

Random thought: Proto Vox's unofficial theme would be "Make 'Em Laugh" from Singin' in the Rain

---

was thinking about female or trans male proto vox recently and got to wondering what lantana would be like in that scenario since i've made gender dynamics such a big part of her character. came up with a few different options.

---

#Just infuriating things about being three feet tall in a world where the average height is 6’6: door knobs.

Vox had three options when encountering a closed door back in his early days: knock and hope someone on the other side heard him, ask a nearby person to open it for him (which always made his skin crawl), or try to figure out a way to reach it on his own. The worst was when someone saw him struggling to reach the door knob, took pity on him, and opened the door for him, usually with a condescending comment tacked on at the end. It was such a blessing once he finally unlocked his electricity/teleportation powers and didn't have to deal with that crap anymore.

---

Random cheesy idea: Three moments in Vox’s life when the phrase “children should be seen and not heard” was relevant. The first is a time his parents applied it to him, the second is a time he said it about his own children, and the third is his boss using it against him in Hell.

---

thinking about option 2 vox. she says something snappish to her boss about not being a child. next time they go out, the clothes lantana gives her to wear are different than usual: clothes that are exactly to her taste from back when she was alive. they're somewhat oversized.

vox looks ridiculous with her stylish, refined dress hanging awkwardly on her sexless wooden frame. she's sliding around in too-large heels, and the gloves reach all the way to her shoulders, sagging pitifully around her arms. she looks like a child playing dress up; a little girl wearing her mother's clothes. it was like a slash to the heart, seeing herself like this; knowing that even if she had the freedom to choose how she dressed, she would always look like a joke.

the cocktail dress and heels got her laughed at and mocked more than usual. the pinafores and bows just made people gush about how adorable she was sometimes. it was easy to see which was the better option.

it was years before vox felt comfortable enough to start occasionally dressing her age again. alice wouldn't mock her for choosing to dress as an adult. she'd mock her for a whole lot of other things, but at least they were never tied to her appearance (aside from her peculiar modern head, of course!).

---

I know I said this verse’s Vox died while trying to fix a TV, but what if he still got electrocuted on set, but instead of a quick little zap, there was a massive, cartoonish explosion

---

Idea regarding the "storage" incident: The thing that prompted that confrontation was another overlord/business associate showing an interest in Vox. They were involved in the movie industry and thought they could put him to good use in their films, so they asked Lantana if they could purchase him or even just rent him out for a bit. Vox was thrilled– finally, a chance to get back into the industry and out of this fucking building! And it'd just fallen right into his lap! He immediately tried to say "yes," but Lantana cut him off and turned down the offer. She had no intention of giving him up, so she wouldn't let him get away that easily. Vox was pissed when she said "no." He usually held his tongue when his boss did something that upset him, but he was not about to let this person who didn't even own his soul take away this opportunity. He dropped his cutesy persona, demanded she give him a reason he couldn't go, and then tried to accept the other overlord's offer. Lantana sharply grabbed him by the arm, saying something along the lines of "Because you still haven't learned to do as you're told." She denied her now rather uncomfortable associate once again and asked them to leave. Vox tried to shout to them as they turned to leave, but Lantana just muted him, then started twisting his antenna when he tried to unmute himself. Once the other overlord was gone, Vox exploded at Lantana and tried to quit right then and there, but of course, she wasn't going to let that happen. Once he was let out of "storage," Vox was too scared of what else she might do to him to try to quit/escape again (at least, not openly).

#redlady speaks #proto vox au #hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox hazbin #vox the tv demon #2013 vox #cockroach vox #alastor #radiosilence #radiostatic

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a-simple-imagine · 1 year ago

Text

Bigender asian with pronoun fuckery

synopsis: you're a rising star at godu. just cracked the top ten but a budding relationship with jordan li may bring everything crumbling down

pairing: jordan li x fem!reader

words: 5.2k+

a/n - not sure how i feel about this but i am putting it out there. if this gets enough attention, I can work on another part that goes a little deeper?? I use all pronouns for Jordan but mainly they/them

WARNINGS - swearing and drug use

a groggy groan slips past your lips as you bury your face further into the gentle embrace of the pillow. it is early. too early. you have no clue what time it actually is but whatever the case may be, you weren't ready for the day to start just yet. it takes a moment to realise you're alone in this bed. you hadn't been when you fell asleep. it doesn't bother you too much though. they're probably just getting ready. that is until you hear a curse word muttered quietly; perhaps an attempt to not disturb you or maybe they just wanted to hide their frustration. "what are you doing?" your words half muttered into the pillow.

"rankings are out." that was it? rankings? you sometimes forget how competitive they can be. it's not like you're not interested. you've wanted that top spot since freshman year. alas, golden boy holds that spot and you'd never be a pretty blonde white boy if you tried. this semester you've been working extra hard. Everyone knows you're in the best chance of scoring a city contract if you can break the top ten but the seven? they want the best of the best. sure it's not impossible to be lower and also become part of the team, the deep managed it, but that was an anomaly. most supes just end up as walking advertisements for vought. and as much as you may enjoy the occasional acting class. you weren't here to end up on some CW show or a Netflix special. you were gonna make it into the seven. you were gonna prove to everyone that you are one of the best.

"who cares," you mumble, rolling onto your back and spreading your arms out wide.

"oh, so you don't care that you're now second."

"come back to bed." you urge. a silence seals the room until your brain catches up to what it just heard. did they say second? as in second place? as in one spot away from first? you didn't mishear that. sitting up, you eventually spy a feminine presenting Jordan sitting at her desk, illuminated by the blue glow of their tablet. their short bob falls to one side. a perfect backdrop for such a pretty face "Are you fucking with me?" they don't bother responding just shove the tablet out in your direction. grabbing it you see your school ID photo with a massive '#2' next to it. you blink a few times. scroll down a little. refresh the page. but again it's still there. it was real. "fuck"

"My thoughts exactly," Jordan reacts. you glimpse at them wondering what that comment means. it could merely be a jest or a reflection of their current mood. you take a moment to look at the rest of the list in search of their name. they were no longer top three. you found them sitting nicely at number five. double fuck. you had taken their spot. they're still top ten which most would be happy with but not Jordan. tossing the tablet aside, you drop back against the bed. letting your eyes fall closed. "we have class in like an hour."

"I don't need to go to class. I'm number two now," you press.

"not how that works," A dramatic groan falls past your lips, pulling the covers up over your head. bed sounded better than a morning lecture. you wish they would just join you or leave you be. "get out of my bed." Jordan huffs after a moment. "we're gonna be late." you don't move. you frankly don't care. "if you don't hurry up, no breakfast."

"fucks sake." you whine, emerging from beneath the darkness of the duvet. "fine. I'll let you buy me Jitterbean."

"thought so," they offer you a tight smile. you could never say no to a free treat before class. "chop-chop."

Drink in one hand, pastry in the other, you're feeling brighter as you stroll into class. Jordan trails behind you. they'd been usually quiet on the walk over. you put it down to all the attention you were attracting today. couldn't even walk across campus without people asking for pictures or saying hi. you weren't sure you liked it just yet but for right now it was fine. when you spot cate you offer a scrunched up smile which she quickly returns. you and cate had been friends since day one. something just clicked. "there she is," cate starts as you approach your usual spot in class. "the girl of the hour. you're literally all anyone can talk about."

"aren't i always," you tease.

"we're going out tonight"

"are you asking-" you begin as Dean Shetty strides into the room. guess brink was out today. "or telling me?"

"telling," cate's smile quirks up before she turns to focus on the class. guess that was the end of that conversation.

you linger by your desk as everyone else filters out of the room after class. Dean Shetty requested a word. you can't imagine what it's about. surely she isn't that bothered by your attempts at chatting through her lecture. you offer up an awkward little smile as you push off the desk you were leaning against; slowly making you way across the room. "so what have I done wrong?"

"you mean other than talking through the entire class," you internally cringe a little. maybe she was bothered by all the whispering. she watches you for a moment before continuing. "it is nothing like that. don't worry."

"then why am I here?"

"I just thought we should have a little chat." your brow furrows. what did you and the dean of an entire university have to discuss? was this about your ranking? was she about to tell you there had been a mistake? "I believe congratulations are in order- such an extensive jump in ranking, you must be proud."

this felt like a conversation that could have been an email. "sure. thanks." you shrug. you're not really sure what to say. of course, you're proud. you were the second highest ranked student in a school of exceptional kids. "is that all?"

"no," her head shakes a little. I wanted to make sure you understand the gravity of the position you're in." when you don't respond she decides to just continue. "being a superhero is about more than just your abilities. it's also about how you present yourself. people care about you. they wanna know what you're doing. who you're hanging out with. One minute you're taking a picture with a nice girl you met at a party the next you're fighting nazi allegations for hanging out with a white supremacist. do you get what I'm saying?"

you shrug. "don't hang out with nazis, got it."

"I'm saying you need to look at yourself more like a brand. Be careful about what you say and who you spend your time with. you're the sum of the people around you."

"I know. I took branding." everyone knew how this worked. being a good person only took you so far and if homelander was anything to go off, that doesn't even matter that much. it's all about how you market yourself. it's about how many followers you have. how much attention you can get. inevitably, how much money can you make for Vought? Dean Shetty smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"you do want to be number one, correct?" you nod a little. "I want to help you get to the top but only if you wanna help yourself."

"what about Luke?"

"he is far from my concern right now." what did that even mean? "so?"

you hesitate. you did want this but you weren't entirely sure what you were agreeing to here. If Dean Shetty can help you secure first place though, maybe it was worth the risk. she was an expert here. should you even bother questioning why the sudden interest in you? "I want this."

"Good," her smile seemed more genuine now. "I know you can go far, just keep in mind what I said."

"I will," you start edging towards the stuff you left on your desk. "thanks."

"also try listening during lectures. I'm sure you and Miss Dunlap can talk some other time."

"Sorry." with that you practically run out of the classroom before she can continue talking.

it's a particularly chilly night smushed in the back seat of an old car. bright lights zoom past the window and music blasts through the speakers. you're not really paying attention to the noise around you. it's a mess of meaningless conversation. Dean Shetty's words play over in your head. She certainly would not approve of this little venture out into the night past curfew; what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. Jordan eventually pulls your attention; in his hand, he holds two small red pills. you don't really question it before popping one into your mouth. a second for later. tonight was gonna be fun or if nothing else you can abuse enough substances to pretend. the secret location is just a massive warehouse. on the outside, you'd think it any old thing. inside you find massive tanks of rainbow fish, long sweeping curtains, jester-themed masquerade masks and other eccentric decor. it is the most random selection and yet it works so well. creates the perfect balance of sexy and mysterious but inviting. you find yourself in a booth with your friends all around. "so how's being number two going for ya?" Andre asks. "feeling the pressure yet?"

"I don't know," you shrug. "people are weird."

"what do you mean?" Luke questions.

"Dean Shetty said some things to me after class."

"-I come bearing gifts." Jordan appears, now in their feminine form with a couple of drinks followed by Marie. "courtesy of the young gentleman at the bar."

"What did Dean Shetty say?"

"it doesn't matter." you shrug it off. "two will never be one right."

"has it not hit yet?" Jordan wonders.

"i know what it's like to suddenly have all this pressure on you but try not to think about it much," Luke reassures you. "just keep doing what you're doing. you've got this."

"my guy. you're supposed to be happy here," Andre leans forward slapping his hand against your leg. "we're out here celebrating you, dude. cheer up."

"I'm plenty happy," you grumble sinking further into your seat. you appreciate their attempt to cheer you up but it's honestly not needed. you're happy to be in second place even with all the newly founded pressure; just a little confused about what was expected of you. "ecstatic even. let's talk about something else."

your head feels fuzzy. nothing feels real anymore. but it's good. great even. you feel so fucking good. like you've rid yourself of every lingering thought that wrapped itself around your body. you're light. you're free. the shimmering blue of the giant fish tanks is so mesmerising; you almost want to climb in but instead, you watch. colours morphing and shifting before your eyes. back and forth. back and forth. you jump a little as something touches your shoulder. "here you are." their words seem distant; muffled even. "you good?" you nod a little continuing to stare at the fish. two hands slip around your waist and connect in front. you feel their body press into yours from behind. you know it's Jordan. you know they're masc. You know them well. their smokey cologne. the way their body feels around you. the subtle differences between both forms. taller. bigger. firm. you let out a content hum. it's a rarity for such open affection. "what are you doing?" whispered in your ear.

"Just watching the fish,"

"why?"

"do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a fish?" you wonder softly. "to just swim around all day without a care in the world… no complex family systems. no pressure to be the best. just… swimming and pretty colours." their chuckle is temperate. affectionate. it almost seems like they somehow get closer.

"you're fucked, huh?"

"I'm good. I'm great," you respond. they just chuckle again, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder. your relationship with Jordan was hardly one of romance. you have slept together. a few times actually. and some kind of feelings are there; at least for you there are but you're not dating. you're just… having fun. maybe you want more. who knows? you don't. would they even want more? probably not. you'd like it. maybe. doesn't matter. they make you feel warm. safe even. and that's all that really matters.

"shall we get you a drink?" you nod a little. "yeah?"

"yeah," you repeat nodding more eagerly. a dopey smile settling on your lips as you let your head fall back; nuzzling against him. "something fruity, please."

"let's get you something fruity," arms vacate your waist replaced with a hand in yours.

"bye fishies," you throw a wave back. "say bye Jordan."

"Absolutely not." they interlock your fingers before leading the way back into the turbulent crowd of the club.

"you're no fun." you groan playfully. weaving through the mass of people back towards the bar, you come across cate. as you approach, Jordan let's go.

"you found her then," shouted over the heavy bass and mess of voices.

"she was alone staring at the fish tanks," they respond.

"the fish were really pretty," you contribute with a bright smile.

"you gotta stop running off, silly."

"but the fishies-"

"I know they're pretty but still," cate continues. "do you wanna come dance?"

"hmmm… yes." you respond brightly. "jordan's gonna get me a drink. jordan get cate one too."

"yeah Jordan, get cate one too." cate repeats playfully. her hand slides into yours and she pulls you towards the dance floor. it's a lot of blurred colours as you sway and move alongside the blonde. she wears a playful smile and smells so good. really sweet. like freshly baked cookies. "are you good?"

"mhmm,"

"you sure?" it's so loud out here. there are so many people around you. it's hard to pick up what is being said.

"I am so good, cate," you respond loudly. "I mean definitely fucked but yeah. are you good?"

"yeah," she nods. "I'm-" the rest of her sentence is impossible to comprehend.

"what?"

cate places her hands on your shoulders bringing you to a stop as she leans in extra close. "i said i'm proud of you."

"you're starting to sound like my mom," you joke. she playfully hits your arm. "but thank you."

"i think you could actually take luke's spot."

"i definitely can." you declare proudly. "dean shetty offered to help."

"really?" cate seems shocked by the idea. "why?"

you shrug. "i'm gonna be in the seven one day." you yell loudly. nobody cares. everyone is being loud. it'd drowned out by everything else. cate stares at you for a moment before letting her smile return.

"fuck yeah, you are," cate shouts. your smile brightens. fuck yeah, you are.

your head pounds with the weight of your bad decisions. maybe you went a little too hard. Nausea settles deep in the pit of your stomach. you think you're gonna throw up. you don't. you breathe deeply through it. a long groan forces its way past your lips as you roll onto your back; stretching out your limbs as far as they go to very little relief. A pain radiates from your left leg. god only knows why. you're just a little achy. how did you even get here? the last thing you remember is dancing with Cate; having fun.

"she's alive," the voice catches you off guard. it sounds like… wait. your eyes finally focus on the person in the room who definitely wasn't your roommate. that black hair. that pretty face. the effortless expression of too cool to be here. jordan li is still in the exact same outfit as last night. why were they here? "how's our newest celebrity?"

there were many ways you could answer but your brain could only come up with. "shitty."

"I bet," they approach the end of your bed, holding out a glass of water. "here."

you slowly push yourself up into a seated position. trying desperately to ignore the intense pressure building in your head. "why are you here?" you ask, accepting the glass and taking a long, big gulp.

"Jordan stayed all night," your roommate, Beth, interjects. By her tone, she was not happy with your newfound company. "would have been nice to know."

"I'm allowed to have people in our room, Beth." you hand the glass back to Jordan before falling back down against the bed. rubbing your eyes with your thumb and forefinger. "I wanna die."

"tell me next time." Beth continues to argue. "instead I wake up to a stranger in our room."

you groan loudly. this was too much talking for your poor delicate head to handle right now. "I'm right here, guys," Jordan insists. "I literally spoke to you last night."

"I'm making a point." your roommate argues. "I'd like a heads up."

"gooooood! okay- sorry," you groan. you really don't care this much

"Okay, well, I gotta go," Jordan hums. "wasn't supposed to stay this long just wanted to make sure you're cool."

"I'm fine. go," you wave a dismissive hand as your eyes flutter close. "thanks for getting me home."

"any time," their weight leaves the bed and you roll onto your side to face the wall. pulling the duvet closer around your body. "I'll text you- bye Beth."

"bye Jordan." you hear the door click and an uncomfortable silence fills the room. it's preferable to the loud conversation that just happened. it's a relief to your head. you just want to go back to sleep. "they must really like you."

urgh. you don't want to talk anymore. "yeah, jordans cool."

"no, I mean, they like you," Beth continues on. you bury yourself further into your cocoon of pillows and duvet. "stayed the whole night just to keep an eye on you. I said it was fine- you'd be fine but they insisted."

Jordan insisted? just how fucked up were you that Jordan li of all people would stay the night just to make sure you were okay? you guys were good friends but most of the time they were either bullying you or treating you like a child which is like a subset of bullying you. you remember them wrapping their arms around you as you watched the fish last night. you've seen Jordan's softer side obviously but yeah. "we're just friends, dude."

"All I know is that Jordan li, as far as I've seen and heard, would not do that for just anyone. they're into you."

"sure. fine. whatever." you growl. you just wanted this conversation to end. Jordan was cool but if you think about this for too long your head is gonna explode. right now, sleep was what you needed. "Jordan Li is in love with me. I'm going back to sleep." it's hard not to think about what Beth suggested. that Jordan was into you as more than just a friend and occasionally fuck buddy. is that something you should talk about? What if Beth was wrong and you bring it up and it makes things super weird? you can't handle that. you have like a million classes together, you would never be able to escape them.

it was a bright sunny day in the quad of Godolkin University. you sit in the courtyard. a laptop, criminology textbooks and a water bottle spread across the table. you have an essay due in a few days. you had sat down to work on this essay multiple times with a beautiful blank document and many hours on TikTok to show for it. "hey," your TikTok time is interrupted by none other than Jordan Li. you had not seen them since that night or morning. you hadn't really spoken either. you weren't avoiding them by any means. you were just busy and they hadn't seemed too eager to talk so. "hey," they say after a moment. "how's the essay going?"

"so great," you flash a smile. "I've written so much."

"that good, huh," they joke awkwardly taking a sip of their coffee. you just hum in response. you need to get this done. no time to add Jordan to the list of distractions. after a few moments of silence, they speak up again. "I was hoping we could talk

"Can this wait? I really need to get this done."

"I guess…" Jordan trailed off. you look at him for a moment. he seems disheartened by your request.

"what's up?"

"it… doesn't matter. don't worry." a small smile settles on their lips. "I should go."

"you sure?"

Jordan pushes up from their seat. "I'll see you later."

that was weird. definitely something you need to come back to later when you're not working on a deadline. for now, you had an essay to, at the very least, start.

"Have you spoken to Jordan recently?" you ask Cate as you slide into a booth at the on-campus Vought - a - burger. the smell of deep-fried food hangs heavy in the air and you know damn well this table is probably gonna be sticky as hell. "I feel like they're ignoring me."

"What makes you think that?"

"the fact that they're quite literally ignoring me. I've text them a couple times and nothing. even in class, they can hardly look at me." you reach into the bag to pull out the food; placing it on napkins in front of you. cate hands you your drink in exchange for her order. "I feel bad. they tried to talk to me the other day but I wanted to get my essay done."

"they've seemed fine to me but I've been working on a project for my hero management class." Cate shrugs. "is this about what happened the other night?"

"what happened the other night?" you questioned, popping a fry into your mouth. it actually tasted fresh and salty; guess you came at the correct time. you hate it when they're all soggy.

"I don't know if it's my place to say- you were pretty high."

"did I do something… bad?" you didn't remember that night but you never imagined you would ever do something inappropriate.

"no. not bad." you can tell she regrets bringing this up; whatever this is. torn between wanting to help and not overstepping boundaries. She is about to continue when two girls approach the table. freshmen you presume. you've never seen them before.

"Can we get a selfie?" the taller of the two requests. you frown a little.

"we're actually trying to have a private con-"

"it'll just take a minute," they turn around and hold the camera out, snapping a picture before you have a chance to react. "thanks." they scurry off almost immediately. you'll probably find yourself tagged in a picture on Instagram later. it had been happening a lot recently; so much so that you had to turn notifications off.

"the fuck?" you share a confused look with Cate. "people are so rude."

"they're just excited. you're basically a celebrity to them," Cate chuckles.

"do you think Jordan hates me now?" you wonder bringing the conversation back to Li.

"it's probably just because of the rankings."

"you mean because I took their spot?"

"Jordan has always been pretty intense when it came to rankings. they've wanted that top spot for as long as I've known them." Cate explains, hiding her mouth as she shoves more food into her mouth. "must suck that you just jumped to two and have the dean in your corner no less." you never really considered how Jordan must be handling all this. you knew they'd be a little upset but this seemed extreme.

"I never really thought about that," you sigh softly. "should I apologise?"

"I don't know," Cate resumes, biting the head off some fries. "if you think it'd help."

"I don't know why they didn't just tell me that when we first found out," you frown a little. "they were a little distant but they seemed cool when we went out."

"maybe you should just try talking to them," Cate suggests, picking up her drink. She takes a swift sip before continuing. "if it's about rankings or the other night- I don't know. only Jordan does."

"what happened the other night?" you ask again.

"ask Jordan."

"I'm asking you, Cate."

"you were just a lot and said some things."

"Cate!" you huff, falling back. you know Cate well. you know when she's avoiding something. "I know you're being cryptic so I give up on it."

"it's just not my place. it's between you and Jordan. I don't wanna get in the middle." Cate presses sharply. "did you get your essay done?"

"no," you shake your head. "I ended up getting an extension- how am I supposed to speak to them when they're ignoring me?"

"i don't know- can we please talk about something else?" Cate pleads.

"Sure," you hum softly. taking another fry you dip it into some sauce. "let's talk about how I'm about to fail criminology."

you text Jordan that you're coming over. It wasn't a question but a statement. no option to refuse. you needed to sort this out and being direct was the best approach. did every inch of your body buzz with anxiety as you made your way towards their dorm room? yes. but it beat constantly thinking about every little interaction you had with Jordan in the past week trying to figure out exactly what you had done wrong. the only blank spot was that night and Cate had unintentionally convinced you that you had done something absolutely awful. maybe you told them you hate them or invalidated their identity in some way? fuck. you swallow hard staring at their closed door. you shake out the nerves before knocking. knock. knock. knock. and the door swings open to reveal Jordan. "hey," they hum before retreating into the safety of their dorm. shutting the door behind you, you step inside the all too familiar space; you had been here a great many times and yet today there was a weird vibe. it felt foreign. cold even. "so what did you wanna talk about?" for a split second you almost forgot why you were here. you turn to Jordan who is sitting on the couch, a laptop thrown off to the side now. your eyes fall to the homelander Vought-a-burger toy that has somehow become a staple of this room. leader of the seven. currently facing major allegations. "you good?"

"Are you mad at me?" you blurt out. "is it about the rankings? I know they mean a lot to you and I basically took your spot so I get it if you're mad. it's a little unfair because I've always wanted this too but like I get it." your rambling but you can't help yourself. you need to get this all out as quickly as possible before your brain catches on and you chicken out. "And I'm sorry about the other day, I just really needed to get my essay done. I ended up getting an extension because I was so stressed out about it, I just couldn't start." you can't bring yourself to look at them. "or if I did something shitty on that night out. I'm sorry. it was fucked-"

"whoa dude, chill out," Jordan ultimately interrupts. "you're talking a lot." you dare a glance at them. their face is pretty neutral so you have no clue what was going on in their head. "what are you even asking?"

"why are you avoiding me?" you ask. "I've clearly done something wrong."

a heavy sigh leaves their lips as they fall back against the plush fabric. "I'll admit I was a little annoyed with the rankings at first but I'm working on it. this is like a really big deal for you."

"so you're not mad at me?" you sound so pathetic. an even bigger sigh leaves their lips. you're not sure what that means but nobody sighs that heavily for good reason. they push to their feet, crossing the room towards you.

"I'm not mad at you," they say softly as they approach. for a second they hold your gaze as they linger close but then they flicker away. "I'm just… confused."

"About what?" they take a step closer. so close. too close. their hot breath pricks at your skin but you don't dare move away. you almost feel drawn to them.

"Is this okay?" they say quietly.

"Are you only doing this so we'll stop talking about it?" their head shakes just a little.

"no," their hand graces over your neck and up to the bottom of your jaw. Their thumb gently brushes your skin, sending a chill down your spine. there would always be something about Jordan Li that made you melt inside. when they're here and so close, you almost forget all your worries. the way they look at you. like you're the only person in the world. a feather-like embrace is enough to send you spinning. "I don't think I can just be your friend anymore," whispered against your lips. "I… like you too." they pull back.

"Jordan,"

"I need you to say it- I need you to say it sober so I don't feel like a fucking idiot," say it sober? when did you say it in the first place? maybe this was what Cate was talking about. the thing you couldn't remember. you admitted to having feelings for Jordan. fuck.

"I…" you trail off, the words are caught in your throat. this is gonna change everything?

"It's cool," they declare loudly, letting their hand fall as they away. "I get it."

"no Jordan-"

"no it's fine. you were fucked. it didn't mean anything- I shouldn't have said anything."

"Jordan," you say louder, reaching out for their hand. a deep regret fills your stomach. you liked Jordan. they meant a lot to you and you were throwing it all away because you were scared; terrified even. if this doesn't work out then you ruin everything. there's no coming back from this.

"don't," they yank their hand away. "please don't. I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity."

"I don't get you." they huff. "you're all over me and then you want nothing to do with me. you tell everyone you like me but then… nothing? it's… confusing-"

"Jordan just- stop please," you say loudly. "I… like you, okay?"

"don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you say a tad more confidently. "I like you." you try to reach for them again. they let you take their hand. " i don't know what it means exactly but I do… like you… too." you squeeze their hand slightly. it's warm and fits so perfectly in yours. they turn back to you with a smile. a small genuine smile that fills you with butterflies. they really did mean so much to you.

"so… now what?" they ask.

"I don't know." you pursed your lips, shrugging your shoulders. "but I do have to go."

"Seriously?"

"I have a meeting with Dean Shetty." you express. "I'm sorry. She wants me at some dinner so."

#gen v #jordan li #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #the boys #london thor #derek luh

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goldenstorm0 · 1 month ago

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I cannot wait for an Adult Man to fight the Small Child. It'll be a great fight, my money is on the child

ok-ok, more thoughts under the cut

plot twist the thoughts are still not terribly serious

I think in a Donovan vs Anya telepathy fight, the main factor playing against her is simply her being young. She can have trouble sorting through and interpreting other people's thoughts, particularly someone like Loid who just thinks a lot. Donovan probably has a foot up on her in regards to that, just knowing offhand what information is important and what isn't.

However, we need to take into account that for Anya, mind reading is something that simply comes naturally to her. Even if she wasn't born with it and gained that power soon after birth, it would still be crazy early into her development. Although she doesn't know what information is/isn't relevant, she can still process it fairly quickly.

Plus she seems to use her powers in a variety of ways not only in collecting information, but also to help her locate people as seen early-early in the series, and directing people, like when she warned Twilight about the bomb (twice now that i think about it, in Bond's intro arc and the cruise ship arc) or when they were on the ski trip, and in manipulating people and using that instantly to influence them, as in the bus-hijacking arc.

For Donovan, we have far less information about him (or really technically a confirmation that he can read minds, only that Melinda suspects it), but I'm going to speculate that his theoretical abilities are far less attuned or refined as Anya's. Guessing from what Melinda said about when he started to change, it was soon after Damian was born. I'm going to guess probably a year or two, assuming that first Any'a has to successfully gain her powers in an experiment before Donovan undertakes the same process, so maybe a few months depending on what risks he's willing to take. That being said, no matter what, his brain would be fully developed.

So having a new sense added to the mix at such a latter date is going to mess with him more. We know that he no longer participates in events that have a lot of people at them except for the imperial scholar parent events. He is probably overwhelmed by a large groups thoughts and can't process them out as easily. From what we can tell, he doesn't even go out and about for smaller events where large groups can form, not like Melinda anyway. Anya still goes out on ootings, we can see her in crowds functioning pretty normally, and she mainly seems to get overwhelmed if she starts actively focusing on the groups thoughts or when emotions are high and/or negative (the rally in the first ooting and when she was looking at the penguins)

So while Donovan can leverage his experience to know what information to piece out, Anya has him beat in pure processing power. And with her being so young, she has more time to refine her abilities and make up for what she lacks. Her thought processes work seamlessly with her abilities, Donovan however doesn't get that. He is probably easier to overwhelm, needs more time to simply consume whatever he is hearing.

So, in a literal battle of the minds, Anya can just start dumping a ton of the irrelevant information she has to overload Donovan, thus winning the battle.

Sadly, Donovan could definitely just pick her up and throw her if need be.

So the score is kinda even rn

On actual thoughts for this chapter, I'm still processing. We now know that at least Melinda thinks Donovan can read minds, but we art exactly sure what that entails. Is it similar to Anya's, or is it different? An actual sort of dialogue like how Anya reads, or more of vibe, general direction of their thoughts or feelings? And like... is she right? she could be wrong, Donovan could just be a paranoid freak, he could of changed his actions not because he can read minds but because he knows that there are people who can. Idk, all I know is that Loid needs to start working with her to learn some techniques to help her manage her anxiety and to get her the fuck out of her situation, I have a lot of thoughts about what Loid should be doing to help her and at least some of them involve getting Melinda and Yor to hangout more.

#spy x family #spy x family spoilers #anya forger #donovan desmond #melinda desmond #sooo many thoughts #becareful telling yor about melinda's situation #her instinct will tell her to kill Donovan and it will not be easy to talk her out of that #(and maybe part of me doesn't want to talk her out of it tbh)

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utilitycaster · 22 days ago

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Is there a place of no return you wish you could go back to answer say no stop this is a bad idea? For me, it was the 33 - 34. Either Orym should have stayed dead, or Matt should have put his foot down when Liam suggested calling Keyleth. Or why even have Keyleth be Ok with going to whitestone? If it has to be VM related it could have been Juniper. She's a cleric, she can be known by Orym. But yeah everything about Whitestone, C1 VM and how that all happened I would tell them bad idea

I mean, my initial point was that this should have had a session zero. Laudna's concept should have been drastically reworked, it might have been wise to have had Orym a little more detached from Vox Machina (Ashari from a different tribe would have done the trick), and Laura and Ashley should have been told they'd be in a particularly central and decision-heavy role and given an option to turn it down at absolute minimum; I'd also have possibly asked Travis if he'd be willing to play a person with ties to Marquet even if he'd spent time elsewhere and frankly this also might have been a good idea with Laudna. I would also require higher INT scores and that the Marquet-based characters have some understanding of the Apex War, and I'd ask everyone to think about how their character feels about the gods and weave that into their backstory and work with them if it doesn't fit into the worldbuilding.

However, assuming the party we have I agree that probably the biggest misstep was that Matt should have made Keyleth unavailable to answer the call from Orym, forcing the party to use Jiana. This brings them back to Jrusar, removes their early ties to Whitestone, forces the Delilah story into the forefront so it actually has to be dealt with, gives them a reason to get much more involved with both the Vanguard (via Jiana) and spend more time learning about the plot from Eshteross and the Starpoint Conservatory (particularly making it a great opportunity to learn about the Apex War), and even could have put them physically present during Otohan's confrontation with Eshteross. From there I genuinely think Delilah actually being a major problem that they had to deal with would have done a ton of work in terms of character development and dealing with their problems, and the party having much more information about the world around them and having a stronger connection to a place and its people would have done a MOUNTAIN of work for the rest of the campaign. It's even possible Eshteross could have survived with their assistance in a second Otohan fight, which would mean they would have had the airship the whole time as a home base (since they couldn't have crashed it), which would have given them downtime in the form of travel rather than being ferried around by Keyleth due to having no other options, and would have served as bonding time. Matt admitted in a 4SD he didn't expect them to call on Keyleth (which is WILD to me) but literally he should have said no. I don't know for sure if this is how he envisioned the early campaign going but I would not be surprised if it was.

#cr tag #answered #anonymous

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starcollectorsilas · 10 months ago

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Thinking about Chuuya- specifically in reference to school aus.

Because Chuuya is SMART okay. He is one of very few people who can keep up with Dazai's chaos, from a combination of knowing him for so long and also from just being smart himself. In stormbringer, Chuuya is shown to at least accurately estimate the answer to rather complex physics equations that cannot be done in your head. He does it anyway. He has an advantage in this where he himself needs to be very concious of gravity and its affects and how it works, and he also has years of first hand experience with how it works he can apply practically to the situation to make estimates easier based on prior knowledge and experience. However, the biggest detriment to that in Chuuya has probably never seen the inside of a school in his life.

It's reasonable to assume that he receives some form of education in the PM as a teen, especially given the fact he needs to work with numbers for running the jewel market. He runs that market with the most success it's hard in years if I recall correctly, while likely not knowing his seven times table. (In chuuya's defense- I don't know my seven times table either and I have a HISTORY with physics that is actually largely sunshine and rainbows so.)

but he does physics that people who've been in school for YEARS fuck up. Mentally.

So he's far from stupid.

However- I am a firm believer in the Chuuya doesn't preform well in school. Regularly a B or C student. He doesn't fail, but he's not scoring the marks he could be.

Because things aren't explained the way he needs them to be. He questions why things work the way they do, explores other possibilities to a point where he confuses himself over the material because school only ever covers a surface level explaination of how and why things work, and expect students to just get it.

When Chuuya does understand something, he UNDERSTANDS it. It becomes common knowledge to him, he can remember it and apply it well in classes, any grades or scores on in class work about the material is scored high. But the second he's under test or exam conditions, he just blanks. It's not the stress or pressure, because he works well under both. It's the lack of practicality to it. It's question after question with no running line he can use to tie everything together and get it the way he needs too. On top of this, he doesn't understand the questions, with nuance and implications his brain isn't wired to pick up on, taking questions literally in a way that costs him marks repeatedly.

If he was in a college or university, he would do so much better, even under test and exam conditions, but while in high school I think that environment just would not work out for him.

As I can make anything about skk, the countermeasure to Chuuya not understanding the way certain things are explained is that Dazai explains them better in a way that's understandable and fills any of the gaps in his knowledge that trip Chuuya up because it should be 'common sense'.

In my head the ada and pm have a joint study group held in Fukuzawa's classroom after school onnnnn... hm. Tuesdays. Because by then the topics for the week have been established, and they each should have had at least one of each class. They all work on their school stuff until everything is covered and then they just watch a movie on the board in the class because it shuts them up (totally not because Fukuzawa has just a little bit of a soft spot for the rowdy group of teens all pressed up against each other sitting on the floor on a random tuesday in early decemeber because none of them really want to go home and it's too cold to go anywhere else. It's not like they're causing trouble or being annoying- they're watching Barbie princess and the popstar for the third time this term.) and they're not causing any harm.

Chuuya isn't the only one who struggles like this, just maybe the one who does so the most, but he would be an incredible physicist, and through support from a few of the nicer teachers and his friends, I'm sure he'd find a way to do well anyway.

I do know he'd get to college and have a realisation like 'huh? learning is actually kind of enjoyable' and that'd be it. He'd become a certified genius. A gilmore girls extra, if you will.

anyway autistic + dyslexic Chuuya who stuggles in school agenda is real.

#silas yaps #bsd #ao3 fanfic #soukoku #bsd fanfic #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs #skk au #chuuya #chuuya nakahara

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gachagon · 3 months ago

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I definitely think that this moment is all of the little moments where Isagi zeroed in on just defeating one person and trying to become the best piling up to his ego becoming pure hubris. Like before it was just Isagi slowly becoming more and more like a machine who works towards a goal, but I fear he has fully embraced his role as an analyzer of the field, to the point where he's abandoning the thing that really made him standout as an analyst to begin with:

His empathy. I read a post a while ago from someone who talked about how it's actually because Isagi is so empathetic that he's able to read so much about his opponents. And I really agree with that, because Isagi Yoichi is the most empathetic person the field. Or at least he used to be before he became enamored with making goals and scoring. Then he only cared about trying to score because he brought into the Blue Lock philosophy hook, line, and sinker.

I think this moment is a result of Isagi abandoning the things that he felt were holding him back from becoming a "genius" like the others, and that thing was literally his ability to understand another person by thinking about what it must be like to be them, essentially. He's only thinking about how they can fulfill their actions on the field, and not why and that was a huge core of early Isagi's mindset. Thinking about others isn't a selfish act, and is the least egotistical thing you can do. But it's what got Isagi ahead for the most part, and a key part about being an egoist isn't getting rid of the parts that make you unique, it's turning those things about you into weapons for you to use to your advantage.

It's a little ironic that he'd turn to Kaiser in the end for help defeating the "neo egoist league" all together, because Kaiser JUST learned the whole "I need to be more empathetic and caring of others to truly learn the value of myself" lesson, he had this whole inner monologue where he truly realized that using other people like cogs in a machine wasn't what made him a great striker. Or even a great player, and that his detachment to other people was the thing that was secretly holding him back, not the other way around.

And here is Isagi, becoming just like Kaiser, abandoning the thing that made him special as a striker for what he thinks he "needs" and not what is actually beneficial to him.

In a weird way, its almost like Kaiser and Isagi have swapped places. Isagi is the unfeeling antagonist who wants to use this all feeling "side character" to get ahead, and I think he's going to fail because he doesn't realize that he's falling behind in the wrong places. Early Isagi from before this arc would have whole moments where he'd talk to his teammates and even learn about how they think specifically, and even their past achievements, the things weighing them down etc.

But this Isagi has not once done that, and that's what has led us here. To an Isagi who is wholly addicted to the feeling of making goals that he has forgotten to consider the other part of what makes a striker great.

A part of me is still also thinking about Bachira in all this, and how we haven't seen in literally a year at this point. And I am wondering if when we do see them, it will be like two sides of the same coin (because if I remember correctly Bachira's team hasn't won a single game for some reason, even though Bachira's scored the most)

I can definitely see Isagi becoming full on "Logos" in his ideas, while Bachira is completely "Pathos" and is honing too much in on his creativity and not enough on how to make that translate into a victory. (i also just miss bachira in the story </3)

#blue lock manga #bllk spoilers #blue lock spoilers #isagi yoichi #micheal kaiser #julien loki #noel noa #itoshi rin #blue lock manga spoilers #bllk meta #blue lock meta

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magics-neptunes-things · 1 year ago

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Prom

Hello!

This one is from a request, I hope it will please you as much as the others. I'd like to really thank all of you for your kindness it really mean very much to me. My life isn't really easy for now and writing help me a lot. I'm glad I can have someone to read my work here ♥

It's only fluff in here :)

______________________________________________________________

You just can't help it. You just can’t fight the force of attraction that constantly clings your eyes to Ona’s silhouette. This girl was a great player, charismatic, very kind and smiling. But she also had the gift of being both particularly cute while being frightfully sexy. You fell for her the second your eyes landed on her. She came to your school early this year for a school exchange. She’s supposed to finish school here and was recommended to be on your high school soccer team. Enough to say that she quickly demonstrated her qualities, so much so that the coach decided to appoint her captain. A nomination that could have attracted problems with other girls, but they were all quickly aware of Ona’s qualities.

You, on the other side, you were the captain of the cheerleaders, so you have the chance to be able to watch her play every game. Since you frequent the same places, you were quickly brought to discuss together. And you found yourself falling even harder.

Your sexual orientation doesn't question anybody, you have long demonstrated your interest for girls only. You don’t know for Ona though. She has never been in a relationship since she arrived here and she seems not to be interested in all those who have tried their luck. Always with her eternal sweet smile, she dismisses them kindly before shifting her attention to football.

You had an incredible chance anyway, because of your catastrophic results in Spanish, your teacher offered to ask Ona to give you private lessons. You agreed and so did Ona, but it didn’t help you get close to her because in the way you wanted because you find yourself blushing and feeling particulary stupide every time.

But eventually your work payed off and it’s with a big smile that you find the Spanish girl in the corridors of the school, shaking a paper in front of her face.

"What is it?" she asks with a smile, her voice making strange things in your belly everytime, before grapping the piece of paper. "Madre mia Y/N a A-?"

You don’t answer, just nod with a big smile. You’ve never scored as high as this one and you owe it to the brunette.

"Felicitaciones!"

She jumps happily before hugging you and kissing your cheek. And here you are again, blushing red like a damn tomato.

"Muchas gracias" you smile, hopping Ona didn't realise your blush. "But I still need your help though. I have a writing for next week, would you mind?"

"Of course not. I have training this afternoon but can I come tomorrow?"

**********

Tomorrow being friday night, you propose to Ona to come for diner and work on your essay afterwards. Your parents aren’t here like pretty much every Friday night, both of them being part of a club with all of her friends. Well it's literally an excuse to meet them and have drinks, but you pretend not to realize it. Your older sister is out too with her boyfriend, like every Friday night too.

"How was practice?" you ask Ona, erasing a deleted sentence on your page.

"Good, good" the other girl answer absent-mindedly.

She was standing behind you in your room, looking at the pictures and the posters hung on the wall. You can’t see it and look over your shoulder. She turns her back on you and is admiring the one with your best friend, dating from this summer. You and she had managed to get her parents to take you with them, and this was probably the best vacation of your life.

Realizing that your gaze lingers a little too long on her arms and her butt, you suddenly shift your attention to your writing, cheeks burning.

"I think I’m done" you mumble a few minutes later, scratching your head.

"Let me see"

Ona answers you softly and comes back to sit next to you. You don’t move when you feel her knee leaning against your thigh, trying to ignore the heat wave that seizes your entire body. The attraction you feel for her becomes ridiculous, especially when a look in her direction tells you that she does not even seem to have realized.

"It's pretty great actually. You just made one or two grammar mistakes, but otherwise it’s fine. Your progress is really impressive"

"I have a very good teacher"

Ona looks at the sheet that she is correcting to send you a smirk and you almost faint. Jesus Christ this woman.

"Done!" she says soon after with another smile.

You thanks her again and a glance at your phone inform you that it's pretty early. Even if you would appreciate more than ever to spend extra time with Ona, you do not know under what pretext to propose her to stay. But she doesn’t get up from your chair though, leaning on the backrest and gently turning it from side to side.

"So, what’s on tonight?" she asks and you shrug.

"Nothing really. I have to stay to watch the house"

"Alone?"

"Yeah? Sometimes Hannah comes too, but tonight she was busy"

You see Ona’s look for a few seconds on the photo she was looking at earlier, representing you with your best friend on the beach. And she turns her attention back to you.

"You both seems very close"

"Yes, I mean I know her since we are five but it’s like she’s always been part of my life."

"Are you together?"

A few seconds pass during which you look at Ona, digesting the surprise of her question. Then you end up laughing a little before shaking your head.

"Like together, together? Nah, she's like my sister. Plus she's straight as a die."

Ona nod and you put the mess on your desk together, now that you’re done studying.

"So if I ask you to go to the prom with me next week, it might not hurt anyone?"

Holly mother of god. You gather feverishly the papers you dropped under emotion and you have to clear your throat to chase the feverish in your voice.

"No one will be hurt if you ask me" you mumble shyly before adding "Except maybe all your pretenders who are rushing to the gate."

Ona rolls her eyes.

"Would you? Come to prom with me?"

You raise your eyes on her face to make sure she’s not joking. But that doesn’t seem to be the case and you even manage to see hope in her eyes. As if it were possible for you to hesitate for a second.

"I'd love to"

**********

Maybe it’s a little cliché the captain of cheerleaders going to the prom with the captain of the soccer team. But honestly, you don’t care. You don’t know how the rest of the school could have known so quickly about Ona's request, but it seems like by Monday most of the others students were already aware.

You may have seen different reactions from your friends, most of were happy for you. You didn’t expect, however, that some would show jealousy by asking aloud what had pushed Ona to ask you to accompany her. You haven’t been able to speak so much to the Spanish during this week, both of your training sessions require special attention given the advanced championship.

But you have to admit that these hallway gossips and these kinds of remarks altered your confidence so much that you ended up writing to Ona in the middle of the week to make sure that she still want to go with you.

You - Hi Ona. Sorry to bother you. I just was wondering if you still want to go together at the prom?

Ona - Hola! Of course, why? Ona - Have you change your mind?

You - Not at all, just asking. You - What will you wearing?

Feeling the questioning of the other girl, you quickly changed the subject under the pretext of being able to coordinate your outfits. You didn’t want her to realize the insecurities you can have sometimes. You are the cheerleaders captain, you know perfectly well that if you let the slightest thing appear, it can quickly turn against you.

Ona told you that she will pick you at 8, and here you are, looking at yourself on the mirror of your bathroom. The more you look, the more you feel that the outfit you have chosen is not the right one. But you don't have time to think about it any longer, because soon the bell rings and you hurry to the entrance. Your parents and your sister are home and you don’t necessarily want them to bother Ona today.

You scream a goodbye and slam the door, making your way to Ona's car. She’s waiting for you and her vision takes your breath away. She’s perfect, whether it’s her outfit, her haircut, her makeup. So perfect that you want to cry. You will never be in her league. Yet she slowly approaches you with a big smile.

"You are beautiful" she tells you while extending her hand to go with her towards the passenger door.

" You’re the on to talk" you answer, biting the inside of your lip.

You almost make a comment about how many will be jeslous of you when the will see you to her arm, but you hold back. You already hinted that last week when she invited you and you don’t want to be too annoying.

A comfortable silence settles between you and you smile as you hear her humming the song passing on the radio. It's only a few minutes later that Ona breaks the silence.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course"

"How did you end up captain of the cheerleaders?" asked Ona, glancing at you. "No offense, but you don’t have the same characteristics as your teammates. You are not superficial, you are not selfish, you have respect for everyone… It doesn't fit so much in the usual codes, you know?"

You look at her for some seconds, thinking about her question. You already know the answer, but you're thinking about the way you can say the things.

"My sister was in the team, my mother was in the team... I guess I just wanted to show them that I can make it too."

You shrugs, before looking at the window. You didn't mean to say that your mother or your sister are superficial and all, but you don't really have the same vision of things.

"Do you even like it?"

"Somehow. It has some advantages. You can met interesting people"

You glance at her and she intercedes, your answer seems to make her smile. It makes you smile back despite the slight heat that once again invades your cheeks.

You arrive a few minutes later and once Ona has parked, she hurries around the car to open your door. You thank her with a smile and look mechanically around you. You notice glances at both of you, but your attention is quickly diverted by Ona’s hand which gently settles in the hollow of your back to train towards the entrance. As light as a butterfly, her hand on the fabric of your dress is pleasant and you refrain from leaning against it.

The evening passed at the speed of light and you had an incredible time. You still don’t explain yourself how you just didn't ignite on the spot. You and Ona danced during the evening, her hands on your waist giving you the impression that your legs turned into jelly. Every touch, every glance or smile brought you a little more to fall under the spell of the Spanish. It’s been a long time now that the stage of crush seems to be over, you are completely crazy about her.

Ona was closer to you physically than ever and you allowed yourself to look at her a little more strongly. You got lost in her eyes and yours landed several times on her lips.

But you are now going back home, in the same comfortable silence as before. The only difference is that this time your hands are intertwined on your leg and you play mechanically with the fingers of the young woman. You arrive a little too quickly to your liking and you shift your attention to the latina when she turns off the engine.

"Thank you for inviting me. I had a great evening" you smile softly, reluctantly leaving Ona to recover her hand.

"Me too" answers Ona smiling before undoing her belt. "I take you home."

Coming out of the car, you slowly follow her to your front door. The lights are off on the ground floor, but the one on the floor tells you that your parents are not sleeping yet.

"It went too fast" Ona pout, gently putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

Quick, air needed please. You focus all your concentration to listen to the words she says to you and not faint.

"It’s true" you mumble without really realizing what you’re saying.

Ona answers nothing, her gaze in yours. Your heart beats too fast, so fast that you have the impression that Ona can hear it. Hypnotized by her, you notice that she came forward only when her face is only a few centimeters from yours. From there you can see the depth of her gaze, every single one of her freckles.

And then, she kissed you. Slowly, letting you the time to stop her if you don’t want to.

But you want to, obviously. You would be unable to describe how you feel during this kiss, but your heart rushing against your thorax cage might speak for you.

"My heart will explode" you whisper against her lips without fully taking them off.

"I’ve wanted to do this for ages, you have no idea how much"

The answer of the latina makes you open your eyes and you find yourself immersed in her chocolate eyes, so warm and pleasant.

"I’m glad you did"

She offers you a new smile and takes you completely against her for a new kiss. A little more harder this one, but still light, made to discover you both. Her hands caress your face while yours are in the hollow of her back.

You feel like you could spend hours there, but you realize you have to go home if you don’t want to get your parents' attention.

"Will you writing to tell me that you have arrived well?" you ask her gently, your hands caressing her arms.

"Promise" she answers you before stealing a new kiss. "Sleep well"

Then it’s your turn to steal one from her, before she goes back to her car. Waiting for her to leave to enter your home, you can’t erase the big smile on your face when you go up to your room. You go directly in it, starting to undress and remove your makeup. You just putted on your pajamas when your phone vibrates, indicating the reception of a new message.

Ona - I came home well. I hope to wake up tomorrow without realizing that it was all a dream. Sleep well Princess ♥

You - Sleep well too, Hermosa. I look forward to seeing you again ♥

#ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine

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