#like old me would be kind of terrified of taking an initiative like that and be afraid of everything in that
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one thing about me is
i'm healing and grieving, at the edge of both, cross-roads even. i have regular crisises over people lost, pondering my worth and am i enough, was i enough, am i too much and too little. feeling like i shouldn't be in the spaces i am, feeling like i have too much opportunities and possibilities in my life; like this person i am wouldn't deserve it.
then again, i am sending that text. taking that space, taking an initiative, asking for meet-ups and being braver. raising my hand in class, taking responsibilities and taking each day as it is.
and somewhere along i am, not winning, but, persevering. finding a positive side, handling it better and understanding the pain and grief and terrified feelings i have carried for so long. and also trying more, bit by bit.
it's like my default mode has been survival; appear small and smile bright so you won't get bitten. like a little animal, terrified of being eaten. and now, a part of me is shedding that skin, like a snake, and appearing bigger, less smiling out of fear and more smiling out of joy, feeling too big on my skin yet doing it anyway, trying new things.
and maybe that is it; i'm beginning and ending at the same time.
#i had a crisis over old traumatizing friendship that is no more this morning bc that pain feels still fresh after all this time#and then i just texted some friends inviting them over at some point without really stressing over it and taking it as#what happens happens#like old me would be kind of terrified of taking an initiative like that and be afraid of everything in that#this me is also slightly anxious but being like let's try anyway!#and yeah...it's all a big contradiction of old patterns and fears and new feelings and courage#so yeah.#ramblings#personal#positive#in a way
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ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜᴇʀ!Ryomen Sukuna x M!ʀᴇɪɴᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴛᴇᴅ!Reader //“𝗠𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝗲..?”
Request, @zxuii
--- "HI HIII first off, i love your writing style, i actually adore it lol. Second I want to request Teacher!Sukuna x Male!reader that was also a sorcerer from the heian era, a powerful one who gets jealous quite often of the attention Sukuna gets since back in the Heian era the only ones who where close enough to Sukuna was reader and Uraume (Unless Uraume didn't exist in this AU or smth happened) so a lot of fights between them break through since Sukuna isn't good with communication either. You can decide if you want this too be Angst in general or paired with something else i don't mind!! :))"
((I love this <3))
-!! M!Reader (he / him)
-!! Wee bit of angst (he's just a saucy boy) + goofy kinda smut (dunno what kind of style it's called lol)
-!! stuff ain't proofread 🥶
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
・・❥・---------------------------------------------------------------・・❥・
Sukuna remembers you vividly from the past; from that time 1000 years ago. How could he forget? Such a flamboyant character, – power exuded with every step, the earth seeming to shake with every fall of your foot. A wandering swordsman: a rather powerful sorcerer who curiously didn’t belong to any one clan. You’d spend your days traversing the earth, sleeping in the empty shrines near villages, taking commissions and odd jobs from just about everyone– human or not.
Sukuna found it odd how you didn’t align yourself with the standard belief of sorcerers: you were benevolent to cursed spirits like him, you didn’t have the sudden impulse to exorcize, to destroy. Perhaps it was your lack of loyalty to a clan, or the fact that curses could offer prices just as good– if not better, than humans. Either way, it was quite interesting when you crossed paths for the first time; him, the terrifying, all powerful King of Curses, – four arms and two grotesque faces, towering over you, a humble traveler, – and you just stood there, – smiling, at him, – the rumored monster of Ryomen Sukuna.
He was absolutely astounded, – had this guy not an ounce of fear? The singlest shred of self-preservation? You should be screaming– running, – begging at his feet for mercy, – not making small talk
“Nice weather, huh?”
“Excuse me? It’s pouring”
“Oh, I hadn’t noticed 😋”
He could sense a staggering amount of cursed energy from you, much more than the average sorcerer– let alone human.
“Nice jugs btw”
“???”
Bud was flabbergasted – he could only watch you walk away with a big grin on your face. Later that evening he had to bring it up to Uruame, who was cooking up the latest harvest of human bones:
“He said you had a nice chest.”
“Huh, usually one would think to say that to a woman–”
“Perhaps the sorcerer thought you were a woman”
“What.”
Ever since he’s had an affinity for you, a fascination… an obsession. He needed to know everything about you, – your goal, your motives, your desires, your deepest and darkest of fears, – the most depraved of thoughts of this strange sorcerer who had the gaul to compliment his chest like he was some kind of street whore.
He ran into you the next day at the same village, just as you were about to leave. You acted so nonchalant, like he was just another acquaintance, it was truly fascinating and… dare Sukuna say, endearing. He initially went there to kill you for your audacity from yesterday, yet he ended up only shit-talking the village folk wit you, – the old swordsmith who swore there were devils living in his chimney, - the old woman by the creek who was rumored to drown passerbys in the water next to her tiny abode, - the sleezy thug of a priest who thought it was funny to scam you for cleaning his shrine free of charge (whom Sukuna ended up gutting shortly afterwards). The curse was left to, yet again, return back to Uruame with new rantings of you
(just let them cook in peace 😭)
The next day, a band of those pesky Zenin showed up, – and Sukuna thought the opps were on him again. Turns out, not only were you not apart of any specific clan, but you were also quite unpopular with a majority of sorcerer society. After finding out, Sukuna couldn’t help but rush to your aid, determined to cleave the gang of sorcerers in half for trying to harm such an interesting specimen of his. Imagine his utmost surprise to find them not only beat upon his arrival, but diced up and dead on the forest floor, too.
He was beyond impressed: a seeming clanless nobody such as yourself had chopped down about a dozen of one of the most powerful sorcerers of the time. You saw him staring from afar, waving and flashing that stupidly charming smile of yours. Sukuna couldn’t help but invite you back with him, the dozen dead bodies in tow
Uruame cooked up a mighty fine dinner that night, one the three of you enjoyed together (yum, human flesh). From that day on you were part of the gang: you, Sukuna, and Uruame. Most days you would be off for up to months at a time, simply doing your own thing, going town to town. Whenever you’d run into your good pal as he was burning down the latest village you’d make sure to have a nice catch up over a warm meal (cooked by Uruame)
You and Uruame got along, – they liked the fact that you could often cook together, Sukuna– being useless as shit in the kitchen – was barred from helping lest he incinerate everything
But alas, you were mortal, fickle; temporary, – and no sooner did you come into his existence were you cruelly ripped from him, – finally effectively jumped and killed.
Sukuna almost couldn’t believe it: you never lost- you weren’t supposed to lose, but you did. You fought valiantly, taking an impressive number down with you. In the skirmish, Uruame disappeared, Sukuna was reduced almost to dust,-- miraculously he survived, albeit incredibly weak. They sealed a majority of his power away in his severed fingers.
Now, weakened immeasurably and down a pair of arms, – momentarily without his chef and darling sorcerer, Sukuna had a change in heart
No longer did he want to be the bad guy, he wanted to be good, to help others, – to help the future of jujutsu sorcery (nah, that’s some bullshit, he just wanted to continue being fed, and he could only be if he became a teacher in sorcery, lol)
—----
Flash forward to modern day…
—---
Seeing you once again, reborn, was a complete whiplash for Sukuna.
You recognized him immediately, obviously, – he was your man after all <3 (even if he denied it)
Poor baby had to physically restrain himself when he saw you back to kicking ass as a modern day jujutsu sorcerer, having not changed an ounce since he last remembered you
You miss his four arms, – almost more than Sukuna did. It disappointed Sukuna to see you disappointed with his lack of arm power. Still, he only needed two arms to absolutely destroy you--
After the incident with Yuji Itadori accidentally consuming one of his fingers (which made Sukuna livid– blud has been sweating and grinding to get those fingers back, and to find out some random goofy ahh kid decided to munch on one? And they wanna give him MORE??) – Sukuna has been absorbed more than ever into his work.
You adore his students, – especially Megumi, Nobara and Yuji – (much to Sukuna’s dismay) and oftentimes will stop by his lessons just to bug him in front of them
You were still the same insufferable charmer as before, shamelessly batting your eyes and making crude comments to catch him off guard:
“Hey cutie ;) “
“Hell do you want” he sneers, “wish to be my example for today’s lesson?”
“Nah, just passing by, – those pants make your ass look fat by the way”
“What.”
“Toodles !!”
It infuriated him, much to your delight
It was different now, back then it was just you and him, Uruame bearing the only witness to your shenanigans. But when you say those things in front of those brats, – the same brats who were taught to fear and despise his kind, who were suppose to be intimidated by him, – it makes his job of maintaining the tough, snide “King of Curses” just that much harder
Yuji, with all the time he spent with Sukuna as his main mentor, would ask about you frequently: what you were like 1,000 years ago. Whether it was the nostalgia or purely the fact it was you, – talking about it always softened Sukuna’s grueling and harsh belittling. Poor Yuji could only catch a break when Sukuna started saying “Back in my day..”
“Sukuna-sensei?”
“What, brat?” Sukuna paused, casting an unimpressed glare over his shoulder
Yuji propped his head onto a fist, leaning on the desk in front of him. The empty classroom was dimming with the setting sun, the vibrant colors that always made Sukuna wanna barf invaded through the windows from the sunset, painting the empty classroom a colorful ombre,
“You said that odd man who likes to hang around you was around 1,000 years ago, right?”
Sukuna’s eyebrows scrunch in annoyance, “Yes, and?”
“What was he like? Does he act the same as all those years ago? How’d he get reborn? What was your relationship like?” The curse wanted to punt the kid across the room with all his silly questions. Instead, – knowing you’d dislike it if he hurt Yuji, – he opted to take a deep breath, air hissing through his teeth, before answering,
“Mm, you brats are so invasive, – the world doesn’t revolve around you selfish vermin.” sighing, “but fine, I’ll entertain whatever silly fantasy you have about me in your head; he was a sorcerer, a pretty damn strong one, too”
“But you didn’t kill him-” Yuji interjects, confused
“No, I didn’t”
“Why, were you two good friends.?”
He growled at the quantity of the questions, causing Yuji to scoot back in his seat slightly,
“No– well, sort of. I’d assume you could say that.”
“No-? Really? Kugisaki thinks you two are dating”
Sukuna’s jaw almost drops to the floor,
“What.”
“Yeah, – Fushiguro says you two were together back then too, with the way you look at each other”
With the way he-?
“Was he your like… private prostitute or something?”
Sukuna has never heard such fuckery before:
“No. – I’d suggest you’d stop wherever you think you’re going with this, brat.”
“Did you bang though?”
That threw him for a loop, and Sukuna couldn’t help but wince at the term. “Banging” was a poor choice of words, – such a word couldn’t possibly do what you two did justice.
No, you didn’t “bang”
Sukuna couldn’t help but be drawn in by you, – your attitude, your carefree-ness, your power, he wanted it all for himself, – which he sometimes did
Those endless nights of pleasure where’d he just lose himself in you, - your affectionate caresses, your sweet nothings whispered into his ear that cast shivers all throughout. Sukuna was used to hearing praise showered upon his name, – his devotees throwing themselves at his feet to worship the ground he walked on. But he didn’t care for their praise, – not like he did yours. Your kind words were treasured, craved. If only you had been a woman: he would’ve made you a concubine, – no, – his wife.
—---
His ego is fragile, witnessing you tearing apart his terrifying image horrifies him.
Unfortunately for Sukuna, you couldn’t stop dotting on your pretty princess :3 It all came to a boiling point when you saw one of his colleagues start to cuddle up just the littlest bit too close: and he just let them. Seeing Mei Mei acting so clingy with the King made something in the pit of your stomach drop. Your envy boiled, sour and ripening into an ugly weed. It was obvious she held no actual affections (because one, – Mei Mei only lives for cold, hard cash, – which Sukuna didn’t really have on him, which was odd— and two, he was way too old for her tastes)
You just couldn’t help yourself, – he was wearing such a tight shirt, it hid nothing.
“Yo, nice tits”
He was done. You were done sullying his name with your filthy words, – you were done humiliating him. And he made sure you knew that too
He had pulled you into his empty classroom, all the students and staff long gone. Sukuna towered over you, cold glare sending a delicious shivering cascading through your body,
“Enough.”
“Eh..?” you wince, your voice sounded all wrong, too high pitch and breathy, “enough of what?”
Your damn smile again.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Your humiliation is not appreciated.”
You scoff, “humiliation?”
He glares, “silence, brat” he firmly grabs ahold of your chin, forcing it upwards, making you look him directly in those creepy, maroon eyes.
One moment Sukuna has his emotions underwraps: he’s focused, – locked in, – he’s not going to let something as fickle as human ‘love’ hinder his plans. The more assertive the better, he would not be walked on – but he also didn’t want to accidentally lash out and do something he ends up regretting
The next thing he knows, Sukuna starts spiraling,
“You insist on following me, stalking me for over 1,000 years, – it’s pathetic” wait- what? No, he didn’t mean it like that
“--you mortal brats are as measly as ever, it’s no wonder you died to your own kind” pause, no, no, no, no, no….-- what was he doing? He didn’t actually mean that-
“--killed by fellow sorcerers: pathetic. Dead and reborn, you’re still the desperate mutt crawling back to me..” Stop. Make it stop. Someone stop him. Stop/
“Uruame should be back here instead, seeing you is the biggest disappointment in this millennium”
Oh..
“... fine then.” Your voice is quiet, small. Don’t look at him like that.
Sukuna’s eyes widened, but he couldn't seem to say anything, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. Instant dread pools into his stomach
“I see how it is. If that’s truly how you feel…”
“Wait no–” Sukuna starts, immediately tensing up as you lower your eyes onto his. He swallows, hard. He hated the dejected, – the defeated look on your face. You looked so sad, and Sukuna couldn’t bear to see you sad , – something that terrified him to no end, — you terrify him to no end. You elicit the most exotic of feelings within him, reviving his ancient, rotten, worm eaten heart to a thunderous boom. Sukuna is reminded of the times back then: you laying in the field, hand twining in his hair, lightly scraping his scalp, – him sighing in content like an old dog. There would be the half eaten corpse of some unfortunate sorcerer off to the side, and you’d occasionally hand feed one or two limbs to the second mouth on his stomach, tongue out and awaiting like a dog’s for a treat —Such tender moments, the power you have over him makes him feel weak in the knees. Every instinct within him told Sukuna to run, - to protect himself from this threat that was your adoration. The thrill gnawed at him from the inside, – but oh, the ecstasy from it felt so good.
But he was Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses – he couldn’t face having such an open weakness – taking on a lover would feel like he had gutted himself, taking away a fundamental aspect of his existence as a character. You just have to keep stoking the flames. ,
… “nevermind, just go. I could care less”
You do, closing the classroom door behind you, and Sukuna can’t help but feel as if half of his soul leaves with you. This happened every time: he’d push you away, only to immediately regret it, craving deeply for your validation.
Shit, seems like he really did have a lot to learn when it came to such fickle human emotions.
He’d make it up to you, – he always did.
—-------
You were the only one to bring him to his knees, the only deity the King would bring himself to worship , – and what a divine thing you were.
Those nights of infinite passion, – you underneath him, (and occasionally him under you–) he’d take you with the utmost care. Ryomen Sukuna has never been “gentle” with something, – let alone with another living individual, – but with you his touches were always so attentive, so skillful and purposeful. He never wanted to hear you scream in anything but pure pleasure.
On the most precious of those nights, you’d coax the sweetest of noises from his lips. You could’ve sworn he has whimpered, despite his firm denial.
You were his God.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
A/N: thank you for the request <3
#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jjk oneshot#jjk smut#jjk x y/n#sukuna x reader#sukuna x male reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#jjk sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jujutsu sukuna#uraume#jjk x male reader#ryomen sukuna smut#sukuna ryomen smut#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#jjk ryomen#ryomen x reader#x male reader#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#sukuna smut#sukuna angst
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L”m so happy your back! I would like a request a yandere! Pm Dazai (18 yrs old) with a darling who’s naïve and innocent (of course he kidnaps them) how would he react to a such pure person! Thank you for taking this request.
Yandere!PM!Dazai with a naive and innocent reader
This is the first time I write for PM!Dazai (and I do headcanons), don't kill me
Yandere!PM!Dazai x Reader
Idk english, I don't like english, let me
summary: the title :D
tw: kidnapping, corruption of innocence, stalking, death (not reader or Dazai), physical and psychological abuse, maybe something else but idk
Honestly, I don't know how you got into this situation.
I can only think of two options as to how you ended up getting his attention: Dazai was looking for someone like you or you just surprised him.
With the first option, I guess he wanted to get away momentarily from everything he had known in his life, get someone who wasn't as fucked up as he was.
Or you just came unexpectedly into his life, maybe you got involved in one of his missions without having any idea.
Either way, Dazai was dazzled by your innocence.
You are the opposite of him and he wants to keep it that way, he knows what this world is capable of doing to pure souls like yours and he is not going to allow that.
First he won your trust, it was easy, you trusted everyone too fast, you didn't even doubt him in spite of his strange attitude that didn't let you see beyond him.
You never realized the danger in front of your eyes and that only made Dazai adore you more.
He would know every little part of your life, the names of all your friends and the places you go to, he always has an eye on you.
He would keep your friends and family away from you, he's not afraid to kill, threaten or torture others for that purpose.
Deep down, all he wants to do is to corrupt you.
He wants to be the one to destroy your innocence, to show you the cruelty of the world, even if it is contradictory to his initial purpose.
Maybe that's the reason he kidnapped you.
And oh god, that's when the real fun begins.
He doesn't care about your opinion, not in the slightest, and punishments are just around the corner.
Forced affection would be a normal thing, he sees you as a kind of safe place where he can be a bit more vulnerable, just a bit 🤏
Still, I doubt he would ever let you see his true feelings.
That would only be way down the road in your relationship, when Dazai can have complete confidence that you'll never escape.
Yandere!Dazai is not easy, least of all if he's PM Dazai, but your attitude would make it somewhat more tolerable.
Being such a naive little thing, he can trust you more easily.
Plus you're terrified of him, so you don't even think about running away.
But if you were to try… Well, remember what I said about punishments being just around the corner? Then get ready for torture.
Breaking bones, beating you unconscious, isolating you for days, starving and thirsting you, etc.
Although he usually mistreats you as well, it's all more psychological.
He wants to make you see the evil, to see you break and cry.
Makes him have a mix between sadistic joy and regret.
He really feels very guilty for everything he does, for seeing you in such a broken state.
He would never tell you, the closest you get to that would be a strangely silent Dazai cuddling like a koala bear to you.
I hope you have enough mental stamina to endure your stay with Dazai
Oh, and if he sees that he's broken you until there's nothing left of the original you or that all your innocence is gone, maybe he'll kill you because he's bored 😀
The image of your friend would not leave your head. He was immobile, cold, dead.
It was the first time you saw a corpse in real life, it made your blood run cold. Especially because you saw him die and you couldn't do anything about it.
Dazai killed him, after many hours of torture, one shot in his head and his screams stopped. You saw the blood spill on the floor along with pieces of flesh. You did not vomit because of the absence of food in your stomach, but the nausea was there.
He wouldn't let you take your eyes off him, even when he was torturing him. When his fingernails were being pulled out and his skin was burning. You had to keep watching or the torture would transfer to you.
You couldn't save him. Your throat was torn from screaming, but he was still dead. Would his corpse still be in that dark warehouse? Would that be his grave? At least you would have liked to have been able to give him a proper funeral, not abandon him.
You didn't understand how someone could be as evil as Dazai was. Your friend did nothing, he just worried about your disappearance. Now, because of you, he too would become a missing person.
The tears were still wet when an extra weight was placed on the bed. You refused to move, afraid that he would take you back to continue seeing those horrible things, things you can't even describe without breaking down in tears.
He lies behind you and wraps his arms around you, his hands that caused so many murders gently holding your body.
You never thought before that the perpetrators of these acts could be ordinary people, people you would trust and befriend. But they could be, the proof of that was Dazai, someone too young to be killing.
You are conflicted by the situation, you empathize with Dazai. You want to understand him and know what led him to be the way he is today, try to justify him, but he killed your friend. The dilemma of whether he deserved a forgiveness eats at you inside. Could his actions be justified by his past? Maybe Dazai is just a victim like you.
Be that as it may, apparently you still have time to think because he doesn't plan to let you go anytime soon.
I am sleep deprived
#bsd x reader#bsd x you#yandere bsd#yandere#yandere dazai#pm dazai#bsd dazai#dazai x y/n#dazai x reader#dazai osamu#dazai#bungou stray dogs dazai
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💕
At summer training camp in her second year, Yachi Hitoka notices a small, heart-shaped Pride pin on Akaashi Keiji’s sports bag.
She spends the first two days of camp agonizing if she should say something. Is it appropriate? Would Akaashi be weirded out? How does one casually initiate a conversation with a fellow gay?
So far Yachi has only told two people: a cousin, and her former crush/mentor, the incomparable Kiyoko Shimizu. She’s chatted with people online, but always anonymously.
The thought of coming out to someone new is terrifying.
But Akaashi, and really the entire Fukurodani Volleyball Club, have always been approachable. Yachi recalls running into Akaashi and his ace, Bokuto Koutarou at Nationals. They were so kind, easing her worries and doubts during an intense match. Despite being just as tall and intense as the other athletes Yachi regularly met, she never felt intimidated by the pair.
And so, she now finds herself peering nervously around the corner of the Ubugawa gymnasium to where Akaashi, now captain of Fukurodani, stands. He’s staring down at his phone, his bag casually slung over one shoulder. The rainbow pin gleams under the midday sun.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Yachi approaches. As she does, she sees that Akaashi is smiling. It’s subtle, just a slight twitch at the sides of his mouth, but it’s noticeable. She wonders vaguely what he’s looking at on his phone.
She chides herself for being nosey.
Akaashi hears her shuffling and looks up. “Ah, Yacchan.” He politely tucks the phone away. “Good evening.”
“Hello, um, hi, Akaashi-san!” Yachi stammers. “H-how are you?” She winces at her own awkwardness.
“Doing well, thank you.” He nods politely. “And you? Are you staying cool? Hydrated?”
“I’m okay!” Yachi bows back. “But yeah, it’s so hot out today!”
“You’re not a summer person, then?”
“Not at all!” She groans. “I feel like I’m melting!”
Akaashi chuckles. “You sound like Bokuto. He abhors the heat, especially when it’s humid as well.”
Yachi grins. “How is Bokuto-san doing? He’s at Central Sports University, right?” She assumes Bokuto keeps in touch with his old teammates.
Akaashi hums. “Moving from home was a big change, but he’s happy. His new team is a good fit.”
“I’m glad.” Yachi reaches down to fiddle with the hem of her t-shirt, unsure. She feels like she’s about to dive off a cliff, not knowing if there will be a net to catch her. Her anxious gaze shifts, and now the pin is in direct line of sight, as if taunting her. How can she bring it up?
“Yacchan?”
Yachi flinches, realizing she had been staring at the pin for a few beats too long. When she meets Akaashi’s gaze, he looks uncertain. Oh no! Does he think she has a problem with it? “Sorry!” She cries, arms waving frantically. “I didn’t know what to say, because… um, I saw it and I just…”
“This?” Akaashi’s fingers wander across the bag’s canvas and to the pin’s enamel surface. He taps it with one of his perfectly filed nails, lifting an eyebrow curiously.
Yachi swallows down her fear. “Yeah! It’s nice! Um, I’d like to find one for my book bag!”
Akaashi looks mildly surprised, but his face softens quickly. “I see.”
“Haha, yeah…”
“So.” Akaashi clears his throat. “You’re…”
“Yeah!” Yachi says again hands tighten into fists excitedly. “I’m gay!” Her ears burn in embarrassment as her companion bites his bottom lip, trying not to laugh at her outburst.
“Well, thank you for sharing that with me, Yacchan.”
Yachi releases a shaky breath, grinning back nervously. For a while they are silent. Cicadas buzz above, gym shoes squeak on hardwood nearby. She wonders if Akaashi is feeling the same sort of content relief at finding another queer person to confide in.
“When did you know?”
“Huh?” It takes a moment for her to discern Akaashi’s question. “Oh! Um, well. Back in first year, I had a crush on someone, but at first I didn’t know it was a crush!” She recounts the clarity she experienced, when she finally understood her feelings. It was like everything suddenly shifted into focus.
It had been hard, accepting that Kiyoko couldn’t return her feelings. But she is forever grateful for the older girl—for her influence, kindness, her support when she came out.
“How are you doing now?” Akaashi asks kindly, causing Yachi to relax further.
“Well, I’m glad I know who I am! But now I basically fall in love with every pretty, nice girl I meet!” She sighs. “It’s tiring!”
Akaashi chuckles. “I suppose I can’t relate exactly. I’ve only ever had feelings for one person.”
Yachi leans in curiously, waiting for her companion to continue on his own. She doesn’t want to pry.
“I always found guys attractive,” he says finally. “But when I came out in middle school, my parents told me to keep it to myself. They said I’d ‘grow out of it,’ so it wasn’t worth acting on.”
Yachi frowns. “I’m so sorry, Akaashi-san! I, um, think my mom will be supportive when I tell her. I’ve heard her talk positively about the marriage equality movement…”
Akaashi’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. “I’m glad to hear. But remember, even if she doesn’t, you will find people who support and love you. I found that at Fukurodani. In fact,” he reaches into his pocket. “Let’s exchange numbers. If you ever want to talk, contact me. Bokuto, too. Anytime.”
A surge of affection hits Yachi. It’s overwhelming, how it wells up inside her, through her heart and into her throat. Not since Kiyoko had she felt so seen by another person. “Thank you,” she croaks, blinking furiously. (She is not crying. She’s not!) “Wait,” she says, realizing what Akaashi had said. “Bokuto… I mean, is he also…”
Shyly, Akaashi nods. “I’m sure he’d be okay with me telling you. Bokuto is bisexual. And, well…” His voice lowers slightly. “He and I… we’re together.”
Yachi feels like she might fall over at the news. Akaashi and Bokuto, two of her favorite people in the entire world, are dating? Incredible!
“That’s wonderful!” She cries, hands pulling into fists in excitement. He chuckles, sharp cheekbones going pink.
“Thank you. I… have to agree...”
From then on, Yachi and Akaashi grow closer. They spend time together at training camps, keeping in touch in between. They end up at the same university and often meet up to study together.
Yachi confides in Akaashi and Bokuto, who give her advice before she comes out to her mom. They encourage her to ask out a girl in one of her classes, celebrating when she gets her first date.
Over the years, Yachi meets many other queer people who become incredibly important to her. But she never loses touch with Akaashi. The connection they made that one summer day in high school remains a defining moment in her life.
She’ll forever be grateful.
//
Thanks for reading! I wanted to expand this for A03 but as usual these days, I lost the motivation. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Please REBLOG and/or REPLY if you did. 🥰❤️ Thanks for your continued support!
#yachi hitoka#akaashi keiji#bokuaka#haikyuu!!#my writing#fanfic#drabble#ficlet#bkak#akaboku#hq fanfic#haikyuu
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lawsunoda smut plz
Even back in the junior series, Liam knew he wasn't completely straight.
He couldn't explore much though because of how it might put his career in jeopardy. But now he was in F1, and his attraction to men was becoming a serious problem.
Warnings: top yuki, both of them being absolute idiots, wet dreams and cold showers galore, coming in pants (TWICE), tension, Liam being so far in the closet his gaydar is broken, handjobs, blowjobs, first time getting fucked, cum eating, the pacing is atrocious but if I look at this anymore I will have a breakdown
Growing up, he'd often see his friends almost naked and find them just as (if not more) appealing than women.
He'd had silly crushes, and wet dreams, and even some wank-bank worthy fantasies that had kept him occupied on lonely nights, but nothing more than that.
And in this field it was imperative to keep this kind of thing a secret, in case someone got the idea of outing you to ruin your career.
He didn't dare try and find hookups or anything of that sort in case it got out.
So that part of him stayed well hidden.
He even got a girlfriend, who he liked very much, but it certainly had the added bonus of eliminating any suspicion.
Until Daniel Ricciardo broke his hand and he was promoted to full time Formula 1 driver.
George Russell, the head of the GPDA, took one look at him and said “If anyone gives you any trouble about being gay, you come to me. I don't tolerate any workplace discrimination against my fellow drivers”
Liam thanked him, but assured him he had a girlfriend, to which George just chuckled and replied:
“Yeah, we all have girlfriends mate”
He winked at him conspiratorially and walked off , leaving Liam red-faced and sweating at the implications.
Yuki was a pleasure to be around. He was a bit flirty, sometimes bordering on pushy, but he was nice outside of racing and they got along better than most teammates did.
They'd known each other a long time, being in RedBull's junior program and being roommates back in Milton Keynes before Yuki had moved to Italy.
Yuki knew about his… preferences, because on more than one occasion they'd gotten drunk and talked for hours about all sorts of things while under the influence of good booze and good pizza, in the safe space of their apartment.
But they never mentioned it otherwise, and Liam wasn't even sure Yuki remembered those conversations because he was a massive lightweight and was always incredibly hungover the next day.
That didn't change the fact that when Liam became his teammate, Yuki’s old crush came back in full force, and he followed him around like a lost puppy and tried to rile him up 24/7.
Liam soon realised, that Yuki flirted a lot more with him than any of the other drivers did with each other.
Hell the Ferrari drivers were bad enough, but Yuki took it to a whole new level.
It wasn't outright “I like you, I want to fuck” kind of flirting.
It was more, “poke me and I'll poke you back until we wrestle and inevitably violently make out” kind of flirting.
Which was objectively worse for Liam because like any man, he wasn’t sure if Yuki was genuinely interested or if he was making up the whole thing in his head.
And if there's one thing more terrifying than being outed by a rival, it's being rejected and then outed by a friend.
The teasing continued throughout the season, Yuki getting bolder with every move.
Yuki had been pretty liberal for most of his life, never taking himself too seriously.
He wasn't exactly out, but most of the grid knew he liked to fool around with just about anyone, and he’d had a few male lovers so far.
None of them were as captivating as Liam though.
Liam hadn't got the memo however, because no matter how hard Yuki tried, he couldn't seem to get his intentions across to him.
Every time he tried to initiate his equivalent of gay chicken, (roasting Liam until he hopefully shut him up by kissing him), Liam would just laugh it off as friendly banter.
Yuki was going to have to try a different tactic. Perhaps a more direct approach would do the trick.
The opportunity arose in the form of a bad romcom trope coming to life.
The hotel they were staying in for the Vegas GP had got the reservation wrong.
Either that or the team had purposely booked a double room to cut on expenses.
It didn't matter because either way, Liam and Yuki were going to be sharing a bed for the next few nights.
That was fine. It was all fine.
Liam was a bit nervous but Yuki was secretly thanking the universe for this opportunity.
“No matter what happens, you can't fall in love with me” Liam said teasingly in front of the poor receptionist, who had just broken the news to them and handed them a singular key, but Yuki just smirked at him.
“Too late” he snatched the key from Liam's hand “I already jerk off every night thinking about you”
Liam choked on his spit as he followed him, quickly apologizing to the woman for Yuki's joke before scurrying away in embarrassment.
“Yuki you can't just say that!” His face looked like it had been painted rosso corsa as they crossed the threshold of their room.
“Why? It's true” Yuki laughed humourlessly.
Liam didn't pick up on it though, chuckling to himself as he nervously muttered Jesus Christ under his breath.
They shuffled around the room, pulling stuff out of their suitcases, taking turns showering, and ordering room service for dinner.
“Practice is going to be chaos tomorrow I reckon” Liam said as he chewed on a barely seasoned piece of chicken from his diet-compliant meal.
Yuki hummed in agreement, this was Vegas, the entertainment capital of the world after all.
“Who do you think is most likely to get married in the chapel?” Yuki asked after a few minutes silence.
“I don't know… maybe Lando and Oscar? But they're so shy around each other they'd have to be black out drunk” he laughed and Yuki giggled.
“Definitely, but I think Charles and Max are the ones that need it the most. They both have too many sticks up their asses”
They joked comfortably for a bit and for a while it felt like they were roommates again.
They got ready for bed, both quite tired from their day of travelling.
Yuki was just in a pair of boxers and Liam froze, staring at the extremely fit man in front of him.
He was obviously a lot more jacked than in their junior days, but Liam was taken by surprise at just how fucking thick the man was.
His arms… his chest… his thighs…
Yuki caught him staring and wrongly assumed it was because he was uncomfortable.
“Sorry… I always sleep in just boxers, is that okay?”
It was unreasonable to expect Liam to remember Yuki's sleeping habits from several years ago, but he still felt like a moron as his eyes roamed across the other man's body.
“Yeah, totally cool I'd just… forgotten. You know since… when we lived together… we had separate beds and stuff…” Liam gulped and pulled his own shirt off to avoid saying anything even more embarrassing.
Yuki laughed. “Yes, usually people sleep together before moving in with each other but…” he winked and slid under the covers, sinking into the mattress and yawning.
“Yeah…” Liam's voice cracked and he followed suit, leaving as much space between their bodies as possible while facing away from the other man.
“Night Yuki” he said quickly, turning the lamp off on his bedside table.
“Goodnight Liam” Yuki sighed, doing the same and falling asleep within about a minute.
Liam just lay there, waiting for sleep to take him, as his mind wandered back to Yuki's body.
He could feel his body heat despite the space between them.
He thought about how Yuki had changed so much since their junior days.
Not just physically, he was a lot more confident, more assertive and more outgoing despite his rather shy nature.
He was also funny and hot, and really one of the best friends Liam had at the moment. Certainly the one he'd known the longest.
He managed to fall asleep sometime around 3, and his dreams consisted of short, jacked, faceless men doing all sorts of things to his body.
The person seemed so familiar, yet so unknown as his hands trailed down his back.
One minute he was on all fours, getting railed, the next he was on top, kissing down a toned pair of pecs as his hips slapped against hairy thighs wrapped around his waist.
Despite never having been with a man, it all seemed so incredibly real and natural to him, as if his subconscious was trying to tell him this was what he was craving.
Then suddenly he was on his knees, a pair of hands tangled in his hair holding his head still as the man forced his cock down Liam's throat. He drooled around it, greedily slurping at it like a slut.
“Fuck Liam, your mouth is so good”
The voice was far away and sounded vaguely familiar, but he didn't pay it any mind, he was concentrating on the task at hand: letting this man use him for his pleasure.
He couldn't breathe, head swimming as his throat was abused over and over, swallowing every last drop of the mystery man's cum.
He woke with a start.
The bed next to him was empty and the sun was barely rising, so the room was still mostly in darkness.
He checked the time… 5:29?
They didn't need to be in the paddock before 11… so why was Yuki in the bathroom taking a shower this fucking early?
Before he could ask himself too many questions he realised that he felt damp.
Not like, sweaty damp, more like a hormonal teenager that's just come in his fucking boxers damp.
He slid a hand into his underwear to check and… yep.
That must have been what woke him up.
And another startling realisation hit.
The dream he was having was very fuzzy, but there was no mistaking the voice of Yuki Tsunoda moaning his name as he fucked his mouth.
So he'd just come in his pants from dreaming about his friend fucking his throat…
He jumped out of bed just as the sound of the shower being turned off hit his ears.
Ripping his soiled underwear off as quickly as he could, and making use of his limited time to clean himself up as best he could, he raced against the clock to try and get another pair of underwear on before Yuki came out.
Luckily he managed it, and he greeted his teammate just as he turned around to see the door of the bathroom open to reveal a dripping wet Yuki with a towel loosely wrapped around his hips.
Liam went in the bathroom after him, feigning needing a piss just to get out of the awkwardness and avoid staring at his teammates dripping body for longer than was strictly appropriate.
The first thing he noticed was that there were none of Yuki's many products in the bathroom.
No shampoo, no body wash… so he'd just got himself wet?
The other thing was a lack of steam and condensation in the small tiled room.
Yuki had had a cold shower.
Liam knew very well that Yuki hated cold showers with a passion.
Unfortunately it was nearly 6 in the morning and his brain was too tired to make any kind of deduction so he did actually end up having a piss then went back to bed and fell almost straight back asleep.
Yuki however could not.
Over on his side of the bed the mood was more one of mild panic.
Yuki had taken a cold shower in the hopes of getting rid of his erection, caused by Liam, who had been moaning in his sleep and grinding his hips into the bed until he came, moaning Yuki's name.
Liam had seemed so uninterested by Yuki's advances that the man was unsure what to make of the situation and his mind raced until it was time to get up and go.
Media day was awkward, to say the least. They didn't really speak to each other much, but the interactions they did have were short and even the RB staff had noticed how jumpy they were being around each other.
That night, Yuki didn't show up at the hotel. He texted Liam saying he was staying with Pierre and not to wait up for him.
So that was it then. Yuki knew what Liam had done the night before and this was the end of their friendship.
Liam didn't get much sleep, and Yuki indeed stayed with Pierre, ranting about what had happened for hours on end, much to the annoyance of the frenchman.
“Yuki” Pierre sighed dramatically “you are so dumb. You obviously like each other and are too scared to admit it”
“Maybe… I will try and talk to him tomorrow”
“Great” Pierre huffed “Now can we please go to sleep?”
They bid each other goodnight, but Yuki's head was still full of unanswered questions.
P1 and P2 went fine. But at the end of the day they were both exhausted and ready to get as much rest as possible for the next day.
They slid into bed, on the same sides as before, barely speaking a word to each other before passing out.
This time when Liam woke with a start, it wasn't because he'd come in his pants, it was because Yuki was spooning him.
He felt a hardness pressing into his ass and didn't take long to figure out what it was.
Yuki was hard, and gently rocking against him in his sleep.
Liam was torn. Should he wake Yuki up and risk the older man being disgusted and ending their friendship then and there? Or should he do nothing and pretend it never happened?
Somehow with the second option he felt like he was taking advantage of Yuki, given how he felt about the man, but selfishly, he decided he didn't care.
If this was to be between only him and himself that was fine.
He arched his back and pushed himself back towards Yuki, to give him more to work with, which worked a treat.
Yuki’s arm that was draped over Liam's body shifted and tightened around his middle, unconsciously pulling Liam's hips back harder against his movements.
Liam let out a shuddery breath as he let it happen, indulging in the strength of the other man, letting Yuki use his body to get off, and he had to reach down and squeeze a hand around his own cock to avoid a replay of the other night.
He only had so many pairs of spare boxers.
He briefly wondered whether Yuki would come against him, whether it would wake him up or not, and whether Yuki would hate himself for it in the morning.
The universe decided to be even crueler than that.
Yuki moaned Liam's name instead.
Quite loudly. And Liam's dick throbbed.
Yuki was dreaming about him?
Was the man's subconscious on drugs?
Why the fuck was he having sex dreams about Liam?
Yuki continued the gentle movement of his hips, letting out soft whines against the back of Liam's neck.
After at least half an hour, and an increasing sense of urgency in Yuki's moans, Liam thought the older man was finally going to come in his pants.
What happened was much more mortifying.
Yuki's body jolted slightly and he froze completely, halting his movements and his moans as the silence became deafening.
Liam knew Yuki had woken up, but Yuki didn't know whether Liam was awake, so they both stayed like that, hard and internally panicking, trying to pretend to be sleeping, for the next several hours.
Well, obviously they were exhausted the next day and did terribly in qualifying, both of them getting knocked out in Q1.
“This has to stop it's not healthy” Pierre said after Yuki had turned up in his hotel room, yet again.
“You don't understand. I want to fuck a straight man, there is nothing more terrifying than that”
Pierre rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“Yuki listen to me. Liam is not straight! It is obvious like the nose in the middle of the face but you refuse to see it”
��He has a girlfriend! He obviously does not want me!” Yuki whined and Pierre almost slapped him.
“Okay fuck this” he took his phone out and texted Liam to come over to his hotel, now.
Liam was a bit confused but he did as he was told, almost sprinting the short distance between the two hotels.
When Pierre opened the door he looked almost murderous.
“Tell Yuki you want him to fuck you, because you two are driving me mental. I am going to stay with Charles. Please don't get cum on the bed.”
And with that he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Liam stared at a mortified looking Yuki sitting on the bed.
“What is Pierre on about?” he asked tentatively.
Yuki sighed.
“I used to have a crush on you back when we were roommates, you know?”
Liam shook his head. “No I did not know that”
“And when you became my teammate this year it came back… And you told me before that you weren't completely straight but every time I have tried to flirt you have brushed me off so I assumed you don't want anything to do with me. Until the other night when you dreamed about fucking me”
Liam's jaw was on the floor at this point, and he blushed at the mention of that night.
He didn't quite know what to say, so the first thing that came out of his mouth didn't register in his brain until after he said it.
“Actually I was dreaming about you fucking my throat but yeah…” he corrected and they just stared at each other.
They didn't say anything for a long time, trying to decipher what this all meant.
After what felt like an eternity Yuki said:
“Can I please fuck your mouth?”
And Liam didn't hesitate, he dropped to his knees and crawled towards the bed.
“Please” he said, and Yuki groaned, rushing to get his pants down.
This was finally it.
Liam could have cried with relief as the salty taste of Yuki's precum hit his tongue.
He sank down to the base and Yuki choked on air as he watched Liam deepthroat him immediately.
Despite Liam never having been with a man, he’d tried and tested his gag reflex and had found out early on that he just didn't have one.
Yuki was the first lucky bastard to bear witness to that gift of nature.
The older man threaded his fingers through Liam's dirty blonde hair and held him in place while he thrusted his hips up into his waiting mouth.
Liam was in heaven, he was letting his throat be used for Yuki's pleasure and his cock was hard between his legs, so he squeezed a hand around himself.
He couldn't breathe because of how deep the other man was inside his throat, so Yuki pulled him off for a second, and stared at his hooded eyes and the line of spit linking his tip to Liam's swollen lips.
“My god Liam how many guys have you been practising on?”
“None” he rasped “You're my first”
He was about to take Yuki back into his mouth but the older man kept his head still and groaned.
“You have never been with a man?” he asked.
“Nopee…” Liam whined, trying to fill his mouth, but Yuki wasn't letting him. “Please, Yuki”
Yuki almost combusted on the spot.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck my mouth!” he cried impatiently.
Yuki didn't tease him any longer, he rubbed his tip on Liam's tongue teasingly before shoving himself back in to the base.
Liam moaned and his eyes rolled back into his skull as Yuki's balls slapped against his chin every time he buried himself in his throat.
He was floating, almost like in his dream, and his own cock was throbbing between his legs at the feeling of being used like this.
He shouldn't have been so turned on by a blowjob, but he could feel himself slowly edging closer to an orgasm as Yuki's hips stuttered.
“I’m going to come, where do you want it?” Yuki rasped.
Liam answered non-verbally by grasping his hips and shoving him as deep as he could down his throat, while looking up at Yuki with as much submissiveness as he could muster.
Yuki was a goner. The sight of his long time crush completely fucked out, greedily swallowing his cock was so fucking hot that he came down Liam's throat, toes curling at the sudden white hot pleasure coursing through his body.
Liam heaved in a breath as soon as his mouth was empty and it took him a second to realise he had in fact, come in his pants once again.
He was a grown man for fuck's sake.
Yuki had fallen backwards and was trying to catch his breath while staring at the ceiling, so thankfully, had not noticed.
Liam shuffled forwards on his knees and hugged Yuki's midriff, hiding his very red face.
The older man looked down and giggled. His hand went to stroke Liam's hair, fingernails scratching lightly at his scalp.
“Do you want me to repay the favour?” he asked, as Liam's body shuddered.
“No…” he whined into Yuki's shirt “I already uhh… came”
His voice squeaked in embarrassment and Yuki simultaneously melted and twitched with arousal.
“You came from giving me a blowjob?” he asked, bewildered.
“Yeah…” Liam moaned pitifully.
The silence stretched on and Liam was worried that Yuki was weirded out so he opened his mouth to apologise for ruining everything.
But before he could get a word out, Yuki sat up and pulled Liam up into his lap.
Liam was so shocked by the fact that Yuki had just lifted him up like a child, he felt his cock twitch at the casual display of strength.
“Can I see?” Yuki asked breathlessly while his brain short-circuited.
Liam undid his pants and Yuki wasted no time sliding his hand in and wrapping a hand around his half hard cock.
The stickiness made his own semi throb and he pulled his hand out to inspect it.
Liam was holding his breath, surely he wasn't going to-
He was.
He did.
Yuki licked his hand clean of his cum, while making full eye contact.
He hummed at the taste and when he’d finished, he put his hand flat on Liam’s chest to feel his heart beat.
Liam gasped and his hips bucked, brushing against Yuki's rapidly growing bulge. They were both getting extremely turned on again, and the heat in the room was becoming almost suffocating.
Yuki's hand went back into Liam’s pants and curled around his cock once more, to start jerking him off slowly, aided by the slick remnants of his cum.
His other hand went to the back of Liam's head and crashed their lips together in a heated kiss.
It had been a long time coming. A very long time coming.
Yuki could taste himself on Liam tongue and he groaned, tightening his grip which made Liam groan in turn and wrap his arms around Yuki's neck.
As they made out, the hand on Liam's neck went down to his ass and squeezed at the supple flesh, making Liam whine into the kiss.
“Yuki, I need you to fuck me, now” he gasped.
Yuki grunted and turned them around so that Liam was now lying on the bed with his legs hanging off the edge.
Yuki made quick work of both of their clothes and spread Liam's legs, hungrily taking in the other man’s vulnerable state.
“Wait, have you done this before?” he asked, suddenly remembering what he’d said earlier.
Liam shook his head and grinned at him, crossing his hands behind his head, which distracted Yuki slightly because the movement made his biceps flex invitingly.
“Nope… you get the honour of deflowering the great Liam Lawson”
He wasn't sure where this sudden cockiness was coming from, but Yuki just rolled his eyes and went over to the bedside table to grab a bottle of lube he knew Pierre always carried around with him. (Don't ask)
The first finger pushing inside was an odd sensation, but not unpleasant, Liam thought.
Yuki was very generous with the lube, determined to make Liam's first experience as comfortable as possible.
The second finger stretched him out a bit more, and he keened when Yuki accidentally brushed his prostate.
The new sensation sent a jolt up his spine and Yuki chuckled.
Soon enough he was ready, and his cock was angry and leaking all over his stomach.
Yuki somehow resisted the urge to lick it all up, instead he lined himself up and pushed in just an inch.
Liam moaned at the stretch and his hands gripped at the sheets.
“Relax Liam…” Yuki soothed him with a hand rubbing circles on his hip.
“Yes Yuki” he gasped and took a deep breath before the older man managed to push himself in further.
Once Yuki was fully sheathed, Liam could hardly breathe.
Yes it was his first time, but Yuki was big.
But he was also incredibly gentle, letting Liam adjust in his own time before starting to rock his hips in a slow rhythm.
Liam was on fire (in a good way).
He wrapped his legs around Yuki’s waist and pulled him down into a kiss.
The sound of their hips slapping echoed in the room, along with Liam's little ah… ah… ahh’s as Yuki's cock grazed his prostate on every increasingly powerful thrust.
“Yuki!” Liam cried out, overwhelmed by the sensations that were completely new to him.
They looked into each other's eyes as they got closer to their ends, foreheads pressed together making them go cross-eyed. (They looked like lovesick idiots)
“Yuki- fuck, christ I'm… I'm going to- I’m coming!” Liam sobbed as his orgasm washed over him in waves while Yuki chased his own.
“Liam!” he gasped into Liam's mouth as he came inside him, hips grinding against the spot that made him see stars.
They panted and moaned into each others' mouths, coming down from the intense high as Yuki found Liam's hand to intertwine their fingers.
“I love you” he muttered as he kissed down Liam's neck and across his chest.
Tears sprang to Liam's eyes. “Yuki”
The older man looked up at him expectantly.
“I love you too” he whispered and Yuki smiled.
They kissed again, softer and more controlled than before.
They had time.
Pierre wasn't coming back anytime soon so they made use of the en-suite bathroom to take a nice long shower, soaping each other up and giggling like children as they felt each other up.
On their way back to their room, Yuki shot Pierre a quick text.
“We did not get cum on the bed, but you will need to buy more lube”
Pierre must have been waiting with Charles for a sign of life, because his reply was immediate.
“For fuck’s sake, Yuki. I told you to stop stealing my lube!”
“But congratulations or whatever”
#my thots#yuki thots#liam thots#lawsunoda#liam lawson#yuki tsunoda#liam lawson smut#yuki tsunoda smut#liam lawson x yuki tsunoda#f1#formula 1#ask#request
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Could I get a Hc for how the M6 would react to an Mc that has regeneration like an axolotl due to it being the fools body?
Like during the ending of the route or during a fight post route Mc loses a finger or an arm and as their recovering they notice it growing back and like a few weeks or a month later it's like they never lost it to begin with. Due to how they view themselves and the fools body making them look like how they ses themselves.
Similarly to how Lucio lost his arm so long ago his metal arm is just a part of him so when he took the fools body it come with the metal arm.
(Let me know if it's not a good Hc idea and I'll change it for a different one.)
The Arcana HCs: When MC can regenerate their limbs
Julian
His first thought is "I have to keep them away from Valdemar"
His second thought is more along the lines of a very intrigued medical scholar. He's dying to figure out exactly how this works - how does your body know what to form and where??
His third thought definitely bears his younger sister's influence, because it's the sleep-deprived, melodramatic theatre kid version of "twinsies!!!"
Yes, twinsies! Because now you're one of the only other people in the world who knows what it's like to have crazy regenerative abilities! (though, he gave his up, but still -)
Will chart the growth of the limb and regularly ask you if you got any new injuries that day (obviously he hopes the answer is no, but if it's yes he has multiple reasons to want to know now)
Occasionally thinks himself into an anxiety spiral worrying that he's treating you too much like a medical phenomenon and not enough like his beloved partner. A round of smooches will take care of that
Asra
Honestly? They're more relieved, than anything
He is uncomfortably aware of the level of responsibility he has for yoinking you back to this plane of existence and knowing that you have this safety net for physical injuries is very reassuring
That said, they're still very curious about just how far it goes (not that they'd ever try to find out)
May or may not add "lizard" to his list of pet names for you, because lizards are also cute and known for losing limbs and then regenerating them for self preservation reasons
May or may not study just enough of the magic involved to suggest trying to grow said limb to be ... different than the previous one. You could grow an arm of neon tentacles!
May or may not regularly use body paint to turn your slowly regenerating limb into some kind of illusion, like a large, funky looking hamster hanging onto your shoulder (with your permission)
They love you regardless of how many limbs you have
Nadia
To say that she is intrigued is an understatement. She is borderline obsessed with your slowly reappearing limb
Much of that has to do with her desire to provide for you and the duty she's given herself of making sure that you are taken care of
Plenty of that has to do with what an excellent excuse it is to initiate touch and general affection
But a good portion of that is because, while she can tell you're a unique case, it's the kind of ability that would do so much good if she could find a way to recreate it even a little bit
She's not going to ask you to do anything unreasonable, but she might suggest allowing lead researchers in the medical field to chart your progress and study it in case they find anything
On another note, she does love to make you feel and look your best. If you've lost an arm and your outfit has gloves, you'd best believe she's ordering a mini one for your tiny hand
Pulls out old baby jewelry to try on it while it's small
Muriel
He's not going to lie, he does find it just a little disturbing
He's not going to go as far as saying that it's unnatural (he knows of plenty of creatures who can do the same thing) but it's definitely not a normal thing for humans to do
It's far outweighed by his gratitude that you're able to heal from such difficult injuries to this extent. He likes your limbs :)
He's also terrified of accidentally ruining whatever unforeseen magical force is allowing your body to manifest itself back together
You're clearly already very good at losing limbs! He doesn't want to make you lose another one! What if it's like one of those budding flowers that's really sensitive to touch?
He doesn't want to find that out the hard way! What's he going to do if he reaches for your mini-hand and the rest of your mini-arm comes with it? Stick it back on??
The above freakout is happening on the inside. On the outside, he's avoiding that area of your body and being very protective of it
Portia
It goes without saying that she thinks this is pretty cool
First off, you lost a limb, which is badass by default, and now you're completely regrowing it on accident - that's amazing!
She does casually mention that she is curious about just how far your body can regenerate itself at one point, but that's just idle wondering unless it's something you want to look into too
Fascinated by your mini-limb while it's growing back
Comes up with a whole list of pet names for it (squishy, tiny, silly, mr peach, miss millie, The Growth ...) but she mostly sticks to referring to it as your baby
"Good morning MC! And good morning squishy! How's your baby growing?" (all this is said while she hands you your preferred morning beverage and rubs the affected limb like it's a belly)
Overall she's so adaptable that she kind of ... forgets that it's weird. At least, until someone else sees it for the first time
Then she'll tell them it's because her shrink ray missed
Lucio
Seriously?
No no no no no -- SERIOUSLY?!?!?
He's been living with a prosthetic limb (albeit a really cool one) for TWENTY YEARS NOW, and you just randomly start growing yours back just like that? JUST LIKE THAT?! NO!!!
He's not mad because he thinks you don't deserve it! You do deserve it! You saved the world without having to make a life full of criminal oopsies first, and you did it while you rehabilitated him!!
He's mad because even if he doesn't deserve it more than you do, he wants it more than you do! WHY DIDN'T THE ARCANA OFFER HIM HIS ARM BACK, HUH?!
(This is a very good point at which to tell him that you think the metal arm is attractive. He will quickly switch gears into crooning and flirting at you and rarely bring it up again)
He does often comment on its growth patterns, and has definitely made an innuendo or two about it for funsies
#ask arcana brainrot#the arcana#the arcana headcanons#the arcana hc#the arcana game#asra the arcana#julian the arcana#nadia the arcana#muriel the arcana#portia the arcana#lucio the arcana#asra alnazar#julian devorak#nadia satrinava#muriel of the kokhuri#portia devorak#lucio morgasson
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I've seen many twst fics where Yuu/MC/Reader is turned into a child or a baby and either they retain their present memories or fully go back to how they were as a child and doesn't remember any of the twst boys.
But I still have to find a fic where there's a mix of both! Imagine this: Sweet little yuu/MC/Reader getting caught up in a alchemy accident in class and suddenly they don't know how they got there or who in the world are these people around them, but, after being calmed down from their initial shock, they realize... Some of theses faces do look familiar!
Sometimes Yuu/MC/Reader remembers only a name, a feeling or what one the twst boys was to them... Either way, there's suddenly a dispute among the boys of who Yuu/MC/Reader remembers and therefore one their favorites while waiting for the potion to wear off ( aka Chaos ensues).
Of course, who Yuu/MC/Reader remembers would be up to personal preferences, but I can't help but imagine the funiest interactions:
Crowley assuming that Yuu/MC/Reader remembers him ( Because of course they would! Crowley is such a kind and generous principal after all! Sure he must be a very special person to Yuu/MC/Reader, correct?) and they just... Don't. And after further thought, Yuu/MC/Reader manages to remember a gut feeling that Crowley was like their deadbeat uncle or something and, depending of how old they turned into to, tells that square to his face with no filter whatsoever ( Children are menaces dude).
Yuu/MC/Reader not remembering Grim at first, but after he starts trying to jog up their memory by talking about who "The Great Grim-sama" is, Yuu/MC/Reader immediately remembers him as "Oh yes!! Grim, my asshole furball baby!!" and now refuses to go anywhere without Grim for too long ( Kind reminds me of Lilo and Stich... hehehehe)
And now, my personal favorite, Yuu/MC/Reader taking a while to recognize most people, but as soon as their eyes land on ( *Insert your favorite twst boy here* ), they light up and go running towards him, yelling out his name and hugging him, making every other boy who was around to witnesses this kinda of frustrated because now everybody knows who the "favorite" is. Sbdbddnndndndjd
( And if you're like me and thought of Malleus in the last scenario, imagine that instead of calling out his name, Child! Yuu/MC/Reader calls him "TSUNOTARO" with all of their little lung power and now everybody is terrified for this child's life, while Malleus goes ":D !!", picks them up and starts chatting to his now literal child of man like always. )
So yeah these are my headcanons of how this scenario would play out! Feel free to add more to it if you'd like.
#I know this is a clichd scenario but I just love it#twst scenarios#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#mystuff#twst x yuu#yuu/mc#twst yuu#twst mc#twst headcanons#twisted wonderland headcanons#my stuff
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The Gate of Salvation [3/3]
[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]
[ warnings: fingering, kissing, smut, sexual tension, angst, religious guilt, doubts related to faith, chauvinism ]
[ description: During the conclave, a new pope is elected, but to everyone's surprise, he does not intend to show himself to the crowds waiting for him. His ideas terrify the cardinals, and one of them convinces his niece, who is studying marketing, to talk to the new head of the Catholic Church in his presence. Main theme: sexual tension & holy touch. ]
A mini-series created as a thank you and celebration of my 2'500 followers. I initially plan that it will have about 3 chapters.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
The Song of Songs (Oneshot) Death and Ressurection (Oneshot)
Aemond as a Pope Edit Series Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
After what they had done they lasted for a moment in the tight embrace of each other's arms, trying to calm their breathing, his hand stroking her soft hair.
"Can I stay with you tonight?" He asked so quietly that she barely heard him; she felt a tightening in her heart at the thought of how much she wanted nothing more and how inappropriate it was.
Nonetheless, she knew they were both scared, embarrassed and needed their closeness, proof that although the situation was complicated and hopeless, they were in it together.
"Yes." She whispered and heard him sigh loudly in relief, as if he feared that she now abhorred and hated him, that she would betray him, sell the story to the newspapers, destroy him as a man, as a priest and as a pope.
She thought that they were both complicit in this situation, and although she felt remorse knowing that she had contributed to him breaking his celibacy, some kind of warmth filled her lower abdomen.
She thought with despair that she had fallen in love with him.
She looked in her drawers for some of her uncle's old tracksuits that he had left in his flat and gave them to him to change into, showing him beforehand how to turn on the washing machine so he could clean the ones he came in. Taking advantage of the fact that he was in the bathroom, she changed into dry underwear and sighed quietly, somehow feeling clean again.
She waited for him lying on her bed – when he came out of her bathroom he looked at her for a moment standing in the entrance, clearly not knowing what to say, his face just like hers, red from tears and emotion.
"I'm sorry." He whispered helplessly. She sighed quietly, raising herself up on her elbow, looking at him with understanding.
"Do not apologise, Holy Father."
He swallowed heavily and moved towards her, startling her when he lay down opposite her and immediately hid his face in the material of her shirt between her breasts, his large hands clamped down on her back.
"Can you embrace me?" He asked uncertainly with a regret and embarrassment from which she felt a squeeze in her throat, the fingers of one of her hands sinking into his short hair while the other wrapped around his waist.
She felt him tense and wondered sadly after what she had learned, if anyone had ever hugged him, if he had found his place and understanding in someone's arms.
"Can I fall asleep like this?" He asked again. She sighed quietly, leaned in and kissed his hair, stroking it with her fingers – she felt a shiver pass through him, his hands clenched tighter on the material of her shirt.
"Yes." She whispered; she felt him move closer to her, snuggling his whole body into her, felt his desperation, the fact that he was and needed to be vulnerable, weak, protected, that he wanted to feel and love, wanted to suffer, to experience what others did.
"If it's a sin, why do I feel so peaceful?" He asked quietly, one of his hands trailing up and down her spine making wonderful shivers run through her – she nuzzled her nose into his hair, thinking on the answer.
She understood perfectly what he had in mind, because she felt the same.
She felt a kind of shame at the thought that her grief and remorse was less than she had expected and was only concerned with the fact that she was afraid someone would find out about this.
"I don't know, Holy Father. I am ashamed that my soul is so quiet now. Perhaps it hasn't yet come to us what has happened?" She asked quietly, watching as her fingers tentatively played with his hair. She heard his murmur of contentment, his face pressed tighter into her chest.
She wondered how it was possible that he could breathe in such a position.
"I need you by my side if I am to keep my sanity. I need you because Vatican is like a dark, black hole, like hell on earth, the centre of Sodom and Gomorrah." He whispered into the fabric of her shirt, his voice vibrating through her whole body, apart from their breathing all that could be heard was the quiet ticking of the clock standing on her bedside table.
She swallowed loudly, feeling her heart begin to beat faster, torn internally by her own insecurities and doubts; he felt it, his fingers gripped the fabric of her shirt tighter.
"It's too late. Too late. I can't take it back. This is God's answer to my prayers, to my plea that He not leave me alone. He sent you to me as a sign, as my revelation and salvation." He muttered, and she clenched her eyelids, feeling tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, hugging him tighter, realising with despair that he had possessed her the very first moment she saw him.
"A sign of depravity and bitterness? A taste of sorrow and eternal thirst? That is what I am and will be for you, Holy Father." She exhaled with difficulty, feeling her body begin to twitch, her breast trembled in a heavy breath. He raised himself on his elbow and looked at her, his large hand touched her cheek with a tenderness and respect from which she felt a squeeze in her throat.
"No. No, you are my joy. My flower garden to which I escape with my thoughts when I am tired. My faithful need me, and I need you." He said softly, wiping with his thumb from her warm cheeks the tears that ran down her face.
"I will not go to a monastery, Holy Father. It is not my vocation." She whispered and he pressed his lips together, swallowing with difficulty.
She could see in his gaze that he was struggling with himself and his disappointment, that he wanted to somehow make sure that he would have her exclusively as a man and a Pope.
"So what is?" He asked finally; she looked at him with her eyebrows arched in pain, realising with that she didn't know the answer to that question, that she didn't know what she wanted to do after university, where she wanted to live, how she saw the next years of her life.
"I don't know. It's a very difficult question." She muttered in a trembling voice, bursting into sobs when this time it was he who pulled her close and embraced her, letting her snuggle into his chest, locking her in a tight grasp of his arms as she did before, placing warm, tender kisses on her hair, combing through it with his fingertips.
"− shhh − it's okay − I'm here for you, child − I won't let you get lost − I'll take care of you −" He whispered, and although she knew there was something ambiguous and indecent in his words, she felt relieved, her fingers tightened into fists on the material of his sweatshirt, his wonderful scent filling her lungs.
There was something wonderful and tender about the fact that neither of them tried to touch each other anymore in a way that could be perceived as purely physical – they just cuddled, stroked and intertwined their fingers. She felt the heat in her chest every time she turned in bed lying in his arms facing him, his lips placing a lingering, soft, wet kiss on her forehead.
"− sleep, child − sleep, I am with you −" He whispered tenderly. She felt butterflies in her stomach and sighed softly, cuddling her face into the hollow of his neck smelling of his perfume as they fell asleep again.
It was the most beautiful night of her life.
She was woken in the morning by the sizzle of oil in the pan; she opened her eyes, unsure for a moment where she was and pulled herself up on her bed, frowning.
She got up and walked out of her bedroom into the corridor, but stopped immediately with her heart beating fast, seeing him standing with his back to her in her kitchen, again all dressed in a white tracksuit. She realised by the smell that he was making scrambled eggs.
The Pope she had spent the night with was just making them breakfast in her kitchen.
Good God, she thought with amusement and walked closer – he heard the sound of her footsteps and turned over his shoulder, a soft contentment on his face.
"Good morning. We have to leave soon, so I decided to prepare something quick. I didn't want to wake you up. You were sleeping so peacefully." He hummed with some kind of warmth and tenderness from which her heart beat faster; she swallowed quietly, trying not to think about the fact that she felt his words deep between her thighs.
She wanted to ask him if he really thought she should still be working for him, to tell him that it wasn't wise, but she realised that there was no desire in her to object.
I will take care of you.
She wasn't sure what he meant by those words, but she knew that some part of her wanted his assurance to come true.
After a short prayer, which took her completely by surprise, and which apparently was a daily occurrence for him before every meal, they ate breakfast while listening to the morning broadcasts on the radio.
She didn't know where she should be looking, so she just focused on her plate, tasting what he had prepared, finding to her surprise that his scrambled eggs were perfectly fried and spiced. She grunted quietly and lifted her gaze to him when she suddenly remembered something important, from which she felt a cold sweat on her back.
"We should go to confession…shouldn't we?" She asked, not daring to suggest for what reason, figuring he would know what she meant. He raised his surprised gaze at her and took a sip of his coffee, then set his mug down on the table.
"Of course." He replied, and she lowered her gaze to her plate, feeling that she had lost all appetite, terrified of the humiliation that awaited her and what she had to confess.
She allowed herself to be touched by the priest and took pleasure in it herself.
"Go to Father Lenz, I will also pay him a visit. He is a very good confessor. He's the only one I trust." He said matter-of-factly, throwing her a look that told her that gossip spreads like a disease in Rome and Vatican and she could not confide such a sin to just anyone.
Clearly not everybody respected the seal of confession, she thought with dismay.
"I'll go now." He said getting up abruptly from his seat, taking his player out of his pocket, putting his earphones into his ears and pulling his hood over his head. "I'll meet you in the Vatican."
He said and simply walked out, closing the door behind him, leaving her with a look of disbelief on her face.
She covered her mouth with her hand, clenching her eyelids and swallowed loudly, wondering what she was actually doing.
What had exactly happened between them?
Who was she to him now?
His lover?
She thought with pain that as long as he was by her side everything was well, but now that she was left alone with her thoughts she was crushed by the weight of what had taken place, of who the person who had touched her was.
What they had done.
She felt tears of fear and shame under her eyelids, of bitterness and anger that he wasn't just an ordinary man about whom she could have some hope, that even if not now, in the future their relationship would stop being something bad.
In their case there was no such possibility, what they had done was a contradiction of everything they should represent, what he symbolised as the Head of the Church.
She thought sadly that he was wrong.
That it was not God who had sent her to him, but the Devil, as a temptation that would lead to his downfall.
She drove to the Vatican with a heavy heart, sad, distracted and heartbroken, thinking with shame that she had acted like an animal that couldn't control itself and lowered her gaze, looking down at her hands.
When she got out of the car in the courtyard Father Lenz was waiting for her as usual. They both moved inside the building, but she stopped him in mid-step, placing her hand on his arm.
"I would like to make a confession." She muttered, the man cast her a calm glance over his shoulder and nodded.
She thought with shame that he already knew everything.
To her surprise, he did not take her to the basilica or any chapel but to the garden; they sat side by side on one of the white stone benches, the sun shining high above them.
She wondered for a moment if she should keep the formula, but decided after a moment that it was just a waste of time.
"I have sinned, Father. I gave in to the weakness of my flesh. I led a clerical person to his and my moral downfall." She muttered, feeling that with every word she spoke her voice quivered more and more, tears of regret and bitterness gathered in the corners of her eyes.
A long silence answered her, during which she only looked at her knees, wiping her wet cheeks with her hands, trying to calm her ragged, broken breathing.
"You are not responsible for anyone's downfall but your own, child, though I think you are using too solemn words. What happened?" He asked, although she knew perfectly well from his posture that the Pope himself had confessed to him exactly the same things she was telling him now.
"He touched me and brought me to fulfilment with my permission." She whispered in shame, swallowing loudly, feeling small, dirty, worthless, breathless at the memory of how wonderful it had been to fall asleep in his embrace and wept quietly.
"What happened next?" He asked calmly and she sighed heavily, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.
"We went to sleep, cuddled together. But nothing more happened between us." She mumbled, fiddling with the material of her black dress between her fingers in a nervous gesture, her leg bouncing with stress.
She wondered how she could have done it.
"Hm." He hummed and sighed quietly, bowing his head.
"I'm going to tell you something now, child. I'm going to tell you this as a man, not a priest, and you're going to listen to me. Vatican devours people. It sucks the energy out of them, their strength, their free will. Cardinals manage to believe in God or do a merciful deed, however, they are first and foremost businessmen, officials, monarchs. Do you know why Cardinal Targaryen was elected Pope?
Because they thought he would be easy to manipulate.
Quiet, withdrawn, reading books or concentrating on prayer. He spoke to no one, befriended no one, confided in no one. They thought they had planted someone lost, weak-willed and without an opinion on Peter's throne. Meanwhile, he had fooled them all. He planned it deliberately."
He spoke calmly, looking ahead with blank eyes. She stared at him in disbelief, feeling her heart pounding hard, her throat squeezed so tightly that she breathed with difficulty.
Meanwhile, he had fooled them all.
He had planned it deliberately.
Was it the same with her?
Was it possible that her uncle wasn't the only one treating her as a pawn?
"He never confided in anyone, never spoke to anyone for longer than necessary. He doesn't let anyone sit or eat in his presence, he locks himself in his solitary room and sits there for hours. Except when you visit the Vatican. I exchange a maximum of four sentences with him during the day, while with you he talks for hours." He said looking at her finally, the expression on his face gentle and heartfelt, her lips parted in disbelief, her cheeks hot with emotion.
"He has fallen in love with you. He had already admitted this to me after confession, asking me for advice. And although it creates a temptation to sin I told him to keep you close. I believe that God sent you to him like cold water to a man who has sunk into hell and is burning in it every day. He is completely alone. Despite my deepest efforts, I cannot help him."
He muttered, covering his face with his hand and she watched in disbelief as the grown man sitting next to her burst out crying like a small child. She pressed her fingers to her lips and stifled the sobs that wanted to escape her throat, hot tears one by one running down her cheeks.
He fell in love with you.
"He told me he trusts only you, Father." She whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm her ragged breathing. Father Lenz looked at her and laughed in a way that made her feel at least uncomfortable.
"He knows that I report on him. He knows that one of the cardinals, a fierce opponent of your uncle, is blackmailing me. But I don't always tell him about what I see and hear. Not about everything. Do you understand?" He asked in a trembling voice, and she nodded, looking at him with horror and fear, feeling the cold sweat on her back.
"Through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." He said lowly, making the sign of the cross in the air with his hand in front of her.
"Amen." She mumbled, not looking at him but at her feet, quivering all over, tears of disbelief and despair making the world around her seem blurred.
"Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good."
"His mercy endures for ever." She whispered and rose from her seat, moving quickly ahead, covering her mouth with her hand, bursting into hysterical sobs, feeling that she had panicked.
She headed towards his office where he usually worked, the same one her uncle had taken her to when she first saw him. One of the guards, on seeing her, simply opened the door, as if he had been warned that she would come.
She walked slowly inside, and the door closed behind her with a loud clatter of wood.
She looked to her left and saw his figure clad in a white cassock, sprawled comfortably in his chair, reading some documents. He lifted his gaze to her and for a moment just looked at her, as if shocked by her condition, then rose quickly, staring at her with concern.
"Good God, what's happened?" He asked in a trembling voice, his eyebrows raised in fear.
She knew she wasn't allowed to do this, she knew she shouldn't, that if anyone saw them it would be over, but she couldn't help herself.
She wept as she ran to him and pressed her face to his chest, feeling the cold cross hanging from his neck against her cheek, embracing him tightly around his waist, clenching her fingers on his cassock.
"Holy Father." She mumbled like a helpless child who needed someone to lead her by her hand, like a frightened bird that had fallen out of its nest, like a ship that was unable to find its way to port.
"− calm down, child − I'm here − shhh −" He hushed her, sinking his face into the top of her head, stroking her neck and back with his hands with calm, tender movements full of affection, his wonderful scent filling her lungs.
"− it's okay −" He whispered soothingly, combing his fingers through her hair – she felt a wonderful shiver ran down her spine every time he did it and closed her eyes thinking only of how safe she felt.
She murmured quietly, relaxing and calming as she felt his lips on her head, heard him place drawn out, wet kisses on her hair.
"I love the way you smell. I saw your perfume in your bathroom and bought myself one just like it so I can remind myself of you when I fall asleep here alone. After my escape they increased my protection, they don't leave my side." He whispered softly, and she felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought of how deep his feeling, his devotion, his commitment, his desire was.
"I want you to pose for a painting made on my request as Mary Magdalene."
She could not put into words how ambiguous, lewd, intimate his proposal was. He gave her time to think, indicating that he would respect her refusal, but said that he wanted to have her by his side also in the quarters in which he slept, said he would hang the painting opposite his bed.
When she asked him if this sight would distract his thoughts from God he replied that he had never felt the presence of God as strongly as when he thought of her.
Lying in her room in complete darkness, she thought about what Father Lenz had told her.
He has fallen in love with you.
Vatican devours people.
He is completely alone.
She closed her eyes, swallowing loudly, thinking about the question he had asked her that morning regarding what she thought her vocation was, and wondered if in some incomprehensible way God was trying to tell her something.
I believe that God sent you to him like cold water to a man who has sunk into hell and is burning in it every day.
She felt tears under her eyelids at the thought of his sullen, absolute loneliness among people who were so vain and power-hungry, and she wondered where he was going to get the strength to fight against paedophilia, abuse of power, bribes and profligacy when almost everyone around him was content with this state of affairs.
She found herself wondering if her presence could support him in some way, give him courage, a sense that there was someone by his side who didn't care about his position or money, someone who simply loved him, gave him comfort and tenderness in moments of doubt.
She thought with a kind of relief that there was nothing disgusting, nothing disturbing in this thought, that although certain things would remain taboo, the feeling that God had aroused in her heart could not be wrong in nature, because it did not stem from a desire to objectify.
For some reason she felt the desire to sacrifice herself for him, to suffer for him, to die every day for the love of him.
She agreed to his proposal.
He made sure that the painter's arrival at the Vatican was covered by complete secrecy – it was agreed that she would stay until the evening to work and then come to one of the small rooms where they would wait for her.
When she walked in she saw them in half darkness, the Pope dressed in his white cassock with a large cross on his chest was speaking with a middle-aged man about what stood before them, a small platform on which lay an ornate cushion and a cloth on which lay a skull, the only source of light was the tall and low candles standing around on the floor.
When they saw her the Pope grunted and nodded, folding his arms behind him.
"Come closer, child. This is Marco, the painter I mentioned to you." He said softly, though his expression stern, contentment lurked in his eye.
She swallowed loudly and walked towards them, feeling her heart pounding like mad, terrified of what they had come up with, of someone catching them.
"Marco has prepared a robe for you to pose in. Wear just that and let your hair down. We'll wait in the other room." He said calmly and nodded at the man, walking out through a small door, closing it behind them.
She was left alone.
She walked over to a chair on which lay a cream-coloured, simple linen long robe – when she picked it up she found it pleasant to the touch, with pieces of cloth hanging down the sides to tie around her waist.
She stripped naked and, with trembling hands, placed the garment over herself, arranging it like a bathrobe, tying a knot at the waist so that the whole thing would hold together somehow and not reveal anything. She pulled the pins out of her hair and undid her braid, letting her dark curls fall to her shoulders.
"I'm ready." She muttered in a trembling voice and heard the sound of the door opening.
The Pope stepped inside and paused, letting out a loud breath as if this sight surprised him, his lips parted slightly; she felt heat in her lower abdomen when she saw him involuntarily lick them with his tongue.
"Lie down and take this skull in your hands. Yes, just like that." He said, stepping closer to her, placing his warm hands on her shoulders covered by her soft cloth, arranging her as he had apparently seen her in his vision, moving the skull in her hands so that it lay in front of her, next to her body.
"Your body is to lie down, but your face must be tilted towards me. Perfect." Said Marco when she did as he asked, glancing down at his canvas and at her.
She felt strangely cornered and small, tense that all attention was on her.
"No. One more thing." The Pope hummed. A powerful shudder ran through her body, her lips parted in horror as he gently grabbed the fabric that covered her chest and pulled it aside, revealing a part of her breasts and the golden cross between them, her sternum and stomach, just a hint more and her nipples would be visible.
"Gorgeous." He whispered, looking at her with a gaze that was dark, hazy and dreamy, she felt the muscles inside her clench desperately around nothing at his words, her breath stopped in her throat.
She was terrified and aroused.
She was wet.
"Do not be afraid, child. Marco does not feel lust at the sight of a woman's body. You are safe here." He said softly, with a kind of need to soothe her, to give her the feeling that he did not desire to take advantage of her, that this was about something more. She sighed quietly as his hand rose to her cheek, closing her eyes in relief when his thumb ran over her warm skin.
"Beautiful." He murmured and stood up, looking at her with proud satisfaction, as if he had just gazed upon some mystical scene, a revelation as if from the Bible, as if he truly believed her to be sacred.
He stood behind the painter, who had already begun to sketch her silhouette, and pressed his lips together, furrowing his brow.
"You have to properly render the shape of her lips, the warmth of her gaze, the softness of her hair. That's the most important thing to me, I want the most significant point of the painting to be her face." He said dryly, the man nodded wordlessly, apparently writing down his words in his head.
They stared at each other for a moment in silence, the loud ticking sound of a tall, large clock standing against the wall all around them.
"No. That's not the look I mean. Get out. Give us a moment." He said, startling them both. Marco grunted and put his pencil down on the easel, nodded and walked out into the other room, closing the door behind him.
"Did I do something wrong?" She asked in a trembling voice, raising herself up on her elbows, but he commanded her with a hand gesture not to get up and sat down beside her with a quiet rustling of the fabric of his cassock.
"No, sweet flower. But I can see your terror." He said softly, touching her cheek with his palm again, into which she immediately cuddled her face, desperately needing his touch, his closeness, his wonderful scent filling her lungs and her mind.
"Your tension." He added, his voice changed slightly, deep and sharp; she trembled hearing the way he said the words, involuntarily clenching her thighs.
He noticed it out of the corner of his eye and sighed quietly, as if he had been forced to the last resort, as if fate had left him no choice.
"It's all right now. Come here." He hummed, his hand sliding lower, in a gentle motion full of care and respect digging his fingers into the soft skin of her thigh hidden beneath the material of her robe – her heart began to pound like mad, her hands clenched on the pillow on either side of her head.
"Open." He commanded, and she shook her head quickly, her legs twitching all over in his grasp, feeling the sticky liquid running down her buttocks onto the bedding beneath her. He pressed his lips together, looking at her like a naughty child who refused to comply.
"Open, I say. I see your suffering. The Holy Father only wants to help you, child." He said calmly, as if he was explaining something obvious to her, something that was essential and necessary.
She swallowed loudly and parted her lips as her thighs finally opened, a sigh of contentment came from his nose – she tilted her head back suppressing a moan of surprise when his hand from her hip slid between the material of her robe, right between her legs.
"− it's alright − it's alright − shhhh −" He hushed her hearing her quiver of delight as the tips of his fingers ran over her fleshy womanhood, collecting her moisture, spreading it in circular, steady strokes around her bud, the tickle she felt in her lower abdomen was unbearable.
"− oh God −" She mumbled out, her body quivering before him with pleasure, her breathing quickened as he deliberately began to tease the spot between her folds, it seemed to her that the whole room around her was spinning, her heart pounding like mad, she could feel the tension even in her lips.
"− you shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain − if I do not close these lips will you continue to blaspheme? −" He growled and leaned over her, startling her completely when his full, swollen, hot lips pressed against hers in a sticky, hot kiss. She moaned loudly and threw her arms around his neck, his tongue forced its way deep into her throat with his sigh of delight.
Her body began to tremble and shudder beneath him as his fingertips dug into her hot folds, squeezing them with increasingly confident motions, teasing her slit, sliding in a little only to slide out a moment later and start all over again, his fingers wet with her moisture.
"− I'm wasting so much of your precious nectar − I should lick it all off, shouldn't I? −" He breathed out into her mouth. She clenched her hands tightly in his hair at his words and just came on his fingers with a surprised moan of pleasure, tilting her head back, his lips pressed against her neck, placing greedy, hot, wet kisses on it. She cried out when she felt his middle finger slide into her hot core and stay like that, her walls clenching around it again and again.
He lifted himself up on his hand, looking down at her, sliding his finger out of her in a slow, careful motion with a shameless click of her moisture.
"− Blessed Ludovica Albertoni −" He whispered and lifted his fingers to his face, sliding them deep into his mouth; this sight was so perverted that she looked away, her body breathless at the memory of the sarcophagus on which the saint cruves in wonderful convulsions, her face and parted lips expressing the relief of fulfilment.
"− Bernini −" She whispered in a trembling voice, and he hummed under his breath, delighted that she knew what he was referring to.
"− exactly − you look magnificent −" He murmured and covered her thighs back with the material of her robe, rising slowly, looking with satisfaction at his masterpiece.
"Come in, Marco. She is ready."
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses
#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#aemond x oc#hotd aemond#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell fanfic#modern aemond angst#dark modern aemond#modern aemond smut#modern aemond#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#hotd smut#ewan mitchell smut#aemond angst#aemond targaryen angst#hotd angst#ewan mitchell angst#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond#aemond one eye#aemond x original female character#aemond x original character#aemond x female#aemond fanfic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fanfic#hotd fic
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I love your writing! Can I pls request “first I love you” with Diluc, Ayato, Al Haitham, zhongli, and Childe, pls? Ty
I’ve actually already done Alhaitham for this, but everyone else is included!
Saying “I Love You” For The First Time (Diluc, Ayato, Zhongli, Childe)
Diluc
What do you mean Diluc doesn’t say “I love you. Most ardently. Please do me the honor of accepting my hand.”???
Saying he loves you is a difficult task, not because he doesn’t feel that way about you, but he’s terrified of what that would mean
As illogical as it is, he’s scared that if he admits he loves you, it means that he stands to lose you, and he doesn’t think he’s a strong enough man to bear any more grief than he already does
Yet it’s an undeniable fact that he loves you, and he agonizes over the feeling for weeks. It’s so obvious that he’s fretting over something; you and the entire Dawn Winery staff know it by his ceaseless pacing he does whenever he has a spare moment, but when asked about it he writes it off as merely being lost in thought about how to manage the winery better
Once he gathers the courage to admit to himself that he loves you, Diluc still hesitates on telling you his feelings. He doesn’t want you to feel awkward or pressured into loving him, so he resolves to wait until you confess first
That’s what he settles on, yet he finds himself going out of his way to show you he loves you rather than telling you. He gives you more tender kisses, lingering glances, and he even blushes under your gentle caresses of his face or hair. There’s nothing quite like a little love to make a man crumble
His heart always feels like it’s burning when he’s around you, threatening to consume his rationality and his resolve to let you take this relationship at your own pace
Eventually, Diluc finds himself unable to hold it in anymore. You’ll just be sitting with him in his manor, enjoying the peace and quiet when he would suddenly stand up from his desk and walk over to take your hands in his, the intensity of his gaze throwing you off guard a little
“There is no greater honor than to give my heart to you, (Y/N). I love you, and I hope that you feel as strongly for me as I do you.”
He’ll give your hands a soft kiss, the passion burning in his fiery red eyes as he awaits your response. Diluc is graceful should you say that you don’t feel that strongly yet or aren’t ready to give an answer, but that would cut him deeper than he would ever confide in anyone. If you return the sentiment, a soft smile slowly begins to spread on his face, and he’ll ask to kiss you
After the initial confession, Diluc still isn’t one to say he loves you much; despite his almost stoic exterior, verbalizing the overwhelming yearning he feels for you makes him flustered, so he does it seldomly. He prefers to leave that kind of language for intimate moments rather than just saying it as if he was commenting on the weather
Ayato
Calm, cool, and collected at all times, once Ayato has realized that he’s in love with you he is going to be confident in confessing to you, but he is a bit hesitant at first. As the head of the Kamisato Clan, he does worry about the target that might put on your back
It’s not that he’s not confident in his ability to keep you safe, but he wonders if he’s being a bit selfish in putting you in that kind of danger in the first place
Before he settles on confessing, he might ask you about your opinions on love in a roundabout way; guided questions on long term relationships, love, your opinions on his work, and your overall happiness with him now are the tools he uses to find out where he might stand in your heart.
If there is any hint of trepidation, Ayato will not confess to you until a later time. He’s willing to wait until he is old and grey if that is what it takes to ensure that his confession is something you want too. Even if he never finds the right time to confess, he won’t have any regrets
The last hurdle for him to jump through will be to talk to Ayaka. His sister is already aware of his relationship with you, but he thinks it’s important for her to know the depths of his feelings, almost like he’s asking for her blessing. His sister is extremely important to him, so he wants to make sure that she doesn’t have any reservations with how his relationship is progressing, even though he knows Ayaka will be happy for him
Once everything falls into place, Ayato is ready to tell you that he loves you. He wants to make the occasion romantic but very private, so he asks if you’d be willing to accompany him on a walk.
After finding a suitable location away from any prying eyes, he will smile at you and tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear or will gently caress your cheek as he tells you he loves you
It’s simple, yet sweet. After dealing with the politics of the Yashiro Commission and subsequently his own cryptic conversations, he feels that it’s very important for him to speak plainly at this moment. He doesn’t want to play mind games, not with his affections for you
When you return his words he is elated, though outwardly he only has a soft smile on his face as he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in Teyvat
From then on, he’s pretty liberal with his affections; he’s not going to hang all over you and coo at you, but he will tell you every morning that he loves you, and when he returns in the evening after a long day he tells you he loves you then too. No matter how he feels or how tired he is, he doesn’t want you to go a single day without you knowing that you’re loved
Ayato knows better than most that those you love aren’t guaranteed to stay with you forever, so he makes a point to ensure that he never misses an opportunity to give you the affection you deserve
Zhongli
Falling in love is a slow and steady process for him, and before he knows it suddenly he feels like he’s almost suffocating in his feelings for you
Despite this overwhelming emotion, Zhongli remains the sophisticated man he always is, leaving you none the wiser of the hammering of his heart each time he looks at you
With you being a mortal, he has his reservations about confessing his love to you; he felt like it was selfish to subtly tie you down to him, knowing that you would age gracefully over time, and he would remain stagnant. Your mortality was in part what drew him to you, and it hurt to know that the very thing that he adored about you would one day tear you two apart
He spends a lot of his free time reflecting over this fact, and your relationship as a whole. Humans were always changing, like the babbling brook that turns into a river at the first flood. Would you be able to handle the unyielding emotions of a former Archon?
Ultimately Zhongli decides to take a leap of faith, believing in the love that you have shown him thus far and calls you to have a cup of tea with him. Over your afternoon tea, he begins to let the emotions in his heart out
“I want you to know that though the world around us may change and potentially become something unrecognizable, my feelings for you will always remain. They are embedded into the very core of my being. I love you, (Y/N). I can assure you that will never change in all of the millennia to come.”
His confession is unintentionally intense, but it rings true to the depth of his feelings. Zhongli’s love for you reverberates throughout his entire being, and he longs for you to feel the same
When you say that you love him too, he will chuckle slightly before smiling at you, thanking you for your honest response
There is an unspoken tension between you two about the weight of what a mortal loving an immortal would inevitably mean, but Zhongli opts to put those feelings aside for now. He doesn’t want to ruin this jovial moment with the somber talk of the inescapable end of your life
He plans to have that talk with you sooner rather than later, but for now he focuses on making you feel loved rather than just hearing it. He becomes a lot more tender with you, a feat that you didn’t even know was possible when he already cherished you before his confession
It’s almost like he acts like you two are married already, which you most certainly have no complaints about. Hu Tao even jokingly refers to you as “the missus” whenever she talks about you
Childe
This man is ANNOYING when he’s in love. You’ll almost know before he even says the words by how clingy and possessive he gets. He barely lets you out of his sight when he’s not wrapped up in a mission for the Fatui
Not only is he clingy, but he loves to push your buttons now more than ever. Seeing your cute face all scrunched up with frustration or irritation is almost as rewarding as when he gets to kiss you, or the feeling he gets during the heat of battle. Almost.
Despite relishing in your reactions, he takes great care to make sure that you don’t hate him. How is he supposed to tell you he loves you if you can’t stand to look at him?
While waiting for the perfect opportunity to say those three magical words, Childe finds himself daydreaming about you. His thoughts are usually quite sweet considering his usual cutthroat demeanor; he even goes as far as to imagine marrying you, and what your future children will look like. He’s a family man at heart, and is completely head over heels in love with you
If the opportunity to tell you he loves you doesn’t come up naturally, he will make it come up. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, when he’s about to burst at the seams he’s coming to collect you for his romantic confession. You’re at work? He’ll tell your boss an emergency came up before scooping you into his arms and taking off. No matter how much you protest, he will not put you down until he’s brought you to a nice, quiet place
Now that he’s actually about to tell you how he feels, Childe almost gets a bit shy about it as he quietly puts you down, scratching the back of his head as he thinks of how to word this feeling inside him. You can’t help but smirk a little at the rare sight of the speechless, nervous Harbinger in front of you
He eventually finds his bravado again and finally speaks with a soft expression, “Hey (Y/N), listen, I like spending my time with you. You’re smart, funny, resilient, and you’re even cute too, which is a plus.” Childe would dodge a swat from you before continuing, “What I’m trying to say is, I love you. I’d rather die than to love anyone else, you’re my one and only.”
When you say you love him too, he’s grinning ear to ear as he hoists you up again, ignoring your protests as he spins you around with a rare lighthearted laugh. He won’t be able to resist pulling you in for a kiss either, he’s just so ecstatic that you feel the same way he does
If you thought he was annoying before he confessed, he is a living terror after. Even worse, he uses your love as a shield from your anger if you ever complain about his antics. What do you mean he can’t grab your sides to make you jump? Didn’t you say you loved him?
Despite him constantly teasing you, there’s a warm look in his usually cold eyes that you aren’t used to. It’s a bit flattering to you to know that you were able to turn such a hardened, battle hungry man into the doting goofball he was now, even though he got on your nerves sometimes
Childe is never going to let you forget that he loves you, and constantly seeks to bait you into telling him you love him just as much. The man is pretty much on cloud nine around you. With his confession of the depth of his feelings out of the way, his new goal is to find a way to start a family with you, but he knows to bide his time on that topic…for now
#genshin impact#genshin#genshin imagines#genshin headcanons#genshin x reader#reader insert#genshin imagine#genshin impact headcanons#Diluc#diluc x reader#Zhongli#zhongli x reader#Childe#childe x reader#tartaglia#tartaglia x reader#Ayato#ayato x reader#kamisato ayato#scheduled post
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Exclusive Interview: Bill Skarsgård On Making Orlok His Own In NOSFERATU
Bill Skarsgård has been in the Nosferatu loop since writer/director Robert Eggers first began conceiving it almost 10 years ago. This was before Skarsgård had his horror-star-making turn as Pennywise in It, so initially, he auditioned for the part of Friedrich Harding, friend of central couple Thomas and Ellen Hutter. Then he read for and landed the part of Thomas before the project fell apart. Nosferatu, in fact, went through a few stops and starts before finally coming to fruition, with Skarsgård ultimately taking on the titular role of the hundreds-of-years-old vampire Count Orlok.
Eggers’ reimagining of the 1922 silent landmark gives Orlok a new look but the same goal: to possess Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) and drain the life from those around her. The film, which also stars Nicholas Hoult as Thomas, Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Harding, and Willem Dafoe as occult expert Professor Albin Eberhart Von Franz, presents Orlok as a resuscitated, centuries-old nobleman driven by obsession as much as bloodlust. (You can read more of this interview in FANGORIA #26, on sale very soon.)
read at the link or under the cut
Do you happen to know what Eggers’ change in thinking was, from seeing you in one of the heroic roles to playing the villain?
I don’t know if there are any heroic roles in the movie [laughs], apart from Ellen, in a way. I don’t know what changed in him, but that’s just how it ended up. At one point I was devastated because when it did finally look like Nosferatu was coming around for the third time, he was looking into other actors for Thomas, and then I heard that Nick got the part, and I was like, OK, what about the Harding role?
I also once read for that one. And then Aaron got it, and I was like, OK, I have to divorce myself from the idea of being part of this movie now, even though I felt so, I don’t know, destined to be a part of it. So it was a surprise and shock to me when he approached me with Orlok. In a lot of ways, it was a much more daunting task to undertake as an actor. It was as terrifying as it was exciting.
This is obviously a very different Orlok than we saw in the previous versions of Nosferatu. How did you view the character when you first took the role, and how did you develop him with Eggers?
Robert had obviously done a lot of thinking about what his Orlok would be like. And when he reached out to me about the possibility of playing him, I think he was a lot more confident that I could do it than I was [laughs]. But I was so thrilled for the opportunity, and I told him, “OK, now we’ll have to convince everyone”; we had to submit to the studio and whatnot.
We had this kind of 10-day workshop where he shared with me a lot of the material he had used for inspiration—different performances in different movies, what Orlok would have been like when he was alive, all that kind of stuff. And also how he saw Orlok’s look, which was quite specific. Then I started working on it.
I began with voice memos, and then I would send little clips of myself doing certain things. This was all before the actual screen test; it was all during COVID. Those 10 days were a very deep dive into the process of developing this guy, and proof for myself that I could do it. It was a great sort of dating phase with Robert as well, to see how we would collaborate. Auditions are usually horrible, but with this particular way of doing it, it was quite creative.
Then the movie fell apart again, so when we actually got to shoot it, I believe it had been two and a half years since I did the tape. So I almost had to restudy what I did for the tape in order to start re-prepping for the movie because, at that point, I was at the same place of, how the hell did I do this, or can I do it? I had to go through all that again, you know?
What were some of Eggers’ specific inspirations for Orlok that he shared with you, and were there any you came up with yourself?
There were a lot of different things. There was a Bulgarian movie called Time of Violence—a great movie, over four hours long, set in Bulgaria in the 17th century. And there’s this guy, the antagonist of the movie, taking over a village and forcibly converting Christians, and it’s incredibly violent and horrible. That performance was something Robert talked a lot about in terms of who Orlok could have been when he was alive. We talked about that one a lot, and various different things—little snippets from here and there.
But that was during the very early stages. Once you start delving deeper into a character, hopefully, you start getting inspiration from whatever it is you’re actually working on, and that creates seeds that come out of it. Robert also wrote a backstory for Orlok, just a few pages, that he shared with me, which was also very helpful.
You said before that there aren’t many heroes in Nosferatu except for Ellen. Would you consider Orlok a villain, or do you see him more as a tragic character?
He’s the romantic lead, isn’t he [laughs]? Yeah, it’s tricky. Is he a villain? Yeah, of course; I mean, he’s Nosferatu, he’s Dracula, he’s one of the most, if not the most iconic horror villain there is. But I think the script has nuances that make it more complex, more layered, in the sense that the movie is sort of a love triangle with Ellen in the middle. She’s torn between a good, stable, benevolent, loving husband and something that is very powerful, very destructive, but also very alluring to her, and you watch her being torn between these two forces.
How was it working with the heavy prosthetics that transformed you into Orlok?
David White did the prosthetics and the design, and he’s incredibly talented. And Stuart Richards and his wife were the ones who applied it on me every day. You tend to become very close to those people, because they’re the ones you spend the most time with when you’re playing a character like this. Just immensely talented, and very, very sweet.
And then there’s the process of getting it on for the first time and you’re like, OK, what works and what doesn’t work? How do my face and my expressions translate onto this new face that they’ve glued on top of mine? It becomes a whole process where you need to familiarize yourself with how your performance is being translated through the prosthetics. But I never felt like Orlok without the makeup, so the prosthetics and the costume were all pieces that I needed to perform him.
Since you were attached to the role for a few years, did the concept of Orlok change at all from the beginning to what we see in the final film?
Actually, not too much. Robert shared with me, when I was being considered for the role, a digital drawing he had made of Orlok, and that was pretty close to what he ended up looking like in the actual movie. Obviously, there were little changes here and there, but the essence of it, the mustache and so forth, stayed pretty close.
A lot of the character’s look is, what did a Romanian or Hungarian nobleman look like in the 16th century? As you probably know, Robert does extensive research and tries to be as historically accurate as possible in anything he does. So, the look is a representation of that. It’s a historically accurate Romanian nobleman [laughs]. And the same with the costumes. It was pretty specific, and what Orlok looks like in the movie is pretty close to what Robert initially envisioned.
Can you talk about working with Lily-Rose Depp?
It was an absolute pleasure working with Lily. I haven’t seen many people with such raw talent as she possesses, and how much she gives to the movie. It’s not an easy role at all; it was so emotionally demanding, and the way she could just turn it on every single time, take after take, was awe-inspiring.
The first few scenes I did with her, I wasn’t even acting; I was just a shadow hand behind the camera. And I could just see how gifted she was, and the nuances she brought. Then once we started doing scenes together, I couldn’t appreciate it as much because I was also performing, and we were dancing together. But she’s incredible, and an undeniable force in the movie. •
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Hey me again How about a cybertronian buddy that has a underwater alt mode you know kind of like a megalodon or something similar to that but you can choose which animal kind of similar to a merformer and maybe with transformers animated it can be the Autobots and the decepticons whatever you choose =]
Meg Buddy. Meg Buddy. Meg Buddy. Meg Bud--
Since you did not specify which characters you wanted, I chose them at random. If this is not what you wanted, please let me know.
Hope you enjoy!
Bot Buddy with Megalodon altmode with Sari, Bumblebee, Lugnut, and Starscream
SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader
TFA
Buddy was originally a scrap replica of a Megalodon that never got fully programmed by Professor Sumdac.
He never got a chance to fully program it after seeing how a lot of kids and adults reacted poorly to it. So, he scrapped the idea and sent it to one of his old warehouses near the docks to melt it down later.
The box where the scrap shark was had accidentally been knocked into the bay by a careless guy on forklift duty. Deciding that the shark would be more trouble than it was worth, the guy left the shark to sink to the bottom of the dock.
A little while later a shard from the Allspark would just so happen to land in the resting place of the scrap project.
Buddy opened their optics looking around wondering what in the world just happened.
They would soon realize how to transform and move around in their altmode quickly.
Buddy had a particular interest in the humans that would sometimes swim around the waters near their home and ride their boats. Now, they knew that they weren’t exactly the most approachable thing under the water, so they kept their distance from the humans.
…But if they did need help… Buddy would try their best to help without having them screaming their heads off.
Team that would try and befriend the Meg
These bots, after getting over the initial shock of seeing a giant mechanical shark, would realize that this is a friendly mechanical shark that would lend a fin to someone in need. They would try to start up a chat with the shark despite whatever their intentions are. They all honestly want to get to know Buddy better.
Sari
Lugnut
Bumblebee
Team that is actively shooting the everything they have at the Meg
These bots are truly terrified of the gigantic size Buddy possesses. The shark practically screams ‘Blast it! Blast it! Blast it!’. None of these bots have any luck hurting Buddy in the slightest. Now the difference between getting slapped into oblivion by a fin will depend on their reaction after figuring out Buddy is not getting hurt by their attacks.
Starscream
Bumblebee
Team that wants to bring the Meg on land despite all warnings
Congratulations to these bots! They have successfully made friends with Buddy and want to show Buddy the world beyond the dock. The bots here will start hilarious hijinks to get Buddy out of the water safely and taking the giant talking mechanical shark around Detroit, or bringing them to meet their respected teams.
Lugnut
Bumblebee
Sari
#transformers#transformers x reader#maccadam#tfa sari#tfa bumblebee#tfa lugnut#tfa starscream#tfa x platonic reader#tfa x reader
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if you have any crumbs to share... about aac raz/lili/bobby dynamic pleeeez ramble to me i want info i'm so into this concept T_T
oh my guy I have so many crumbs for you. These guys have resided in the back of my brain forever but I was usually too embarrassed to say anything about it outside of a couple joke posts. But this is my house so I’m choosing to thrive and frolic.
Also a doodle of the aforementioned three before I enter my tangent :) rambling under the cut
the initial dynamic of these three goes something like
-Lili & Bobby - can’t stand his fake ass. She remembers having to deal with him at whispering rock and clearly is not very good at letting go of grudges from when she was ten. This is, in fact, Bobby’s worst nightmare. He was terrified of working for the psychonauts partially because he didn’t want to run into people he used to know. Surprise! They don’t like each other.
-Raz & Bobby. Raz has the complete opposite problem he literally barely remembers this guy. They interacted for maybe a collective hour one day when he was 10 years old, he only recalls him because Lili clocks him and reminds Raz. Bobby mostly hadn’t thought about him since camp, but did build a little (lot) bit of a resentment after seeing that weird little freak from camp pop up on different True Psychic Tales covers. That on top of Bobby now having to intern under this guy makes their relationship kind of spotty to start, for sure.
-Raz & Lili. Theyre having fun :) After having fun “dating” as real young kids they fall out of touch during their teen years when Raz goes to travel with then circus again to try and reconnect with his family (whole other can of worms for him.) They meet back up during the late teen years and sort of pick up right where they left off, dating off and on for a bit and “officially” dating long term for a little over a year now.
Both their relationships with Bobby evolve over time, naturally. Bobby and Raz have a whooole fucking thing that isn’t fully conceptualized and Is way too long a concept for me to share but their intern/mentor relationship does help them learn to get along with each other. And of course them getting along means Lili having to deal with being around Bobby more often and so it begins.
The whole ~ feelings ~ aspect mostly starts with her and Bobby I think, funnily enough. They hate each other, they want each other dead so bad, but eventually they have to learn to get along for Raz’s sake if nothing else. So they learn! Try to, at least. They’re both really bad at it.
but the “i hate you i want you dead” manages to evolve into that more friendly insulting banter some people have. “I hate you i want you dead” (complimentary.) It gives Raz a headache because it takes him a while to process that they’re usually joking when they’re arguing with each other now.
Lili doesn’t like when she starts to have Feelings about that shitty little freak (tm.) I think she’s somewhere on the Aro spectrum and when Raz wasn’t around she really never. Felt any sort of desire for romance with anyone else. Girl just kind of forgot about it for a bit until he showed up again. Which caused a lot of emotions. And then got used to that until Bobby is introduced into the equation and slowly she starts to feel things toward him that aren’t Rage and Disgust. Which causes a lot of emotions.
Raz I think is entirely oblivious of having any feelings toward him for the longest time. While Lili is a slow “oh god oh fuck” buildup, he’s just really happy he and Bobby are getting along at all that any sort of progress in affection toward him just feels like another big win for friendship. I think it hits him all at once late at night on a random Tuesday and he just sits up in bed and stares at a wall about it.
The whole Raz and Lili communicating abt the concept of polyamory would make this insane post already twice as long and it’s not a part of it all I’ve thought about anyways so we’re going to shelve it for now. But once they do reach the conclusion that they saw this guy from across the bar and they liked his vibe, they both proceed to trip over their own feet for the next however many weeks.
You see, “woman who does not process her emotions” and “guy who needs a twelve step plan for everything” is a prime combination for two people who are pulling some mad scientist shit to try and talk to this guy rather than just inviting him out to eat sometimes. And Bobby is convinced for a little bit that they’re planning to dissect his brain or something because they keep doing that ^
On Bobby’s side of this whole equation the evolution is just his own little torment nexus for a few months.
he initially discovers he’s got a thing for Lili after they start getting along more and it sucks for him. He enjoys their flirty little threats of violence but he’s also close with Raz at this point so I think it just kind of makes him feel . Gross . Like man am I flirting with my friend’s girlfriend I think I am. Oh he’s probably going to hate me. Help.
and that concern for Raz is also a guy in the back of his brain knocking on a door very loudly trying to tell him he’s bisexual but he’s not quite arrived at that conclusion. Give him a few more missions where Raz grabs him while he’s falling to his death and he’ll get there probably.
there’s so many words. These are so many words. I’ll be honest the wacky schenanigans of the “before relationship” era are so funny to me that I’ve not really had any conceptual ideas for them getting into + Being In a Relationship yet. But I hope that you like this at least! This insanely long ass post goes out to you and the one other guy who’s a fan of these three (hi)
#Psychonauts#agent aquato and co#Raz [AAC | He/Him]#Lili [AAC | She/Her]#Bobby [AAC | He/Him]#Clem [AAC | She/Her]#Dogen [AAC | He/They]#their little cameos….#Uhhh hi. Hi. Goes in my hole.
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Something that frustrates me is that Theo can full transform into a wolf and it’s never talked about. Like how is it a big enlightenment thing for the Hales and then the evil 17 year old test tube were-creature can just do it casually and he doesn’t even USE IT FOR ANYTHING
lol fucking theo.
okay.
here we go.
i can understand how this would be frustrating and yeah it kind of is but the thing about theo is that narratively he's a derek mirror.
especially for scott and stiles.
read more because i had thoughts on this subject.
for the two of them, derek has always been there. it started with the three of them and for the type of shit they dealt with on a regular basis derek being there was comforting. even when they were actively being deeply annoyed by him because derek was safe to them in so many ways that i think that like a lot of teenagers they took for granted that he'd always be around because it's derek.
than he wasn't.
and argent left too.
it's the moment where the paradigm shifts and says "you're on your own kids".
it really pulled a rug out from under the two of them.
derek's departure at the end of season 4 in smoke and mirrors was so significant but also understated. i think people really do dismiss the amount of growth that occurred in the derek and scott relationship. fandom gets so hung up on their antagonism in seasons 1 and 2 they don't look much deeper for why they were like that and sort of ignore that season 3 spends a lot of time showing them moving away from that.
stiles and derek are more difficult to parse for some. their relationship whether you ship it or not is mostly in subtext. stiles is fucking attached by season 4.
stiles fears change. it's a huge part of his season 5 and 6a arcs. it terrifies him to lose people he cares about or have his relationship with them change.
i think it's important to remember that in smoke and mirrors, derek is all but dying in front of stiles. he's bleeding out. it doesn't look good. no one knows the dumbass is gonna evolve or whatever werewolf magic he pulled out his ass. he is dying and his last words to stiles are to go save scott.
this is after a season of where derek's been messed with magically by kate, where he's been losing his werewolf powers and lydia predicted his death.
when derek's lying there bleeding out stiles hesitates. twice.
he gets more focus than peter or braeden does in this moment. the focus is derek and stiles. we get like six close up shots of stiles being deeply affected by this and by affected i mean fucked up.
sure, derek doesn't end up actually dying but he leaves with braeden. we have no idea if they've really spoken all that much in the in-between.
stiles's face as they watch derek and argent leave does not give the vibe that he has had closure.
derek being unable to give stiles a proper goodbye is a whole other post.
it's really significant that derek leaving unmoors stiles emotionally even months later and that scott recognizes it. we are shown stiles getting sentimental and gooey over the initials d.h for a reason in creatures of the night. he misses derek.
why all this background when this post is about theo? it's because derek's absence in season 5 is glaring and tangible. it's an unsaid thing that theo is able to take advantage of.
it's a compare and contrast but sort of in opposite directions for stiles and scott.
both derek and theo grew up in beacon hills but left for a period of time before returning.
derek is immediately recognized by stiles and theo is recognized by scott.
both are accused of killing their sister. derek didn't kill laura but theo did kill tara.
derek is a born werewolf who earns his full shift which is an inherited rare gift whereas theo is a chimera artificially created by the dread doctors.
derek rejects the influence of peter and duecalion whereas theo is a tool of the dread doctors.
derek's desperation in building a pack and losing them versus theo's desperation to build a pack and killing them himself using deucalion's teachings about taking power.
derek wanting to kill lydia because he thought she was the kanima versus theo wanting lydia because he wanted her knowledge and she was the key to the hellhound
scott wanting to trust theo is an obvious course correction of how he mistrusted derek in the beginning and how he misses the connection he had with derek.
scott's just desperate for something to work out.
stiles's mistrust of theo is in contrast of how he trusted derek despite scott's insistence that derek wasn't trust worthy.
it also highlights that stiles's is on edge. he cannot afford to trust someone. not again. he cannot let another person close.
which brings us to parasomnia and the benefit of a doubt conversation.
there's a lot happening with stiles and scott during season 5. there's nogitsune fall out, them growing up and the pain that comes with it but also how stiles's behavior is increasingly paranoid and irritable. it's why theo is able to take such advantage.
but i think on some level scott misunderstands that stiles never really distrusted derek the same way he did.
stiles: "yes. okay? we followed him out here. what do you want me to say? that i'm a stalker? huh? that i'm crazy? totally paranoid? none of this is new information!" scott: "now you're gonna try to at least give him the benefit of the doubt?" stiles: "i give people benefit of the doubt! i've given a lot of benefit to a lot of people." scott: "like derek? ...kira? ...liam?"
i can not post scott's face when he's about to bring up derek to stiles.
scott may not know all the details, he may not understand them but what he does understand is derek leaving has stiles fucked up and bringing him up is going to poke at sore spot. bringing up derek was his entire point. adding kira and liam weren't the important part of this segment of conversation. i don't even think stiles ever mistrusted kira prior to when she begins to lose control of her fox.
scott is trying to appeal to stiles's derek feels and stiles just ends up super mad about it.
so to me in the end, a lot of scott and stiles's whole theo issue was really about derek.
(here's how i can make everything about derek hale lol).
theo being able to shift really was only to compare him to derek lol and who knows if he can even still accomplish this after he was returned from hell. he kind of went back to factory settings. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
tl;dr season 5 theo is derek-lite.
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could you tell us about jim? its interesting to see you post about her / tag sh2r posts as jim and i’s love to know more
HI ANON i finally have time to sit down and talk about her proper so...
jim unitedair (or remake james sunderland) is pretty much just that: my interpretation of her. i am of the belief that she is still 29 years old in the remake, but she's around 9 years younger than the original james, as her story takes place in 1996 in my head (sh2 takes place during 1987 to me).
as evident by my consistent she/her-ing of her, she's a woman to me. a deeply closeted trans woman doing her damndest to manmode as she thinks if she does it long enough and hard enough, it will not only be best for her and eventually make her happy, but it will keep her safe. she is not happy with this. granted, there are other things in her life that make her unhappy as well, but like. being closeted is kind of a miserable fucking experience! having to lie to yourself and to others about what you feel intrinsically in yourself to be you is wildly soul-crushing!!!!!
to me, jim very much puts a damper on her personality—making herself as inconsequential as possible so as not to draw undue attention to herself. the core tenants of a james sunderland character are there, i.e. the dichotomy of callousness and compassion, but jim comes off as overtly more compassionate than james does. at least, in a way that isn't as clumsy as james. she's a lot more willing to smile, compared to the one time in the entirety of sh2 where james smiled—she comes off to me as not necessarily someone that's happy, but someone that's far more lighthearted and willing to joke around. the first conversation that she has with laura in the lakeview hotel says as much, honestly. she playfully chides laura for her previous behavior, but doesn't hold it against the kid, smiling all the while. she just seems like someone who has a tangible sense of humor, and overall, comes off as a very different character.
she draws a lot from Stock Male Archetypes to inform her behavior in my mind—with my transfem reading of jim, a lot of her actions come off as rather stifled and inhibited. on a base level, i wish she was more visibly desperate and not so fucking #Normal, but seeing it as her manmoding to hell and back makes it cohere a lot better. jim's a lot more present. bewildered as all fucking hell, but not... in a dissociative manner like with james. in that sense, she's kinda... anxiety tunnel-visioning to me. hyperfocused on the goal of finding mary that all else tends to fall by the wayside. she treats maria very standoffishly, both in the sense that she deeply fears her and what she represents, and also that jim perceives her to be a roadblock. she doesn't allow herself to fully grieve maria's deaths when they do happen, bcs in my mind, she's terrified of maria taking up space as "mary" in her head. in terms of eddie and angela, i think jim is deeply wary of eddie bcs she often finds herself uncomfortable around men due to past traumas, and develops a strong, albeit one-sided kinship with angela, who reviles men for much the same reasons that jim does, though to a lesser extreme.
i understand that the "jim was sa'd in a mental hospital" is a controversial theory, and the original positer of that theory has gone on to post the theory that "it was all a dream actually and jim is still in the mental hospital lol", of which i find... so exceedingly ridiculous that i can't even dignify it with a disparaging comment that would quantify my exasperation surrounding such, but i do, actually, like former theory. i don't think jim was previously sa'd, nor do i think she has schizophrenia. i also don't think she killed the director (i did initially, but the more i thought about it the more i disliked the idea in the sense that it felt like retroactively vilifying her to a ludicrous degree w/ her subsequent murder of mary) but i do certainly think she wanted to get her revenge. she was hospitalized around the same age my james was, 16-17 years old, so she was young when this happened to her. part of the reason why i like this theory so much is that it further ties her to angela, and expands upon why the abstract daddy boss fight is so much more immersive than in the original. (granted, i think james also experienced sa while institutionalized, but that's another conversation for a different post.) it also does good in explaining jim's attempts to be delicate and warm with angela, seeing in her the same trauma she once endured around her age.
in turn, with eddie, she doesn't exactly know how to handle his particular situation, wary of his coming with her when he asks bcs, again, she's not comfortable around men; and also wary of his escalating desire for violence. she does her best to try and soothe him, to try and talk him down, and tries to be a somewhat jovial and non-threatening presence, but she didn't succeed, unfortunately. eddie is in full trauma-brain mode, and every genuine attempt that jim makes to connect with him comes off as condescending and disparaging. jim's "well, at least you got your appetite back" comment and her whole back and forth with eddie in the prison cafeteria only further reinforces in eddie's mind that jim's just another skinny motherfucker laughing at him, making fun of him. jim punching eddie in the meat locker feels like the point in their relationship where that was the point of no return—no way that the two could fully understand each other; at least in this life.
it's kind of incredible to me how differently she comes off with angela than eddie, bcs i feel a much more genuine warmth there, like she wants so badly to connect with angela, as two women who have gone through some shit but came out the other end alive. but in her endeavors to try and reach her, angela pulls away bcs, unfortunately, she sees jim as yet another man trying to violate her like the rest of them have. i do wish that jim was more visibly shaken up after the abstract daddy boss fight, but her quiet "i don't know who you think i am, but i just want my mary back" line makes me close my eyes so fucking tight with the way i see her and her gender woes. fml man. estrogen could've saved her.
god, and also like. in terms of mary and maria, that in it of itself is a whole can of worms. maria in the sh2r is an amalgam of the couple, in terms of the woman that is both an idealized version of mary and jim. her sweetness, her playful nature, her tantalizing flirtation, all a testament to the sentiment of "i want to be with you and be you." it's a lot. now, in regards to mary, i think that jim latched onto her so much bcs she helped her get back on her feet at a very low point in her life. tfw you are an alcoholic janitor making minimum wage that is deeply dysphoric and suicidal and continually wrestling with your past traumas and then a beautiful brunette with the biggest brown eyes you've ever seen says hello to you and the two of you get to talking. and then she starts bringing you meals. and then she helps you clean your apartment. and then she takes you shopping so you can get new clothes, you go on dates, you fall head over heels in love with her, and now the two of you are married.
jim, for a bit, was willing to stay closeted and be the best "husband" she could be for mary, bcs she loved her very, very dearly and wanted to give back all that she gave to her. it started to eat away at her, though, and mary knew that something was wrong. mary tried and tried and tried to get jim to tell her what was going on with jim, but jim was always paralyzed with the fear that she would be maligned by the woman she loved most for telling her that she felt like a girl on the inside; that whenever she saw other beautiful girls on the street, she'd feel a dull pain inside her chest, that she hated looking at her reflection for longer than she had to, that she wished, more than anything, to have been born a woman like mary was. so, long story short, jim did not tell mary that she was trans, and in my mind, mary would have been accepting of that. confused but she's got the spirit. she loved jim very much, too!
at some point, mary didn't know what to do, so she decided that a vacation was in order—to take their minds off of what was bothering them and to just love each other in a beautiful place. they go to silent hill, and when they come back, mary is sick, and it's terminal. and we all know what happens afterwards!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #DoomedYuri
in terms of like... the endings where jim does get to transition, i think she does that shit in the leave ending (naturally), the rebirth ending, and the bliss ending. in water, stillness, and maria are all endings where she doesn't do such bcs. well in the first ending of the bunch, she quite literally kills herself. stillness has her presumably wither away in silent hill to continue the cycle anew, and maria is not only a rejection of herself, but of her deed, and delving head first into selfish desires. yippie!!! it's funny though, bcs leave jim, rebirth jim, and bliss jim all have different things going on in terms of aesthetic and in terms of like... whether or not they percieve themselves to be human.
leave jim to me is very like... pretty office worker in terms of look. i think she grows out her hair again to be in a little bob (it was a fuckass bob when she first met mary 😭) and still wears a lot of button-ups, but adds blouses to the mix, as well as skirts and tights and other accessories, but overall pretty minimal. heels kinda scare jim, honestly, so she sticks to boots/shoes that have a little bit of heel, but nothing more than that. i like to think that she seeks out and connects with other trans women and forges lifelong bonds with them, as she still doesn't take laura in, knowing that she's the furthest thing from being a fit mother for her. i don't want her to be alone!!!!
rebirth jim is the cuntess of the church of the rebirth. i've drawn her before and she means the world to me.
i used outfit concept art for claudia wolf to inform my rebirth jim design bcs i thought they were too cool to go unused + i wanted to keep the fit within the parameters of the art direction team silent was going for.
bliss jim is. well, bliss jim is the manic pixie dream girl to end all manic pixie dream girls. she drank liquefied white claudia and became a universe-hopping entity akin to a deity of sorts and continually travels from universe to universe, so long as its localized within the bounds of silent hill. she can hop into any universe, be it fictional or not; she can travel to book universes, game universes, universes captured within a photograph or a video tape (wink wink) and she can travel to universes where she establishes the parameters, which is how she was able to physically transition LOL. i like to think bliss jim left those strange photos for what is effectively herself to collect, having observed the loop her other selves find themselves in for over two decades. she makes the message esoteric bcs she thinks that telling them outright wouldn't be great. and they always seem to have a habit of remembering the previous loops when they realize the truth of their situation.
she looks like this btw. i am of the very firm belief that jim can fucking rock a bell bottom and nobody can tell me otherwise. her bell bottoms also have forget-me-nots embroidered on the cuffs as a nod to the blanket that covered mary in the backseat of her car having the same flower on it. i think she just enjoys that flower a lot.
and that's... about all i can think of to say at the moment??? i know there's more rattling around in my brain but it's late and i've already written a lot so i hope this satisfies!!! thank you for reading.
#answered asks#anonymous#jim unitedair#james sunderland#silent hill#silent hill 2 remake#sh2 remake#i spent too long on this NOT to tag it#also bonus: the name i think she chooses for herself would be jacqueline. she thinks it's pretty + jackie is a very cute nickname to her#so yeah :-] 👍#sa mention
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oh god, i want to feel again
xavier plympton x reader, 3.3k words summary: the reader is the one of the two survivors from their little friend group along with brooke. all alone with a set of friends who are only around her for "status," she finds herself back at camp redwood. a/n: a complete rewrite of this fic from 2021. the fandom may be dead but I adored this fic when I initially wrote it. it deserves 23-year-old aurora's edits. some elements are the same but... it's clear that I have either grown as a writer or something has happened to the original writer within me (perhaps too many bouts of bridgerton and romance-esque things but let's not get into that) tw: death, mentions of dead bodies, suicidal thoughts, implied depression and anxiety, mentions of god and jesus christ but like not positively used (ones in an instance of finding a dead body YAY).
For someone who claimed they were terrified of the very place your old friend group died, you sure as hell didn't seem like it. At least, not on the outside. Brooke would have been trembling on the spot, but not you. No, you felt almost... well, not terrified, but worried.
You should have never let them talk you into coming back to Camp Redwood. How utterly foolish. Things always went wrong in this godforsaken camp, and it was nothing new to you. You knew it. Just the essence of the forest around it sent shivers down your spine.
And yet, here you were. The three you stood near fawned over the scenery. It was beautiful, yes, and it was just as beautiful as it had been when you had last been there. It hadn't changed a bit. But there was something gnawing inside of you. This place made you more nervous than you would like to admit.
Just thinking about it—about everything that had happened. It made you want to cry.
But the trio you had become a fourth wheel for said that they would be quick. They just wanted to take a look around, maybe check out the cabins.
You knew better. Coming back to Camp Redwood would lead to disaster. Coming back to the damned place was a death wish—and your past self, the one from just a few years ago, even, would have hit you for being so stupid to come back.
There was something about the camp that drew you in. As if there was something within your soul that knew it needed to be there. How foolish.
It had only taken an hour for your "friends" to leave your side, but you weren't surprised. They had never been truly good friends. In fact, the closest one to you, Nellie, had said that the other two were only friends with you for publicity. Sheryl and Junie didn't really care about you other than for some popularity points in LA's scene.
Being the only other survivor besides Brooke, you were like a little legend in your town.
It hadn't been Brooke. But it was your word against everything.
God, you missed her. She had been a good friend for the short time you knew her. All of your friends had been, in one way or another.
Chet knew how to get you fired up when it mattered most. Ray was earnest and always lended a helping hand. Montana knew exactly how to dress for any kind of scenario, and all of the little beauty tips she had given you made you feel like she truly cared about you. And Xavier. Oh, God, did you miss Xavier.
There wasn't a day that went by that you didn't think of the blonde jazzercise instructor.
It hurt your heart to know that he was gone. Forever. There was no coming back from what took him so long ago. And for what? For your "friends" to get excited over? For the crime fanatics to fantasize over? It was despicable. Deplorable, even.
On your way up to the camp, despite the urge within you to make them drop you off and you'd just walk home, you heard Sheryl talk about the Night Stalker. How handsome and ridiculously attractive he was. How she would let him have her in whatever way possible.
It made you sick to even think about it. Perhaps you should have made them drop you off and pick you up later. It would have been so much easier that way.
Maybe then you wouldn't have felt so sick to your stomach.
But here you were. It was 1987—three years after the massacre of your friends, and three years after you barely made it out alive. Half-alive, anyway. You were barely living, just going through the motions of what it meant to eat, breathe, and sleep. Even then you hardly did well at it.
You found yourself sitting on the edge of that oh-so-familiar dock, staring out at the lake. The water was dark and murky—not how you remembered. It had been so beautiful before, but perhaps that was how the world worked. As the years grew long and the soil grew spoiled, things changed. It had been quite some time since you last looked out to the water.
What else happened here?
You took in a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut.
You just wanted to leave. That was the first thing that came to mind. The second was, What the actual fuck was that?
Something brushed against your foot.
Your heart leapt to your throat and you quickly scrambled to your feet, suppressing a scream. You looked down at the water and saw a bloated body. A human body.
"Oh, Jesus Christ," left your chapped lips. The body had obviously been in the water for some time.
You took a couple steps back, your hands gripping at the edge of your shirt as you tried to ground yourself.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you breathed out, burying your face in your hands for just a moment.
As you looked up, you saw it—a flash of two blonde heads in the corner of your eye, standing by one of the decaying cabins.
The girls weren't blonde. Nellie was a brunette, Sheryl had unnaturally red hair that she claimed was natural, and Junie's hair was black.
You blinked slowly and almost thought, for just a moment, that perhaps you had truly lost it. Perhaps you were truly crazy and the fumes of the decaying body were getting to you—but then, you saw it.
That outfit.
The blues and whites and that signature coat.
Were you dreaming?
You didn't know. Even so, you found your feet moving before you could even think to stop them. In a matter of seconds, you were running. Through the mud, through the roots that sprung up from the cold ground. You nearly tripped a time or two as the cold air burned your lungs. You ran through the tree limbs that continued to snag your shirt and skin. However, you didn't stop. You didn't care. If that was who you thought it was, it didn't matter if you hurt yourself or scratched up your outfit.
It was okay.
It would be worth it.
You reached the area you had thought you saw him—the girls' cabin. It had to have been. That's where you had hung out during the short time you were at the camp.
The sight of the log building made you sick to your stomach. This whole thing made you sick.
If only you had listened to your gut feeling and passed up on the invite, then you wouldn't be standing here, questioning your sanity.
This was stupid. This was freakish, and your therapist would give you an earful when you returned to your sessions. You knew it.
But then, you heard a voice.
"Y/n?"
You didn't move for a moment, just registering the voice. It wasn't just any voice—it was Xavier's voice.
He's dead. It's not him. You're going insane, you thought, but you spun around anyway. Your eyes were wide.
You saw him standing there, all alone. He gave you an incredulous look before he rushed forward, his arms wrapping tightly around you. One of his hands rested on the back of your head as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of you—one he hadn't had for some time.
"What—what is—" you breathed out, your arms quickly wrapping around his body. "What the hell? You're dead," you said, tears forming in your eyes almost immediately. You buried your face in his chest. He's dead. He has to be. But he feels so very real, and it confuses you to no avail. "Xavier, you're supposed to be dead. Why are you here?"
Xavier chuckled softly, his hand gently brushing some of your hair away from your face so he could get a good look at you.
"You're smart, Y/n," he softly said. "Tell me why I'm still here."
"Ghost?" was the only thing you said.
He smiled at you. "God, I never thought I'd see you again. Why are you here?"
"My... my friends—"
You were interrupted, a scream erupting through the trees. Birds flew into the blue sky, spooked by the shrill noise.
You slightly pulled back, hands gripping onto Xavier. You didn't want to let go of him.
"My friends brought me here," you said, looking over your shoulder.
Xavier rose an eyebrow.
"What's going on?" you asked, looking up at him once more. You paid no mind to the scream—a part of you didn't care what happened, as awful as that sounded. The other part of you ached to go and help them, but you couldn't. Xavier was standing in front of you.
He was here. You couldn't let that go.
"What do you mean?" he asked, a playful smile on his lips.
"How are you—how are you here? You're a ghost, sure, but..."
He continued to smile, watching you with an unreadable expression. "Yes."
"That's... that doesn't help me," you huffed, noticing a smear of blood on his cheek. You reached forward, your thumb rubbing it off. You frowned up at him. "How the hell are you still here?"
"I don't know," he finally admitted. "None of us know. We're all here. Well... save for you and Brooke."
You blinked, furrowing your eyebrows. "You... what? You're all still here?"
The question chokes you up, and your tears are instant. "Xavier, I—I never thought I'd see you again. and you're—everyone is still here? Really?"
"You're taking this pretty well," Xavier said, snorting softly. He leaned forward, unable to keep his lips off of your skin. He presses a soft kiss to your lips. He'd missed you dearly, if you'd bother to ask.
"I watched all of you die," you breathed out. "I thought you were all gone. But you—you're not gone. You're still here."
Xavier watched you with his pretty blue eyes. "I really never expected to see you again," he said, giving you another tight hug. "Why did you come with them?"
"Um," you said, frowning a bit. "Closure?" You posed your answer as a question. "A chance to... to come to peace with what happened?"
"You sure as hell aren't getting that," he said, letting out a laugh. His lips found their way to your forehead.
You let your eyes shut. "It's only been three years, X," you said. "I've lived... three hell-filled years without you guys. I miss you so much."
You swallowed thickly, completely pulling away from him. You shakily wiped your tears away. "I... Brooke was sentenced. They are convinced she did it. Said there was plenty of evidence pointing to her, but I—I was there too. I don't understand why I didn't—why they didn't blame me," you rambled.
Xavier pursed his lips and he gently took your hands into his. "It's okay. It's not your fault. You know how the justice system is," he said, snorting softly. "It's not like it's a diamond in the rough. It's tough out there."
Your bottom lip quivered as you looked up at him. "Xavier..."
He smiled softly at you. He pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles.
"I... I missed you. I miss you. I miss you guys so much, Xavier. You have no idea."
"Do you think that's why you came?" he asked, looking down at you. "To... be closer?"
Your eyes widened a bit. You hadn't thought of it like that. But maybe, subconsciously, that's what was happening. Your mind knew that it was a way to be closer to your friends. You never expected that you would literally get closer to them, in every way possible.
"You make a good point," you said, sniffling softly.
Xavier grinned, leaning forward to cup your cheeks. "You look hot for a twenty-six-year-old," he said.
You slapped his hand away, and warmth flooded to your cheeks. "It's been three years, not a fucking decade!"
His smile only grew. "You do, though."
You rubbed your nose with the back of your hand, sniffling softly. "You... Xav, it's only been three years," you repeated. "I never thought I'd see you again. I can't believe you're here. I... it's so hard to live without you. I never imagined I'd have to do it."
His smile vanished, replaced with a frown. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead again. You closed your eyes as his lips lingered.
"I know," he said. "But you can't stay here. There's nothing here that would support someone who's alive. You need to go back home, get back to your life."
A snort escaped you. "I don't have a life," you said. "I work. I go home. I sometimes have therapy which doesn't fucking work. I try to ignore the people who brought me here but they leave so many messages on my answering machine sometimes that I want to actually—"
A voice interrupts you, and it's obvious that the speaker is relieved.
"Oh, thank god. They're not your friends?"
Your eyes widened and you quickly spun around, seeing the blood-covered Montana. You could hardly breathe as you let go of Xavier, rushing over to the woman. You wrapped your arms around Montana as tightly as you possibly could.
"Oh my god," you breathed, tears forming in your eyes once more. You silently cursed yourself for the constant waterworks, but the camp seemed to just... draw it out of you. This entire situation was nuts.
"Uh, definitely not God," Montana laughed, hugging you back. "God, Y/n, why the hell are you here? You look hot."
"Hey, back off!" Xavier scoffed. "I already told her that."
Montana just smiled, pulling back. Your clothes were now bloody, but you didn't even look. You shakily wiped your tears away.
"I just... I can't believe you are actually here. Are you sure I'm not crazy? Am I dreaming? Pinch me," you said, holding your arm out to Montana.
She snorted and pinched you, hard. It left a mark.
Xavier smiled and reached forward, grabbing your bicep. "We're here, Y/n. No dreaming for you."
You lost track of time.
When you finally looked out of the dusty cabin window, the moon was peaked high in the sky.
With a slow blink, you looked over at your friends, not really knowing what to say. You didn't want to leave them, again. You couldn't. Not when you now know that they've been here this whole time while you've been grieving their deaths. Not when Xavier has been here.
You reached forward and took Xavier's hand, dragging him out of his conversation with Chet. Chet didn't seem too mad about it, though, and he just grinned at you before going to talk to Ray.
"Can we talk? Outside?"
Xavier smiled at you and simply nodded. He stood up and pulled you to your feet, leading you outside of the cabin. You stood on the edge of the cabin steps. Xavier leaned against the railing and you slowly sat down on the steps.
"Xavier... I can't... leave. I can't leave you guys. Not again."
"What?"
"I've got nothing out there for me, Xavier. I can't leave—"
"—absolutely not. I know what you want. You're not doing that. No way in hell. You're the only one of us who survived, and you need to keep on living, Y/n."
"I only survived because you guys all died before I escaped," you said, your bottom lip quivering. "Final girl trope my ass. Xavier, I can't function without you guys. I can't—I can't do anything without thinking about all of you."
"You will, eventually," Xavier said, sending you a soft smile. He leaned forward and took your hands in his again. "You're strong. You'll be able to."
"When, X?" you questioned. "When I've reached my eightieth birthday?"
He snickered softly and kissed your cheek. "That's bullshit and you know it. You'll be okay. You need to go home, Y/n. You know that we're here. You can visit any time you want to. Stay alive, for me."
"But I—I'll continue to age," you said. "And you'll stay here, exactly the same."
Xavier grinned. "Well, you continue to age for the fuckers who can't. Get a pretty spouse. Make some pretty babies. Come and see us when you have the time."
He was trying to talk you out of it. He didn't want you dead. Hell, if you had died when everything first happened, it would be different. But you were alive. You had so much to live for. He had protected you until his last breath, and he would do it again if he could. Even if it meant sending you away, no matter how much he would have rather had you there.
"I'll continue to age, X. But I'm not ever gonna marry. And I won't ever have kids. Don't lie to yourself."
"Why not?" Xavier asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched you.
"Because the one person I wanted that with is here. Not aging. Dead. A ghost. For fucks sake, Xavier."
He stopped for just a moment, letting go of your hands. "What?" he asked, tilting his head. "Who?"
"What?" you repeated. "You, Xavier," you said. "I didn't want to come back here because I was afraid I'd find your things. Your jacket. Your—your clothes you left in your duffle bag. I didn't want to come back and see the things that you had. I didn't expect—I didn't expect your whole damn ghost. I don't—I don't want to age. I don't want to go and get married and have pretty babies. I wanted to marry you," you said, choking back a sob. "I wanted to date you more. I wanted to fall in love with you even more than I already loved you. You dying made me realize that I would never have that. That I would never love anyone as much as I loved you, Xavier. As much as I still love you."
Xavier didn't say a word, watching you intently.
"I've mourned you every damn day. I—I've wondered, why in the hell did this happen? Why couldn't I have just died with you? And I nearly did it. Several times, Xavier. I would have done it again. After today. If I came here and saw that you... you still had things here. If I saw something that seemed like you or your blood or that damned oven, I—I would have done it."
Xavier quickly took your hands again. "Stop it. Stop talking like that."
"And see? You can't even say it! I've loved—I've mourned you for so long," you said, letting out a soft sob. "You've stared a tee this whole time and said noth—"
You were cut off by cold lips pressing against yours. But just as soon as you had been interrupted, you started kissing him back. You were still crying, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks—all of your pent-up exhaustion and rage releasing with your tears.
Xavier slightly pulled back and let his head press against yours. "I love you, too, Y/n. More than anything."
You squeezed your eyes shut. Xavier leaned forward and wiped your falling tears away.
"The... the only way you can stay here is if... if you die."
You took in a deep breath, looking up at him. You locked eyes with his, not wanting to look away. "I'll do anything I have to. I just can't leave you. Not again. I won't do it."
Xavier sadly smiled, and the ghost felt his own tears begin to form. "Alright, then," he softly said. "I won't stop you." He pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. He was getting what he wanted, even it it felt pretty bittersweet. "How do you... how do you wanna go, baby? It's your choice."
You thought for just a moment. You had thought this out many times before. You looked up at him, and your answer fell from your lips.
"I..."
#queued#xavier plympton#reader insert#x reader#gender neutral reader#xavier#Xavier x reader#Xavier plympton x reader#one shot#Xavier plympton one shot#reader insert fic#gender neutral pronouns#gender neutral#cody fern#montana duke#Chet clancy#has reader insert#1984#American horror story 1984#ahs fanfic#ahs x reader#ahs xavier plympton x reader#1984 x reader#American horror story#ahs 1984#ahs 1984 x reader#Cody fern x reader#cody fern characters
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turns out i have to make an unnecessarily wordy thoughtspost about doombox too bc there is nothing about this character that isn't fucking ridiculous and also really funny and i'm kind of really obsessed with all of it. ordinarily i would just start firing but in this case I need to just. paste his bio and then go through it step by step because every phrase here is absurd when looking at how he's handled along with the other characters and the world as a whole. here we go
first sidenote: i should also add 'nonsensical' to the list of descriptors up there, because this is a fighting game and no doubt has the typical Bad Fighting Game Writing at play that doesn't really hold up when put under scrutiny as i'm about to, but understand that this is something i've come to love about the genre and its typically batshit lore, and it further enhances the experience for me. it's all utter nonsense and its my favorite shit ever.
the biggest thing to me that makes his entire shtick ridiculous is that he was explicitly made to be a weapon. like his express purpose is destruction and/or killing people, and he certainly has the disposition to be doing that. except that he is not doing that. he's out there playing Ball Game, evidently of his own volition.
i feel it is also important to highlight that he was not originally or intentionally a boombox; he just kinda lives in there. his own bio frames it as happenstance, but sonata's dlc skin lore** implies he isn't permanently stuck in there and can kinda just hop out and take control of whatever he wants whenever he wants. there is an entire goddamn tank just sitting there in the background of one of these stages. he is a weapon. there is heavy artillery readily available to him that he could be commanding if he wanted to, but he's not doing that either. he is still a boombox. i think he likes it in there. *there's an argument to be made that maybe he's not powerful enough to control something that large, or maybe just that switching hosts is really tiring or risky. im just saying though there's like a bajillion host devices better suited for A Fucking Weapon than a boombox, but he seems really committed to this for some reason. while im here btw it's fucking terrifying that he apparently can possess thing that are Not tech as well **as a side note from that the specific mention of her boomhammer is interesting. i don't think it's an intentional implication but i enjoy the idea he has an affinity for sound-based devices; i like to think the boombox left an impression on him with its being the initial thing he possessed and got used to
and then there is the berserking. the 'rampaging', as it is otherwise called. not exactly strange on its own given his temperament and designation, but strange for the way it's characterized as only a tendency. it's only that he's prone to rampaging. he rampages often, but not all the time. just often! what is he doing he is not rampaging? getting a custom trimmed jacket with his own logo emblazoned on it? like a nerd? and on the flipside, what exactly do these rampages even entail? because it's apparently not anything destructive or disruptive enough for anyone to care about stopping him under normal circumstances.
like how are you a giant angry "not exactly stable" weapon of a guy and everyone's like 'yeah that's fine. that's our doombox!' toxic's specific wording regarding his getting unfucked postgame is "back to his old raging self", which implies to me there's almost a certain fondness, or at least amusement, at his being like this. i know one of the core themes of lethal league is letting these oddball misfit dudes do their thing and freely be who they are, but like. is doombox sincerely just not a threat for that? like really? dice's interactions also sort of imply that his actually trying to kill someone is really out of the ordinary for him so truly like. db my man what ARE you doing out there. * re: toxic and dice's talking about him; i do also find it amusing that one of his defining traits is just being pissed off all the time. again, not surprising given his purpose/designation as a weapon, but funny in that it's like. how he's KNOWN; in the sense that it is immediately noticeable and a cause for concern for other characters to see he is Not angry. fuckin social barometer of a guy. local angry guy isn't angry, something's wrong.
the "reasons for playing in the league unknown" bit also strikes me as a little odd even though it REALLY shouldn't. i'm like 97% sure it's just written like that to make him seems mysterious and unpredictable and dangerous, but it's a weird thing to call attention to when you consider that...less than half of the other characters' reasons are known? raptor is there trying to get info on his dad, that one's well out there. dust & ashes i think have some kind of implied reason for being there as well but it of course isn't elaborated on, and grid is like trying to impress "the youth" and establish a profile or something. nitro seems like he might not actually be IN the league as an official competitor? it's just helpful for him to know how to ball for the situations he gets into with his investigations. everybody else's "reason" pretty much seems like they're just out there to have fun. and toxic says as much in the story mode intro! the game was developed for people to escape the monotonies of shine city! so to imply doombox has a separate, non-recreational reason for being here is weird. the easiest read on it for me is just that he was drawn to it cause it's intense and destructive but at the same time.... if all he wants is an excuse to wreck shit....why are you competing in a structured sports game with rules and shit my dude. you are a weapon. just go attack people. except that we've established that he doesnt really do that. so. once again. what IS he doing out here
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aside from the bio though, there's of course random little tidbits of characterization throughout the game itself and they are all also likewise ridiculous.
he refers to himself in third person, which is always an amusing choice for a character in general. it carries with it a certain sense of ego, an awareness of and and pride in one's presence and gravitas. this was mostly just surprising to me bc before i started looking at everything, i'd assumed he was more or less mindless and, yknow, robotic; without much personality/reason for being there beyond being the Biggest Baddest Best At Ball Game Guy doombox is already very imposing, so this is frankly a well-earned sense of pride for him to have.....but it still doubles back to being funny again because, as i've established above, he could stand to be a hell of a lot scarier! but he doesn't seem to notice or care that there are many readily-available options for becoming more powerful and/or establishing himself as unquestionable top dog. so instead he is a boombox. third-person is also often used for characters who are a little dumb, and i think this applies to doombox as well. he is a weapon, and clearly a brute-force-over-precision type of weapon at that, he doesnt need smarts. i think this is also sort of hinted at with his voice lines; where the other characters have some kind of snarky phrase or one-liner for their kill/score voice line, doombox just goes "bye-bye". Which is still appropriately Disrespectful, but it's also very, uh... simple. again i just think there are... more imposing things a guy like him could be saying there, but i guess he hasn't got anything more than fucking. bye-bye.
anyways the ego thing i think is well-echoed by his stupid fucking jacket. none of the other characters have their logo as part of their design and i'm pretty sure the rest of the symbols are just game abstractions and don't exist in-universe, but like. doombox is just going around wearing a jersey with his own damn face on it. ok. to be clear i love his jacket but it is literally so silly for him to have that. imagine being the guy having to custom-fit a fucking boombox. did db pay for it? how? we're getting into unproductive territory here but you could ask a million questions about that jacket and they all have hysterical implications. while im on the topic of designs i'd also like to say that while i don't count any of the other blaze redesigns as "canon" like actual events the characters went through between games [like raptor in particular would have already had to have the stitches since that's his backstory, it's just they weren't a design point before], doombox is in a weird spot since the first game's design for him was very specifically referencing its HUD in a meta way for his flavor and that was pretty much the entire extent of his flavor; while in blaze he and the HUD are very much separate distinct things with their own flavor. there's more to talk about here later but as it pertains to design what im saying is i think he just went out and found a better and cooler boombox to be in between games. and also got a funny jacket. *actually i have no idea if there's even a Timeline here. the gut vibe i had been running on was that blaze happens a couple years after the original, but looking at it now that doesn't seem right. does blaze Replace the timeline of the first game? are there even Events in the first game to count as a timeline? do they run concurrently?
alright anyway the last point here is the 3rd-person thing is even moreso interesting to me though bc i was under the assumption that 'doombox' was something akin to a codename he was given when other people saw this big fucking Thang rampaging through the streets. but seeing as 1. he's definitely aware of it, and 2. not even the damn scientists who made him knew he was in a boombox [as implied in his dlc skin lore], i'm led to believe he came up with the name himself. the fucking tape in his cassette player does just say 'doom' on it so i am choosing to believe that's either where he got the name, or that he put that on there himself.
MOVING on, another really good thing is that he does this
i just think it's funny he's continuing to use the thing as an actual boombox; i feel like that isn't something he necessarily Has to do. obviously he's susceptible to certain quirks and limitations of being a boombox re: mind control tape, but i don't think that means he has to play out its every function. i think he's doing that on purpose and i am filing it under "he likes it in there". hes listening to his jams.
also on a similar note,
this is also not important and i realize it's mostly just a quirky videogamey way to get around saying the robot kinda character is "asleep", but i do enjoy the implication that shine city's biggest terror is like out there running on 4 D-cells.
also i'm making this guy out to be a city street menace, and the vibe i had assumed for him before was like, a random encounter in the back alleys that you super do not want to run into; but his associated stage/hangout seems to be the desert/scrapyard? which i don't really have anything interesting to say to that, but it's definitely a different vibe for his character if he typically hangs out in more desolate areas.
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i think maybe the most baffling thing doombox has going on is the apparent "rivalry" with dice. this is also bizzare from dice's side of things. what the fuck does it even mean to be "rivals" with doombox? what are they competing for? what kind of things does dice get up to that doombox would even give a shit about in the first place, let alone to be considered a rival in? i mean, like, the league, probably, but why dice specifically, out of everyone? would doombox's league rival not just be whoever's the [second] strongest there? i believe dice when he says they're evenly-matched, but there isn't really anything that implies dice is of particularly high prestige within the league so it feels like he shouldn't hold much interest as a target. to be fair dice doesn't seem like the type that would care about prestige, but again, if he's not out there flaunting his shit or trying to claim he's the best or whatever, why does db care? this would be a lot easier to understand if it was a one-sided thing on doombox's part like okay maybe dice pissed him off one day and he's still mad about it. whatever. that's the vibe they go for in story mode, but then there's dice's dlc skin description, which seems to run entirely counter to that and has dice as the aggressor:
when deprived of his usual sense and restraint, dice's first thought is I Gotta Go Fuckin Kill Doombox? even if he's over it under normal circumstances, it's clear both of them have some deeper-rooted beef in this exchange. there is yet another layer to this in that doombox is, weirdly enough, not really shown to be the kind of guy that's interested in revenge. again, going back to his own dlc description, he- and i quote- "couldn't care less" about the guys who made him capturing him and chaining him up. his only interest there is breaking out and getting back to doing his thing. if you want to be really generous, you could also read this vibe from the story mode epilogue: doombox was not the one hunting down the safety league, that was nitro. doombox was simply, as stated before "back to his old raging self". both of these to say, he simply does not seem to give a shit about people who have directly wronged him and only wants to Do His Thing. so. once again. what the fuck is going on with dice that they both have lasting beef here. i truly cannot fathom what either of them did to be so mad specifically at eachother. this rivalry is something they reference a LOT too like it's a big deal in-universe, or something otherwise really important to portray. like
lore so strong you gotta put it on an achievement!!!!! really!!!!! and there are no details whatsoever about this????? * while i'm here i'd just like to say have more questions about dice than fucking anything else in this game. sadly there's practically nothing to intuit from the game about any of his situations so i don't have much for coherent thoughts to post on him, but my god. what the fuck, dice. this rivalry is arguably the single strangest thing doombox has going on but it doesn't even break top 5 weird things about dice.
anyways, the final section and MOST interesting thing to me in all this is that, coming out of the first game, i was really under the impression that doombox is just the arbitrary final boss monster you gotta kill; no real purpose or personality his own to speak of, and most importantly just synonymous with the game itself and its aesthetics re: mirroring the HUD design. he certainly still holds the role of big scary final boss monster in blaze too, but blaze 1. has him much more fleshed-out as his own Guy, and more importantly, 2. doesn't really consider him a Problem like your typical big angry final boss monster. or at least not moreso than anything else going on in the game. he's not a threat to be eliminated, he's respected as a character and as a competitor in the league; and more than that he just seems to be... liked? as in, liked by other people in-universe? and he's liked enough that they'll readily help him out so he can keep doing his thing? i do think latch fixed him up postgame mostly bc he felt bad about being the one responsible for getting db brainwashed in the first place but like. the game could have just as easily gone "and then doombox was defeated yay" and left it at that. instead, they seem to have a vested interest in keeping him around. most transparently this is likely just a "we can't get rid of any of the playable characters or else story mode would be noncanon", BUT the point of this post is trying to read cohesive narrative sense into places there probably isn't any, and my read here is that doombox is a sort of inadvertent guardian of the league. for 1, he does still very much embody a lot of what the game [both The Videogame and the league itself] is about, but more importantly i think his presence is just really good at keeping a lot of the more minor threats at bay. if you try to fuck with the league, you will eventually be squaring off with doombox, most likely having freshly pissed him off in the process, and i can't imagine that goes well for who or whatever is in that situation. there's probably not much that wants to stand up to him by himself, and there's even less that can challenge the league as a whole unit; he's really just a good guy to have on your side like in general when you are running an illegal sports operation. i think at Worst toxic might see him as the league's funny little mascot but realistically i think she has more respect for him than that. either way i don't think he's going to care and it doesn't affect him much regardless. for this, doombox simply gets to keep doing his thing, whatever the fuck that may be. there are certainly still forces beyond his control at play here [as demonstrated in story mode by the safety league], and when these come into play, the league in turn looks out for him and keeps him on top of his game. i'm not sure if he has the, uh.... kind of cognitive ability that he could be grateful for this, but if nothing else, we know he seems to enjoy playing in the league, so he probably at least recognizes that he's not going to meet a lot of resistance in it and/or that it's a good environment to keep doing as he pleases. i don't mean for this all to sound so transactional, but it's hard to say whether he has much charisma in-universe for people to want him around for more "legitimate" reasons. likewise, there's also still a lot up in the air on how like... sapient doombox actually is. whether he can have complex motivations about anything or if he has some concept of "having friends" or if he can experience emotions besides rage; i tend to lean to "no" on those because i am really trying my damndest not to woobify this guy, but ultimately i don't think it matters much; in the end, he and the league are still mutually beneficial for eachother, and they still enjoy having the other around. and i think that's pretty cool :)
#lethal league blaze#lethal league#doombox#babygirl i can write misplaced analysis about anythinggggg#also ik im making this post in 2024 but to be clear i've been playing this series since 2016#i never talk about it much but it has always held a special place 4 me.#i come back to it briefly like semi-anually. it just happened to REALLY grab me this time around for whatever reason#and i got really obsessed w doombox. as it goes i suppose#speaking of which the final word count for this one is.... apparently a little over 3k this time. oh my god.#usually these character/game writeup things are like half that length. look i just think hes neat#as my friend said: ''He seems like he should be so self-explanatory but he just isn't''#and ''We learn just enough about Doombox to know we don't know fucking anything about Doombox''#boy id like to know. the things id do for literally any kind of external loredump for this game. auuggghhh
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