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c0s-lettuce · 6 months ago

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wonder - sergei kravinoff x reader

synopsis: you and sergei have always had a friends-with-benefits sort of relationship. but it teeters on something more and more each time he sees you.

word count: 1026

warnings/tags: gender not mentioned, mentions of sex, mentions of violence, minimal swearing

a/n: aaron taylor-johnson, what a man. i think this is the fastest i've written a fic after watching the movie/show. hope you enjoy reading! <3

Sergei and his father have always had their differences. The patriarch would always prattle on about weakness and fear. It was exhausting and mostly certainly not something Sergei missed.

You were a weakness, though. Sergei was sure of this. He kept very few people in his life, and all were for good reason. You were the only exception. He ought to stay away from you, for your sake and his. But he could never bring himself to do so, no matter how hard he tried.

Initially, your relationship with Sergei was purely transactional. Your body for his, and he would be out of your hair soon after. It didn't take long for that to change. He knew he was beginning to grow attached, but he didn't care. He was sure the feeling was mutual.

You were like a balm for his soul, a remedy for the loneliness his line of work brought him. The only intimacy he had with other people was when he was driving sharp objects into the necks of his targets. His hunts were intense and chaotic, but they were something he knew well and was exceptionally good at.

Being intimate with you wasn't so different, except it was infinitely more beautiful. Sergei revelled in the way you trusted and desired him, in how you consumed each of his senses. And the way you fit against him made him wonder more than once whether the two of you were made for each other.

But there were days when he craved more than just your body. He would find himself longing for your gentle embrace and honeyed words. You offered him more affection than he deserved, more than whatever this casual arrangement called for. Yet you gave anyway, and he was all too eager to take.

He adored the feeling of your lips against his forehead and your fingers in his hair as he rested beside you, basking in the blissful state you would leave him in. He would rest his head on your chest, and your heartbeat would drown out the otherwise unbearable noises of your apartment building. And he would fall asleep in your arms.

Sergei was an enigma to you. When it came to his profession, both of you agreed that the less you knew, the better. It was strange, you thought. You were aware of his reputation. But he was so sweet with you, so vulnerable. Sometimes, it made you wonder what else he could be with you. It's then when you would stop your train of thought and join him in sleep.

He would always wake first. And as he looked upon your sleeping form, he would tell himself that now is the best time to leave. And he would at first, with no more than a lingering glance. But the glance lingered longer each time.

He immediately knew he made a mistake the day he decided to stay. There was a particular look in your eyes when you woke up and found him still next to you. Sergei couldn't quite place it. Was it relief? Amusement? Hope?

No, he wouldn't let himself think it was anything akin to love.

Either way, it was addictive. He vowed to never miss any opportunities to see it again.

But on this occasion, Sergei seeks you out after an especially gruelling hunt. He sleeps deeper and for longer than usual. A soft, high-pitched meow wakes him in the morning. He opens his eyes and sees that you're gone. The door is ajar, and your voice can be heard talking to someone on the phone. You sound irritated.

Sergei finally turns his attention to the small blob that has taken your spot in the bed. Sitting there is your cat, Suki, staring wide-eyed at him.

"Hello," he greets her, his voice rough as he readjusts to the waking world.

Suki meows again as if replying to him. Sergei cracks a small smile and props himself up on his elbow. He scoops Suki closer, and she happily snuggles up to him. He busies himself with giving her scratches and belly rubs as he waits for you.

You return to the bedroom soon enough, looking down at your phone with disdain. You sit down on the edge of the bed with your back facing Sergei, tapping away at the screen.

"Everything alright?" he asks you.

"Yeah," you say, "Just my work deciding to bother me on a Saturday morning."

"What do they want?"

"To remind me of deadlines. Don't worry, I'm very politely telling them to fuck off."

Sergei lets out a chuckle. "Alright, good."

Suki's purrs fill the silence as you finish typing your angry text message. You place your phone down with a huff and look over to see Sergei pampering your cat. The sight warms your heart.

"You know, she sits and stares at the front door for at least twenty minutes everytime you leave," you tell him.

Sergei looks up at you, amused. "Really?"

"Yeah, I think she loves you more than me," you reply.

Sergei laughs, looking back at Suki. "Is that right, киса? Do you love me?"

Again, she meows right on cue. You notice she's rather enthusiastic for a cat. Ignoring your daughter's betrayal, you lie back down beside Suki and her new dad. Your eyes fall closed, the comfort of sleep still tempting you.

"You got any plans for today?" Sergei asks after a moment.

"No," you answer, "Just hoping to relax."

He nods, but you don't see it. You also don't notice how he seems to be debating something with himself. After a few seconds, he makes up his mind.

"I'll make us breakfast then," Sergei says.

You open your eyes, surprised. He's never offered to do that before, let alone stayed long enough for you to offer it instead. When you turn to look at him, he's already getting up and heading to the door. Suki gets up after him, carelessly stepping over your stomach to follow him out of the bedroom.

As the pair disappear into the kitchen, you lie there in stunned silence, wondering what's gotten into Sergei. Though, you're definitely not complaining.

➸

#sergei kravinoff #sergei kravinoff x reader #kraven the hunter #kraven the hunter x reader #kraven #kraven x reader #kraven movie #marvel #marvel x reader #aaron taylor johnson #atj

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igotanidea · 10 months ago

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Stretching time: Dick Grayson x reader

Request: I can't stop thinking about how would be Dick's girlfriend with all the batboys, specially Damian, maybe reader and Damian would be like best friends and he's always at Dick's apartment to see her. I would love to see how do you think this would be <3

***

“I swear this is like he doesn’t have a Manor to live in” Dick sighed theatrically, taking a sip of his drink, which happened to be the most colorful one on the menu.

“I suppose we are talking about Damian today?” Wally, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed, casually popping chips into his mouth.

“He’s just always at our place! And Y/N—” Dick shook his head, unable to finish the sentence. Y/N. His wonderful, beautiful, smart girlfriend with a heart of gold, making friends wherever she went. Too good for his world, stubborn and consistent in breaking Damian’s defenses. And while at first, Dick even encouraged her in her attempts, treating it like a dare, knowing she’ll never succeed, now he was getting angry because she actually reached her objective. Becoming bffs with Damian Wayne. Well – as much as an assassin and a vigilante’s girlfriend can be.

“Please don’t tell me you are jealous of a 12 year old, Grayson!” Wally laughed so hard she choked on his snack.

“You crazy? Jealous? Me? Never!”

“Yeah, right. Never-” the speedster laughed again, silently calling Dick off on the bullshit he was trying to feed him with.

“Look man, it’s not like you have an entire family that steals your girlfriend away from you!”

“Well, I wouldn’t let them in the first place—”

“You’re not helping!”

“Would it help If I point out how much of a hypocrite you are, Dick?”

“No! Wait- what? A hypocrite?” Dick raised his head from the table where he previously laid it to accentuate the drama of the situation. And then frowned. And then tilted his head to the side. “Hypocrite, seriously, Wally?”

“You keep talking how Y/N has too soft heart while you are the proverbial older brother always trying to please his siblings-“

“That’s not true!” Dick’s objection was almost immediately cut by Wally’s mocking gaze, almost threatening to use all the examples of the thesis he had in store “Okay, fine! Fine! But those are my brothers, what am I supposed to do?!”

“For starters, maybe you shouldn’t run away to the bar every time Damian comes around?”

“But-“

“Get freaking involved! Your girlfriend is having a good relationship with your siblings. That’s terrible news, truly, I pity you.” Wally mocked, rolling his eyes.

“You just don’t seem to understand! Let me tell you the whole story again—”

“Oh, no, please, spare me going through it all over—”

“It all started a week ago-“

“From what I remember one week ago she went to some kind of reading with Jason?”

“Yes! And from then everyone just started to drive her away!”

“You’re overreacting-“

“Overreacting?! Do you want to listen how she keeps on working with Tim and –”

“NO!”

“Let me tell you then-“

“Whoa! Stop! You know what I think, Dick? I think you should go home and actually talk to her, instead of me.”

“So now you’re abandoning me too?!”

“Abandoning? Oh no, no, no. I’ll be even as kind as to drop you home.”

“What are you- NO!”

He really hated traveling with speedsters. There was never any comfortable position for that, and after he always felt like throwing up.

But there was no denying that it was the fastest way home, even if climbing up the stars turned into a little bit of a challenge for the Nightwing.

***

Obviously, Damian was there with her.

Not really doing anything, just sitting on the couch, staring into space, having one of his moments of vulnerability that took the form of keeping complete silence.

And that silence was not Dick’s ally cause it made them both hear him coming inside.

“I thought you were out with Wally?” Y/N smiled and raised from the spot to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“West?” Damian turned his head in curiosity

“Well hello to you too, Damian. What brings you here today?” Dick hissed, before biting his tongue, earning a little pat on the back of the head from Y/N.”

“Ouch! That hurt. More my feelings than my head, but still.”

“Good. Dami is our guest and—”

“He’s becoming more of a permanent fixture…”

“Dick!”

“Ugh!”

“Should we take this conversation private?” she muttered, frowning and putting hands on her hips. “Or can you go back to being the Dick Grayson I know? The one who can keep his heart and mind open? Please?” She gave him a soft look and a pretty smile. “Come on, it will be fun…”

How could he say no to those eyes…

***

An hour later he started to think that maybe Wally was right. And that maybe his girlfriend was a sorceress.

Otherwise, how else could anyone explain the sudden Damian’s transition from an assassin into a 12 year old almost kid?

He was just talking to her about everything. His school, his friends, his latest picture. Not the emotions, it was not that advanced kind of magic, but just watching those two, feeling so at ease with each other was something supernatural.

And at some point, Damian just gave Y/N a look and she immediately knew what it meant, turning to Dick who was observing them both from a safe distance, amused by the little bubble Damian and Y/N seemed to create around themselves and a little scared to disrupt their peace.

“Hey, dick? Can you leave us for a moment? We got something to discuss with Damian.”

“And I have to go?”

Damian scoffed under his nose as if it wasn’t obvious that he wasn’t going to talk about anything personal with his brother around.

“Pretty please?” Y/N smiled at her boyfriend, leaving Dick no choice but to retrieve to the bedroom.

“So, what’s been eating my favorite bat up?”

“Y/n…’ Damian sighed, allowing himself a little bit of emotionality “do you think I could ever have what you and Dick do?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, don’t push it.”

“If you are talking about girls—” she started and her words were disrupted by a hiss from the boy, who was clearly dissatisfied she actually dared to say it out loud “you’re only 12 Damian. And as much as you hate to let it show, people can tell that you care. In your own twisted way, but if someone watches close enough it’s clear. So I don’t think there’s any reason for you to get uptight about it.”

“I’m not uptight!” he crossed arms over his chest defensively.

“Look, I know your mother and Bruce may have showed you only one way to look at the world but –”

“You are not my parents to raise me, Y/L/N.”

“Thank god! I wouldn’t know how to handle you if you were my kid!” she laughed “But you know what, that’s even better. Cause you can freely twist my words and adjust whatever I say to your own perception. And I have no way to discipline or punish you.”

“So you won’t be leaving me if I don’t live up to the standard?” he asked quietly.

“What? Leaving you? No way!” If it was anyone else she would probably hug him then, but considering it was still Damian Wayne a little playful hair ruffle had to suffice. “Haven’t I told you you’re my favorite? Don’t tell Dick but – “ she made a dramatic pause and raised her voice to make sure her boyfriend heard “I THINK I LIKE YOU MORE THAN DICK!”

“I heard that!” something hit the wall separating bedroom and living room, causing both Damian and Y/N to chuckle.

“You make sure to remember it too, Grayson!”

“I hate you both!” Dick yelled from the wall, but it was obvious he was playing around, acting all goofy to make his girl and brother laugh.

And it seemed like a lot of weight was taken from Damian’s shoulders just because of hearing he wasn;t going to end up alone just because he wasn’t perfect sometimes.

“I should probably get going. Father will –”

“Stay.” Y/N cut him off. “I’ll take care of Bruce. God forbid that man let you have a little rest.”

***

Damian fell asleep on the couch after two servings of ice cream and a multiple rounds of Man don’t get upset. At some point Dick joined them and the evening turned into one giant bonding exercise, interrupted by threats of murder with particular cruelty against Grayson if he ever let off steam about Damian's softer side.

But then, he was dozing off like a little lamb, looking completely harmless and innocent, while Y/N made sure to cover him with a blanket.

“Y/N, can’t you see what that little prick is doing?” Dick appeared behind her, out of nowhere, dragging her to the kitchen to have a little conversation.

“Planning world domination?” She tease with a hint of a smile.

“Yeah, that probably too.” Dick shook his head in amusement “but in this case, he’s taking all of your time and I have to live on scraps of attention.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I don’t like it…”

“I’m training you for the time when our kids appear in the world.”

“K-kids?” his gaze immediately traveled to her belly, judging whether she was being serious, going a little pale. Was he even ready for that? Why didn’t she tell him sooner, there were so many things to be planned and bought and—

“Hey, hey, relax” Her hands rested on his cheeks, forcing his eyes back on hers. “Not now. And not any time soon. But hopefully one day we will have kids. And then what? You’ll be jealous of them too?”

“This is not the same….”

“Maybe. But you can either learn how to share me or get mad and lose me. Which one would you rather?”

“Neither.” He held her tighter, pulling closer to his chest. “You’re all mine.”

“Still- gotta – breathe” the strained voice coming from her was enough proof he was squeezing her too tight. Like a rubber frog whose eyes pop if you press on the right spot.

Dick sighed and released the grip slightly, trying to say something more, but she didn’t let him.

“I can stretch my time for people that are important. And last time I checked, you were still on top of that list. It’s not going to change because I decided to become a mentor to your brother.”

“More like a psychologist.”

“Richard Grayson!”

“What?”

“You keep helping people left and right and it’s not like I have tons of your time either. So you are a hypocrite.”

“That's the second time today I’m being called that.”

“I always knew Wally was smarter than people gave him credit for.” She chuckled “now. It’s barely midnight, quite early for us, so would you like to spend some quality time together?”

“If that’s your attempt at stretching the time then yes, I’d love it.”

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff

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riewritten · 7 months ago

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀 | READ ON AO3

JOHAN LIEBERT x GENDER-NEUTRAL!READER

˚ · .─ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: A reclusive man haunted by a dark past makes a routine of settling in from one remote village to another, it is until his solitude is disrupted by a warmhearted neighbor who slowly unravels his barriers.

˚ · .─ 𝐖𝐎��𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k

˚ · .─ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: post-canon, neighbors, developing friendship, domestic fluff, hurt/comfort, romance but only if you squint, johan goes by a different name, a bit self-indulgent

The morning was quiet, the kind of quiet that wrapped itself around you like a heavy blanket. Johan—or the man who used to be Johan—stood by the edge of a small, weathered dock. The lake before him mirrored the gray sky above, its stillness a fitting companion to his isolation.

Here, in the shadow of the Austrian Alps, no one asked questions. No one looked too closely at the soft-spoken man who had arrived a year ago with little more than a duffle bag and a name scribbled on forged papers: Elias Meyer.

The locals in the nearby village whispered their theories about him. Some said he was a writer escaping the noise of the city; others believed he was a broken man fleeing a past too heavy to bear. No one dared to press him for details, not when his polite smiles came with an unshakable undercurrent of sadness.

Johan—Elias—had chosen this place for a reason. It was far enough from his past that even the most persistent ghosts couldn't follow.

One afternoon, as he carried firewood from the forest to his small cabin, he noticed a group of children playing by the lake. Their laughter echoed through the valley, sharp and carefree, a sound Johan hadn’t heard in what felt like lifetimes.

When was the last time he had heard it again?

With the question, memories of him and Anna running and laughing around the flower fields surged in his mind like a hidden plague aching to be let out. He tried to shake it off, which thankfully, did when a ball suddenly rolled towards him, coming to a stop near his boots.

One of the children, a boy no older than eight, hesitated before approaching him with wide, curious eyes, “Excuse me, Sir.”

Johan bent down, picking up the ball. For a moment, he froze, staring at the object in his hands. Memories of other children, other faces, tried to claw their way to the surface. But he pushed them back, focusing on the boy before him.

“Here,” Johan said softly, handing the ball back.

The boy smiled, and Johan felt something shift—a flicker of warmth where there had only been cold.

Weeks passed, and Johan began to notice the children more often. They waved to him from the village road, their carefree energy drawing him out of his solitude in ways he didn’t understand.

One day, the same boy from before approached him again.

“Mr. Meyer,” the boy said, using the name Johan had adopted. “Can you help us build a raft?”

Johan blinked, surprised. “A raft?”

“For the lake. We want to float it across and see who can paddle the fastest.”

Johan hesitated. He had spent so long avoiding attachments, avoiding the messiness of human connection. But something in the boy’s earnest expression made him nod.

As they worked together, something unexpected happened. Johan began to laugh—not the hollow, calculated laugh of his past, but something genuine, something that startled even himself.

Months turned into a year, and Johan—no, Elias—became a quiet but integral part of the village. He never shared much about himself, and the villagers respected his privacy. But he was always there to lend a hand, whether it was fixing a broken fence or helping the children with their schoolwork.

He didn’t try to forget his past; that would have been impossible. He didn't try to be a good person to reclaim himself either, as that would've been more impossible. Instead, he let it serve as a reminder of what needs to ponder as he lives the rest of his life in solitude.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the mountains, Johan sat by the lake with the boy who had first approached him.

“Mr. Meyer,” the boy asked, “why do you live here all alone?”

Johan smiled faintly, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Sometimes, people need to start over.”

“Because?”

“No reason, really. They just need to. Maybe to see the world a lot clearer than they did in their old lives…?”

The boy nodded, not fully understanding what his blonde friend was on.

Years later, Johan’s presence in the village becomes a story the locals would pass down—a kind stranger who came out of nowhere and left with no warning. No one knew where he went or why he had left in the first place.

But those who remembered him would always recall his kindness, quiet but comforting, faint but indubitably paved more warmth in their lives.

And somewhere, in places even quieter than the village he had already gone through, Johan Liebert immersed in his new name—quite surprised that monsters like him didn’t actually need to consume another’s existence just to gain one. For the first time, he was simply a man, trying to live—at least, that was the routine he had developed for years and years. Elias Meyer, a man almost unnoticeable building himself a haven from one remote town to the other. Johan had no plans of changing it.

Even when he decided to settle in another remote village to check on an old friend (without making his old identity known, of course), he had no plans of changing it. Elias Meyer is an existence that will always be bound to leave.

The mornings in this town were colder than the last one. The frost was biting at the air before the sun had fully risen. The uncomfortable weather might’ve been too cozy for someone like him, and yet his resolve was unwavering—he is Elias Meyer, and Elias Meyer is an existence that would be always bound to leave—it is until you started appearing at his door with delectable breakfasts at hand.

You had moved to this little village years ago after graduating college, and ever since, the neighbors had perceived you as a bright newcomer with an eagerness to meet each one of them. Poor Elias, they thought to themselves humorously, because they just know his preference for solitude—even to the point of owning a cabin at the edge of town—would have no say once faced with your resolute extroversion.

You perceived Elias as that tall, blonde man whose face looked carved from stone—a beauty so ethereal it’d be a waste if he wasn’t basking in the sun for everyone to see every morning. He barely acknowledged anyone. He kept to himself, slipping into town only for essentials, his words clipped but polite. And unfortunately for you, most of the neighbors could respect his solitude.

But you couldn’t.

When you first saw him at the market buying his fair share of supplies and vegetables, he has unknowingly bewitched you. His beautiful, distant face seemed wrapped in shadows you couldn’t decipher. And perhaps you're a cat whose curiosity would someday get you killed, or perhaps a moth doomed to die by its entrancement to the fire. The neighbors were right, much to their excitement—Elias is doomed to be your project.

The first morning you knocked on his door, you had a basket in hand—freshly baked shortbread cookies, a jar of honey, and a thermos of hot tea.

When he opened the door, his expression was unreadable, pale blue eyes scanning you with a calm detachment that made your stomach flutter.

“Good morning, my new neighbor!” you chirped, holding the basket out. “I figured you might want some breakfast.”

He stared at you for a moment, his gaze cool but not unkind. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Oh, come on, you haven’t even tried it yet!” you insisted, pushing the basket forward. “I made it myself.”

There was a long pause, the kind that might have made anyone else shrink back. But not you. You smiled, unwavering, until he finally sighed and took the basket from your hands.

“Thank you,” he said again, quieter this time. Then he closed the door.

It was all it took for him to take note of your existence? Hell, he looked at you for a solid minute from head to toe, as though taking in your presence before his very eyes! You left his doorstep feeling victorious.

The next morning, you knocked again. And the morning after that.

At first, he didn’t seem to know what to do with you. He would accept the food with a quiet nod, barely saying a word before closing the door. But over time, you noticed subtle changes—with how he lingered a little longer at the threshold, and with how his eyes softened just the slightest when he saw you.

“You really don’t have to do this,” he said one morning, as you handed him a bowl of steaming soup.

“I know,” you replied with a grin, “but I want to.”

He stared at you, as though trying to puzzle you out. “Why?”

“Because you look like you could use a friend.”

The words seemed to unsettle him. He didn’t reply, but this time, he didn’t close the door right away.

Weeks passed, and your morning visits became a routine. He started inviting you inside—not for long, just enough time to sip tea or exchange a few words.

You learned his name was Elias Meyer, though something in the way he said it made you wonder if it was real. You didn’t press him for details; you could tell he valued his privacy, and you could at least respect that despite the things you couldn’t.

But little by little, you saw glimpses of the man beneath the quiet exterior. He was incredibly observant, noticing small details about you that no one else did. He rarely smiled, but when he did, it felt like the sun breaking through clouds.

One morning, you brought him a basket of wildflowers along with the usual breakfast.

“They reminded me of you,” you said, setting the basket on his table.

He gave you a strange look, his lips twitching as though he didn’t know whether to laugh or frown. “Wildflowers reminded you of me?”

“Sure,” you said brightly. “They’re quiet, but they still make the world a little more beautiful.”

Despite the amusing remark, Johan seemed to remember something from a long past, something that made him stare at the flowers way longer than intended. Then, you saw him smile—not a ghost of one, but a real, genuine smile. It was fleeting, but it made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t quite understand.

“You should smile more, Elias,” you blurted, which in turn dissipated Johan’s smile with a clear of his throat.

“Not my thing.”

But still! You quietly gushed. What a beautiful smile! You went home victorious yet again when dusk came.

One evening, as the sun set behind the mountains, you found yourself sitting on the porch of his cabin. He had made tea for the two of you, a small gesture that felt monumental considering how reluctant he’d been to accept your kindness at first.

“Why do you keep coming here?” he asked suddenly, his voice low but steady.

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I’m not the kind of person people like you should want to be around.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “What makes you say that?”

His eyes darkened, a shadow passing over his face, and yet he stayed silent, refusing to answer. It didn't take long for you to put the pieces together. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “We all have pasts, Elias. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a future.” For a moment, he looked at you as though you were something incomprehensible, something he couldn’t quite believe was real.

The days turned into weeks, then months, and slowly, Johan—or Elias, as you knew him—began to change. He still valued his solitude, but he didn’t seem to mind sharing it with you.

He never told you the full truth about his past, not that you ever asked. You didn’t need to know who he had been to see the man he was becoming.

Johan was getting accustomed to his new normal, but then it changed again.

It is a change that, perhaps, would require Johan to rethink the duration of his stay in your village. How strange, one might think, for Johan had developed more disdain for permanence ever since he started living like this. And he only came here to check on an old friend, wanted to see if they’re doing well and good, then he’d be quietly taking his leave again, right? Under what instances must his agenda change?

It started the first morning you didn’t knock on his door. Johan didn’t think much of it. People had lives, after all. Perhaps you’d overslept, or maybe you were busy with something else.

The second morning, however, felt different. He found himself waiting by the door longer than he cared to admit, listening for the sound of your footsteps or the soft knock he’d grown accustomed to. When it didn’t come, he stood there for several minutes before stepping back, unsettled.

By the third day, Johan’s thoughts refused to quiet. Something about your absence gnawed at him, a peculiar weight in his chest he couldn’t name. He hadn’t realized how much he’d come to expect you, to rely on the brightness you brought with you each morning.

So that evening, just as the sun dipped below the horizon, Johan found himself standing in front of your small, weathered house.

The curtains were drawn, and the porch light was off, but he could see a faint glow from inside. His knuckles rapped against the door, firm and deliberate.

“Are you there?” he called, his voice steady but quieter than usual.

There was no answer, but the light inside didn’t move. He waited a moment longer before trying the handle. It turned easily, and he stepped inside, his footsteps nearly silent against the wooden floor.

You were on the couch, curled into yourself, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. The sight stopped him cold.

There he goes, his hand stops around the doorframe as he processes the sight. And, perhaps, the realization that out of everyone in this unpopulated village, he might not be the one who does best at masking his real self. You, who were always so buoyant, so irrepressibly bright, were now something else entirely—small, vulnerable, broken in a way he hadn’t seen before. You were still wearing the clothes he had last seen you with three days ago. Your hair was all greasy, and your skin was oily as it wrapped around your body. It must’ve been uncomfortable on your end. Your whole house was chaotic, too. As if it had been abandoned for weeks.

He took a careful step forward, then another, stopping just short of the couch. “You didn’t come this morning,” he said softly, as though the words themselves might shatter you further.

“Please, don’t look at me…” Slowly, you turned to look at him, your face streaked with tears as you realized that it was Elias before you, the last person you’d expect to visit you such an hour—with a face hinting concern, no less. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice raw. “I... I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

He crouched beside you, his expression calm but intense, his pale blue eyes fixed on yours. He didn’t move for a long moment, his mind working in ways it hadn’t in years. Comforting others was not something he was accustomed to. His presence had always been a harbinger of destruction, not solace. And yet, here you were, someone who had given him pieces of light he didn’t think he deserved, now in desperate need of something in return.

He reached for the blanket draped over the back of the couch and gently wrapped it around you. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though trying not to startle you.

What surprised you, however, was when he sat down beside you, leaving just enough space to make his presence felt without crowding you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his voice low but not unkind.

You shook your head, clutching the blanket tighter. Minutes passed in silence, broken only by your uneven breaths. Johan sat perfectly still, his gaze fixed on some indeterminate point ahead. He didn’t press you, didn’t offer hollow reassurances. Instead, he stayed there, his calm presence steady against the storm inside you.

When your sobs finally quieted, he heated some tea on your countertop, paving his way onto your kitchen with all the familiar stock of food, all because these were all you’ve been bringing to his door first thing in the morning. Much to his surprise, he sees the familiar basket on the edge of your kitchen—two pieces of sourdough bread, a thermos of tea, and a jar of honey refilled. It means you had an attempt to get out of your house and go to his somehow; it’s just that you failed miserably.

Johan is then confused. What made you sink this low? What have you been amidst all the smiles you shine down upon everyone? The monster inside him spoke; poor human beings, to absolutely despise their real form so much to feign buoyancy and joy when out of their safe havens. How despicable.

This was the first time—since Johan had escaped that dreary hospital bed—that he had gotten confused about which voice he’d let take over inside his pretty little head.

Without a word, he handed the mug of tea to you, fingers brushing yours briefly. “Drink,” he nonchalantly said. “It will help.”

You hesitated but took the cup, your hands trembling slightly as you brought it to your lips. After you’d finished, Johan stood and moved toward the kitchen again. You watched him, confused, as he opened a few cupboards and began preparing something—toast, simple and unassuming, but warm. When he returned, he set the plate in front of you without a word.

“You don’t have to eat it now,” he said, his voice softer than before. “But you should eat something.”

The care in his actions, so understated yet deliberate, brought fresh tears to your eyes. There you go again, Johan pointed out in his mind. He never thought you’d be a crybaby. As much as you’d like to disrupt his solitude in the morning, it seemed like he has also taken a liking to observing your every action. How unusual.

Johan stayed until you fell asleep, sitting quietly in the chair across from the couch. As your breathing evened out, he leaned back, his gaze lingering on your tear-streaked face.

And again, for the first time in years, he felt something unfamiliar—a desire not to fix or manipulate, but simply to be there.

As he left the house that night, locking the door behind him, he had decided that whatever it was that fractured your smile, perhaps it would be in his best interest if he didn’t let it consume you—not if he could help it.

A few days passed, and your routine of appearing before his door first thing in the morning still hadn’t gone back.

What surprised Johan instead was the soft knock on his door in the middle of the night, waking him up from a light slumber. He had mentally thanked himself and his unhealthy sleeping habits because as soon as he opened the door, he found you standing there, shivering, your face pale and your eyes wide with a mix of fear and lingering tears.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, clutching the edges of your cardigan. “I had... a bad dream.”

Johan studied you silently for a moment, his gaze sharp but not unkind. Without a word, he stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in.

He didn’t ask what the dream was about as he could sense the weight of it in your shoulders just well—it was in the way you hugged yourself, in your trembling as if the nightmare still had its claws keeping in its wake. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. It’s just that he didn’t know what to say; it's been decades since he had comforted someone who just woke up due to their own plaguing demons—it was back in the days when his sister, Anna, could still turn to him like this whenever she dreamt of the Red Rose Mansion.

So instead of pressing you on it, he heated some chamomile tea and placed the warm mug in front of you before sitting across the table, repeating his gesture the nights prior.

“You’re safe now,” he managed after a while, voice steady and calm, as if willing you to believe it.

“Am I?” you blankly stared down the ground, letting the smell of chamomile permeate your senses. It wasn’t long until your words sunk at you: Crap, he might think I’m being sarcastic, and so you muttered, “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I didn’t mean to bother you, I just... I just didn’t know where else to go.”

"Worry not, you've come to the right place." What did he mean by that? Isn't he bothered? It's three in the morning, Elias. After a few sips of tea, Johan suggested, “Stay here tonight. The dream can’t follow you here.”

You nodded, thankful, but the lurking question was still in mind: Why? Why would the dream not follow you here?

But Johan knew the veracity of his statement all too well, albeit lost at how and why he was acting so unlikely of his character. You came to the right place, indeed, for the monster won't reach you if he’s here. No monster would dare, that much he knew, as much as he had liked the intrigue of other beings becoming a master of Johan’s own game. “Want to tell me what happened?”

You shook your head, unable to form words.

He stayed silent, as though waiting for you to form your thoughts. And when you failed, he just moved to sit beside you instead, not daring to ask questions or try to pull answers from you.

His presence was quiet but steady—a calm in the storm even—that you couldn’t help yourself but rest your head against his shoulder. He didn’t move away; if he was surprised or irked, he showed no sign of it either.

Perhaps the only lurking question in his head was that; how do people usually do this? His hand hovered for a moment before he rested it lightly against your back, his touch—perhaps—was perceived by your brain as a silent reminder: Go on, I’ll stay as long as you need.

"Thank you, Elias," you mutter. "And sorry. I'll make it up to you."

Despite Johan feeling all too unfamiliar—not only with the name but with the mere act of being thanked—he didn't show it upfront. It's as if he's a mere watcher, an observer seeing how things unfold. He's definitely not someone to be thanked, he's sure as hell you're not thanking him—as in the person that he is—but rather the person that he's showing in front of you, as Elias Meyers, as the neighbor you had quite taken a liking with.

However, he's not that kind and caring to not use it for his own gain yet. "Show yourself up on my doorstep again once you're all better, preferably with a breakfast at hand to save me the hassle of cooking for myself."

"Tch," you chuckled and rolled your eyes at how silly the payment had sounded, but you nodded anyway. You miss bugging him during the day.

For hours, the two of you sat there, the world outside forgotten. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t carrying the weight alone. You ended up falling asleep on his couch, the blanket he draped over you smelling faintly of the pinewood walls of his cabin.

TAG LIST 🏷️ @chxrry-writes @nefarra @ellabellapumela @skexxll @melonvrs

by the way, FOR MY OIL WELL FIRES LOVERS, allow me to cook... read more here ;) also saying this before anyone asks; no i don't want to continue this yet im sorry. maybe after i finish oil well fires? but if someone wants to then pls do and pamper me some johan liebert fluff :( i am so sad

@xeiin-n @s0m4-sh4rk | SUBSCRIBE/UNSUSCRIBE TO STORIES

#johan liebert x you #johan liebert x reader #johan liebert x y/n #monster fanfiction #johan x reader #johan x y/n #johan x you #johan liebert fanfiction #johan liebert fanfic #monster fanfic #johan liebert fluff #johan liebert x gender neutral reader

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ultimate-marysue · 6 months ago

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My personal body headcanons for the Batfam

Bruce: He is a tank made of pure muscle. Like many other users have put forward (recommend especially @frownyalfred posts on the matter), that's not an easy feat to pull off. It is a testament to Bruce's willpower and dedication to Batman that he's even able to maintain it. Also, I think he took really good care of his scars in the beginning so they would be as inconspicuous as possible when sleeping around as Brucie. Once he gets older and leans more into the father persona he stops caring as much for anything that's going to be covered by his suits and shirts.

Barbara: I hated the fact that her disability got completely erased, so that's the first difference. If you want to have her be Batgirl again, you should do what Gotham Knights did and make it so there are lasting effects and limitations. I'm sorry, but it feels so cheap to me that they just erased disability rep cause they didn't know how to write a strong disabled woman. Skill issue. Also Barbara is built like a brick in my heart of hearts, she's a rectangle with the density of a neutron star. I also think she has one of the healthiest and normal diets of the Bats, mainly cause the physical requirements of Oracle aren't nearly as demanding.

Dick Grayson: I'm not going to reinvent the wheel here by saying Dick Grayson has the perfect acrobat's body. My headcanon is that he gets it naturally. Not that he can just do whatever you want, sadly with their line of work you need to meet a series of requirements. I mean it in the sense of 1) proportions 2) really high metabolism from constant exercise since he was a child, probably the fastest tied with Cass 3) he doesn't need to work out as much outside patrol as the rest to keep his body mass. Every single robin after him low-key hates him for creating a fighting style that only he can do effortlessly.

Cassandra Cain: like mother like daughter, my girl is thick. None of that waifish, delicate ballerina shit. She's short and she has muscles most humans haven't heard of. Average goon tries to knock this 5 feet nothing girl only to be met by an unmovable object. Also, probably contender for top most scarred bat of all. She just looks like she could fuck your shit up without breaking a sweat and that's probably because she could. Also I think she has short legs, giving her an even lower center of gravity. She's just a brick wall.

Jason Todd: my man is one of the few bitches in this family with a normal, healthy, percentage of body fat. He's built like a strong man instead of a body builder, and the fact that he can be sneaky with all that mass is terrifying. I think for a minute there he wondered what he was doing wrong and why he didn't look as lean as Bruce. Then he figured what Bruce had to do to keep Batman's body in line and Jason said "fuck that, I'm not doing all that". In his villain self destructive era that waist was snatched, but the second he started taking actual care of his body it did what body's do. Considering how he mixes so many fighting techniques I can see him building his fighting style around his needs instead of the other way around.

Steph: she's the curviest of the Batgirls, which is why she favors so much the "indistinct blob" silhouette. As any woman with a boobs size above an B cup will tell you: people get disgusting really quick. I think part of her struggles with Robin was trying to wrangle her developing body into a fighting style designed for a very naturally lean boy. Balancing is harder when you have a large set of bazonkers, they don't tell you this in the comics but it is the truth. She also lacks the super fast metabolism other Bats have, and I can see her trying really hard to fit in the mold only to realize as she grows older that she can do her own thing.

Tim: I think Tim, growing up as society kid and then forcing himself into the Robin role, never learned what eating healthy is. I headcanon him having some sort of ED (I think he would evolve through a few of them as he grew up), not because I like throwing angst at characters (though I do) but because it makes sense to me giving his background and personality. EDs are not only about "looking thin", but also about feeling in control. Also, Tim hanging onto the Robin title reminds me of child actors trying to force their developing body's to stop at a kid size so they can keep playing their character. I could write a whole post about it, but for what's relevant, the ED headcanon doesn't mean Tim is just super thin. I think his body is fluctuates the most out of any of the Bats, depending on where he's at mentally and age wise.

Duke Thomas: my boy is built for parkour. He's got the longest limbs in the family, he's got the reach. He keeps waiting for puberty to hit him like a train and give him Jason/Bruce levels of muscle mass, but he's just too tall. Like, yes, he can bench press Jason, but proportionally he's so much taller than all of them by then he just looks noodly. When he puts on the body armor though he makes Batman look like a Barbie doll. Anytime he's looming about, Jason accuses him of overcompensating. Duke just pretends to not be able to hear him from up above. Also pls DC give him long hair that floats around him in the same way Batman's cape does?? Pls, just give him magic girl hair that defies gravity.

Damian: I've said this before but this poor child grew up being told he'd one day be as huge as his dad but grows up to be Talia 2.0. I think he does inherit Bruce's height, but is distraught to never be hulking mountain of muscle like OG Batman. Little does he know Bruce isn't naturally that big either, and it's only through frankly unhealthy means he maintained that body. Everyone else agrees to never tell Damian about it so he won't even think to try it, and instead focus on reassuring him he's more than strong enough to inherit the title if that's what's bothering him. It ends up playing in his favor, Cass is proof that you don't need to be huge to instill the fear of God into people. And the way he moves, like a panther stalking his prey, is more than enough to make the rogues quake.

#batfam #batfamily #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #Cassandra Cain #duke thomas

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echantedtoon · 1 year ago

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YANDERE DEMONS AND BRIDES P2

Ok. So part 2 is here. Mostly because Hantengu is actually 7 people packed into one and I'll be needing to tackle them all in their own posts. I'll do a part 3 with the lower moons next

Warnings for yandere-ish (???) themes, kidnapping mentions, possibly death mentioned, mention gore(Hantengu ripping up his body to let the clones out) and threats, Mentions of Urogi accidentally cutting Yn, mentions of a dead animal, Karaku IS his own warning, possibly some innuendos, etc.

I won't really do them separately because I can't really see one developing feelings for a single clone because they'd be inside Hantengu most of the time so the only way you'd develop any relationship with the clones is by hanging about Hantengu the entire time.

Zohakutan will also be included as he is a part of Hantengu but his segment WILL BE PLATONIC!! I DON'T CONDONE ANY OTHER WAY!!

HANTENGU + CLONES:

COMPASSION AND PATIENCE

-If you know him then you know his backstory and victim complex. Unless he's killing someone to eat or carrying out whatever orders Muzan wants him to, he's avoiding people like the plague which still he blames everyone else for. So it's unlikely he'd actually meet you unless Muzan ordered him to eliminate you, he's hungry, you're a slayer, or it's by complete accident. Let's go with the last one for this.

-Like usually he hides away from anything and everything. This time taking shelter in an old abandoned shed during the day. Only it isn't abandoned. It's YOUR house. And it's not unoccupied because you come home later in the day from hours of shopping and visiting friends in the town a few miles away from you. You don't even notice the demon in your home because he's hiding in the darkest corner shaking and watching as you walk about putting away new fabrics and food to be made into lunches and dinners later days.

-You accidentally bump into your kitchen cabinet knocking a pot off making a loud noise that startled the demon into shrieking and scrambling across the room startling you into shrieking, dropping objects, and whirling around wide eyed. You both freeze. He's mumbling and shaking like a cat dipped in cold water under your kitchen table and you're staring at what looks like an old man. You both just freeze staring at one another.

-Eventually you slowly relax seeing it was just an old man but you were still highly cautious. It was too dark for you to tell he was a demon in the limited lantern light and the fact most of him was hidden under the table. After a moment you speak to him in a gentle voice asking him if he's alright and when he answers you in sobs and shakes, you couldn't help but feel so bad for him. You took care of your grandparents until they passed away so seeing this assumed poor old man has you feeling so sorry.

-So you offer him something he's never had before. You smile so beautifully at him and tell him it's not his fault for being scared. You ask if he has any nearby family and as he answers no, you tell him he can stay the night in the guest room and you'd figure out what to do in the morning. You try to coax him out by offering him some food to which he reluctantly agrees. Being so used to helping the elderly thanks to the care you gave your grandparents, you easily held him pulling him slowly to his shaking feet and slowly walk him towards the guest room taking your arm in his. Hantengu is stunned, shocked, twisted-......And in his twisted mind it's already concluded one terrible fate for you.

-Hantengu is not one shy to marriage. As a human he's had many relationships and families even if they never ended well. He doesn't remember a lot about them. He has a faint knowledge of having previous wives but he doesn't remember any of them. But that doesn't stop him from thinking that you would be the perfect wife. Compared to other demons Hantengu is the most delusional and the fastest to turn yandere FAST.

-You are surprised when you wake up the next day and find the old man gone no where to be found in your home or the town and no one has seen any old man walking around by themselves when you ask around. Strange. You spend all day looking for him out of worry but give up when you could find him no where in the town, your home, or the nearby forest. You return home before it gets too dark and are surprised to find all of the raw meat you bought the day before completely gone. You only find one half pork chop left with what looks like a wolf's sharp teeth had taken a big bite outta it.

-It weirds you out. On top of the sudden disappearance it sends a bad feeling through you. However you chalk up the old man to a wild dream and the missing meat as a wild animal because honestly you did leave the front door open when you rushed out to search for him. There's no other evidence of him being there so you soon put it out of your mind.

-A few days later you truly realize the horror of your choices as your front door opens wide one night and lit by the bright fireplace is a horrifyingly terrible creature. Shaking with tears running down his face. You're too stunned, to scared, to petrified to speak as he just crawls towards you and tell you in a sobbing but affectionate voice that your husband was home.

-In Hantengu's mind you both are together with you being the perfect caring wife when in reality you're too scared and confused to correct him (for now). He will bombard you with needy whines and sobs expecting you to comfort him with whatever it is he's terrified about. Awkwardly and fearfully you do buying your time until you can figure out what to do about this demon sitting down at the dinner table shaking and expecting dinner (which is usually just raw steaks and such for him) to be served by his pretty wife.

"It's N-Not my fault! You know that d-don't you?"

The rest of these guys all share a similar sentiment to Hantengu however they do have their own opinions on the subject.

URAMI:

-(Bare with me. It was the only gif of Urami I could find.) Actually is the clone you see the very least. In the year and a half of you nicely pretending to go along with Hantengu's 'wife' delusion before Tanjiro frees you unknowingly, you only ever encounter Urami twice.

-The first time you meet him is the same day you're bombarded by all of the clones. They were all itching to come out to meet their new 'wife'. As they're all extensions of Hantengu they all share the same delusions. So you shrieked as Hantengu ripped himself up forming two younger men before they ripped up each other turning into FOUR young men along with one giant version of Hantengu holding his now tiny form in the palm of his hands. You shriek out before fainting. Thankfully Aizetsu caught your limp form.

-Urami is the clone of Resentment, he embodies the resentment of all of Hantengu's past wives not being as good as you. Threatens you not to hurt his 'innocent self's' heart or else he'd make you resent it! You faint again from the intensity of that meeting causing the others to panic and Sekido smack him over the head with his staff.

-The second time you meet him is two months before Hantengu's death and your freedom being restored. He startled you just walking into your home right behind the other clones. He was so tall he had to duck just to get in through the door. Turns out a semi strong demon had challenged him to a blood battle for Upper Moon Four causing five of his six clone forms to appear. He ignores Sekido's arguing with him as he just places one giant hand on your head patting it like a dog as you stared frozen up at him.

"We go through a lot of trouble for you. Don't make me resent you for that."

SEKIDO:

-If you thought Karaku and Urogi's antics or Hantengu's clinginess gave you headaches, then let me introduce you to Mr. Hothead.

-Sekido represents all of the things he's angry about in a relationship. 'His wife not being compassionate enough' or how their wives usually 'blamed them when they were nothing but innocent.'

-Despite this you'd much rather spend time with him than most of the other clones outside Aizetsu. He actually yells and pushes the others off of you angry he isn't getting a turn to just hold their wife. Does it give you headaches? Yes. Does it terrify you? Definitely. Would you rather silently let Sekido hold you and listen to all of his complaints than listen to Karaku make another innuendo or have Hantengu get your dress wet again as he clung onto you? ABSOLUTELY! At least Sekido doesn't smother you as much as the others.

-However he's ALWAYS nitpicking on the things he hates you do that make him annoyed or angry. Have a vase he doesn't like? Complain! You don't have enough raw meat ready for your 'husband's' dinner? Complain! Karaku and Urogi hold you too long? COMPLAIN! He never threatens you unlike Urami, after all he hates to think about you being upset with him. But sometimes he gets so angry with the others it starts a fight and parts of your home is damaged.

"Can't you just appreciate what I'm trying to do for you!?"

KARAKU:

-(For this instance of Karaku I'm keeping him strictly the clone of Relaxation because everything I write is sfw) Karaku is one of the main three you see most often. Mostly you only see Hantengu however since Sekido and Karaku are the first two clones that appear they're the main two clones you see.

-Karaku is giddy and like Hantengu is overbearingly clingy. He's always slinging an arm around you or taunting Sekido into blowing up again much to his and Urogi's amusement. He's the main culprit of why you have so many headaches because despite his relaxed personality he's...TOO laid back around you.

-You'll find him splayed across YOUR bed napping and if you ask him to move he only laughs with a relaxed smile and offers that you can join him. More than once this has lead you to end up sleeping on the floor because the other clones and Hantengu are taking the guest bed.

-He has ZERO filter let's just say. He's too relaxed and ok with many innuendos and jokes about your figure or at your expense making you shutter and start to prefer Sekido and Aizetsu's presence over his. It always rules the anger clone into a fight and makes Urogi laugh much to your dismay and horror.

-He's upset and confused by why you always avoid him leading him to want more physical contact much to your uncomfort. An arm around your shoulders or waist, patting your head, sudden hugs- He's hurt when you always scramble away to duck behind the nearest clone that isn't him or Urogi. He's very dense even if Sekido bluntly tells him you don't like that.

-One got smacked by a frying pan while you were doing dishes and he kissed your cheek suddenly. Urogi still makes fun of him for it.

"You need to relax and quite being so uptight all the time, Baby.~"

UROGI:

-Out of all seven of them Urogi is the one who makes all of them keep an eye on him including Karaku who's usually relaxed. The thing is Urogi gets bored easily unlike Karaku who's relaxed 24/7 and doesn't need to be entertained. However because he's constantly doing antics or things that make him happy and he's overjoyed to finally be getting a wife...The others keep an eye on him like a pack of watchdogs.

-More than once you've gotten scratched by his talons. Not on purpose but sometimes he's so excited about you he ends up scratching you with his talons causing Sekido to rage and beat him to a cooked chicken casserole as Karaku and Aizetsu bandage your teary eyed self.

-His birb instincts take over a lot of the time he's out. One time you shrieked and ended up crying when he brought you a bunny he hunted out of instinct. He was confused and heartbroken when you didn't like it but didn't do it again after another round of Sekido yelling at him and seeing how unhappy it made you.

-Other bird husbandry includes him doing those weird birb mating dances much to Karaku's laughter and your confusion. He also builds a nest high in a tree. More than once you get carried up there shrieking and end up clinging to the tree out of fear of falling as the four argue. Karaku once tried blowing you down with his fan only to get smacked over the head Sekido. Aizetsu had to be the one to climb up and coax you into hanging onto him as he climbed down.

-This happens a few more times before you're ultimately freed of them but it doesn't happen too often anymore after the first time because the others keep a firm eye on Urogi while he's out.

-Joins Karaku in his antics of being clingy just to annoy Sekido. He finds it funny and gets a kick out of riling him up. However it saddens him when that only pushes you further away from both of them.

"Don't be such a a killjoy. You're acting just like Sekido."

AIZETSU:

-The clone who you mostly trust. Aizetsu is an interesting case. He's still as delusional as the others but he's not oblivious to the fact despite your remaining kindness (outta fear) your 'relationship' is making you unhappy, stressed, and possibly depressed. He knows the signs being the clone of sorrow. Does he do anything about this? No. He's still delusional as said and believes that you're the one for them and somehow he can make this work. He just needs to be patient. As I said, they're all delusional.

-He becomes the go to clone you prefer to interact with. While he does nothing to stop the 'relationship', he doesn't cause you headaches or nitpicks like Sekido, he's not as prone to sudden antics or make innuendo jokes like Karaku and Urogi, he certainly does threaten you like the two times you see Urami, and while a bit clingy he is WAY less than Hantengu. If anything most your bonding time is him just silently listening to you vent. If the others weren't included or he wasn't a demon you might've actually dated him.

-He's the go to clone whenever you're crying, need space, or if the others can't console you. If you're trying to escape the others and Sekido isn't near, he's the first one you hide behind. He knows it's sad behavior but he can't help but feel proud you trust him so much out of everyone, and how sad his brother's behavior makes him.

-The downsides though is that in a similar way to how Sekido complains about anything you do that annoys him, he tells you that anything you do that that he finds annoying makes him sad. Give Sekido more attention? You're making him sad. Talking about how you like your favorite dress? You're making him sad. Want to do anything that doesn't involve Aizetsu? YOU'RE MAKING HIM SAD! You start to also get tired of that part of him quickly.

"You're making me sad acting out like this."

ZOHAKUTAN:

-Like Urami you only ever meet Zohakutan twice in the year and a half you and Hantengu are 'married'. The first time you ever see him is also the first ever time you meet all the clones. After two hours of being petrified and having Karaku and Urogi fond over you, Aizetsu silently watching outside of introducing himself and saying their behavior is making him sad, Sekido complaining at them, Urami subtly threatening you, and Hantengu hiding/being clingy you think it can't get much more worse or terrifying. You are dead wrong.

-After subconsciously listening to the other six talk to you for a few hours, Zohakutan wants to meet the new wife too. So Sekido under his constant nudging, absorbs three of the others making you faint again. When you wake up later, the four young men are gone and Urami also disappeared. All that's left if Hantengu's tiny form shivering in the corner and a young boy that's old enough to be your younger brother is staring down at you. Scowling. "It's about time. I hate being kept waiting!"

-You quickly learns that this is just another clone. He's just as delusional too. No!! I'm not shipping him but his delusions make him see you the same as Hantengu. Weak, innocent, something that needs to be protected at all costs. So while he's not a romantic yandere he is a platonic yandere who deems you are not to be harmed under any costs.

-He absolutely HATES Hantengu's past wives, and sees you as the innocent angel Hantengu deludes himself into seeing you as. They share the same main brain so this thought process extends to Zohakutan too.

-You only see him briefly both times, around ten to fifteen minutes for each encounter before he goes back to being dormant in Hantengu. The first time was to just introduce himself to you. The second was right before their mission. He wanted to assure you that because of him all those demon slayers who dare hurt innocent people like you 'and Hantengu' would be dead. This only makes you more scared of him however. Thankfully that was the last time you saw Zohakutan or any of them for that matter.

"I hate those who prey upon the truly weak ones such as you. All evil scum shall perish."

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misskattylashes · 1 month ago

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Big Ideas – an analysis….

Thank you to @lalaballa for suggesting I share my analysis of this song, so here goes..

On the surface it looks quite simple, that it is about the process of recording a song and the excitement that goes with it. But I think that it goes deeper than that and actually has a link to One Point Perspective.

In an earlier post, I said how I think the opening verse of OPP ‘dancing in my underpants etc..’ is about young Alex and his youthful exuberance and enthusiasm for the band, which gets hampered by ‘Mr Winter Wonderland’ (ie the industry) so he ends up at a point where he wants to call it quits, but he can’t.

Well, that's quite a number to sing Spotlit, getting lowered in Can you co-direct and play the twins

I think this is about the beginning of their career, hence the spotlight being lowered in, and the number to sing is more than likely Dancefloor, because it caused such a stir when it was released because it sounded so unlike anything else. By the twins, I think Alex is referring to himself, as we have discussed until we are blue in the face, there are two Alex’s, the private one and the public one. And as I have spoken with many of you about before, the early image of AM was carefully constructed. I can remember the sheer shock of discovering Alex’s parents were teachers, because they had been presented as chavs, and Alex a boy genius with a god-given talent (which he was, but he also had parents who no doubt had lots of books at home, and also his dad is a music teacher…). So from day one, he was having to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, so we get the twin version of himself.

And adapt the main theme for mandolins? I've conjured up wonderful things The ballad of what could've been Over and out It's been a thrill

This is self explanatory because he has conjured up wonderful things, no doubt about that, but I will touch upon the ‘ballad of what could have been’, shortly. Over and out and it’s been a thrill, unfortunately sounds like he’s finally going to get the exit he wanted in OPP.

I had big ideas, the band were so excited The kind you'd rather not share over the phone But now, the orchestra's got us all surrounded And I cannot for the life of me remember how they go

This to me is the verse that links back to OPP. The word excitement sounds like it is talking about youth, and the phrase, ‘the kind you’d rather not share over the phone’. In this day and age, we mostly communicate via email and text, whereas in the early 2000s, phone would have been the main method of communication. But I don’t think the orchestra is what we think, the orchestra is Alex double speak for the music industry. After all, AM’s career has been far more orchestrated than it is liked to be believed (Mr Winter Wonderland), and the I cannot for the life of me remember how they go, is similar to ‘Forgive Me Man I’ve Lost my Train of Thought’. Alex’s original plans have been overridden by the industry and he has lost sight of his original objectives.

Coordinated release Nationwide festivities We had 'em out of their seats Wavin' their arms and stompin' their feet Some were just hysterical scenes The ballad of what could've been Over and out

This verse is very clever and I do believe it is double speak. Much was made of AM watching the postponed Euros in 2021 while they were recording The Car. For anyone who doesn’t know, England made the semi-final and it looked as for the first time since 1966 we were going to win a major tournament, but we ended up coming fourth (the ballad of what could have been).

However…

I think Alex is talking about Whatever People Say I Am That’s What I’m Not. The release of this album was seismic in the UK, and people went crazy for it (I think it’s still the fastest selling debut LP in UK history). As I said, Alex was being hailed a genius, just an ordinary kid who managed to capture the zeitgeist so eloquently that young people saw him as a man of the people. If they had carried on this way, I don’t know how their careers would have gone. They might not have had the universal success they had (WPSIATWIN is very UK centric), but Alex had made an album doing the thing he loved, creating poetry to music that sounded like The Strokes.

However, by Favourite Worst Nightmare things have changed. Maybe due to the pressure of living a double life, or wanting to express himself more cryptically, the lyrics became more oblique, then of course once Alexa came along, media focus was on his personal life more than his actual talent (look up some old issues of Heat magazine online and you will see what I mean). No album Arctic Monkeys released since WPSIATWIN has ever captured the British imagination like that. By AM - which was their most accomplished album at that point, and launched them globally - a lot of the original British fans saw Alex as a parody of the very people he had criticised at the beginning, and they lost interest, and to them WPSIATWIN AM are a completely different band to SIAS/AM Era.

So, to summarise on the surface Big Ideas is a simple song about Alex writing a grand song but not being able to remember what he has written when the time comes to record it. But under the surface, it is Alex lamenting on his career, and where it went wrong – to a degree. But despite this, it has been a thrill.

Unfortunately, it definitely sounds like a goodbye. Whether it is just AM or the music industry completely, we can only wait and see.,

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #arctic monkeys lyrics #arctic monkeys lyric analysis #the car #whatever people say i am that's what i'm not

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superm4ks · 1 year ago

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Omg this verstappie rewatch is literally gonna be the whole season lmao

Part 1 2016-2018 > Part 2 2019-2022

In 2013, after becoming the World and European KZ class Champion, European OF class Champion, Continental KF class champion, and 3rd place laureate in the World KF class, 15 year old Max Verstappen had turned that years karting scene into a 'one man show' according to Vroomkart International. The title of the piece wasted no time posing what was, admittedly, a very bold question:

Gentlemen, a short view into the 2023 season

Baku, 2023. Ik what ur thinking. 19 wins and ur gonna start wid fucking Baku? And yes 🙂I will, and so shud u 🫵🏽Max lost Baku. The pole, the sprint and the race. Lingered about 3 secs behind checo after the SC, never closed the gap. And guess what, Baku was actually one of the most important races of this season, Maxs own words. Because that inconsistent pace? Those choppy lap times, killing his tires? Max was learning how to setup his car. Rb19 was clearly rb18s big brother, a real sunday beast, faster, more reliable, but a lil sensitive, demanded some hands on attention from his boy. So Max turned Baku into their fp4. U can c it on his onboard, hear him asking for different settings, toggling wid the balance. Those of us who know Max, we kinda suspected what he was up to. But it seemed others didnt. And whatvr max was about to do to these people in Miami bro, it wud be the type of reckoning u read about in the bible.

Miami, 2023. When max qualified p9 cheers echoed across both Americas. After the Baku loss, the slow start to the season, there was hope. Max Verstappen was about to lose the championship lead. People bought into the fairytale and they were loud about it too. They taunted him, booed him and his mechanics in parc ferme. And then Max was p2 by lap 15. Cut thru the field like butter and the whole stint he kept setting purples. Fastest lap after fastest lap. By lap 40 his hards were outpacing fresh mediums on a track u cud fry an egg on. Red bulls strategy for Max required the impossible and that's exactly what Max delivered. Before Miami, Checo was a title contender. After Miami, he was barely a competitor. Max took the 'tire whisperers' ambitions and grinded them into dust in 45 laps or less. It was the race that marked the beginning of the most dominant individual season in Formula 1 history but at its core, in classic Verstappen style, it was a lesson. A very simple one.

Shot by Brook Ward.

Monaco, 2023

- Qualifying Yk who doesn’t give a FUCK about lessons tho, Monaco. Monaco wont be taught by no man. But it’s 2023. This classic immovable object about to meet the most unstoppable force in modern sport history. Max's very first pole in Monaco, and fittingly so, it came out of an all-timer session. One of those saturdays that make u understand why the tax dodging diva of f1 is going absolutely nowhere. Pole switched between Ocon, Yuki, Sharl and Alonso right up until Max did his thing. 2 mins to the checkered flag, it looked like Nando had it locked. 2 untouchable purples, textbook. It wud have been a beautiful moment, a deserved reward for an old dawg who’d kept at it and had a capable car again. Unfortunately for Nando, though, Sennas illegitimate child clocked in that Saturday. He had a bit of a history wid third sectors that once fucked him. But it's 2023, so this wud be the one that made him. Max put 3 tenths on Alonso's head in one of the shortest, most technical corners of the entire calendar. F1's 'sunday' driver by excellence, the one stop pacemaker, the metronome, the endurance machine, proved that he was all that and also, in fact, the type of elite qualifier who can write his signature on the walls of Monte Carlo.

- Race Monaco is all about Saturday obvi but imo this years race is also worth watching because its actually kind of a banger wid mixed conditions, insane strategies and because this is a verstappie rewatch, u get to c Max at his best: in a chaotic packed field under the rain.

Canada, 2023. Speaking of rain masters. Senna's legend has been clinging to Max from the very first time he traumatized wet cat Rosberg in Brazil in 2016 but it was this year, in Canada, wid Nando and Lewis by his side, the guys who were also there, who saw it happen too, that Max finally matched Senna's win tally. 41. It was a perfect weekend, a testament to the talent that allowed a 26 year old to overtake Ayrton Senna in the record book, and it began, as if in tribute, wid a soaking wet qualifying. Max's pole lap was one second faster than the rest of the grid. One full second. If ur a Nando or a Lewis fan, I wud definitely give it sunday a watch as well because old gays were definitely out there. Also we got this. What yall know about this .

Shot from Nurphoto.

Lemme tell u something rn: Ur looking at 12 world championships, 189 wins, and a 14 year old gap from youngest to oldest. You're looking at statistically, the most successful driver of all time, the guy whose racecraft still seen by many as the finest this sport has ever seen, and a kid who's been sitting between them since he was 17 years old. The same kid who, a few racers later, broke records that existed long before the other two were even born. Yk, Lewis said it better than I ever cud, 'this is quite an iconic top 3'.

Austria, 2023. Why are u a Verstappen fan? U ever been asked that question. Ik i have. 😐 Lots of possible answers. To me Austria has all of them. In Canada, Checo barely made the finish line while Max pushed rbr to their 100th team victory and ((unofficially)) began his chase of the Vettel record. Mind u the mf wont admit that’s what he’s doing, but it is. Him, GP, the whole team. They want it. But we'll get to that. Max is a hunter, and his boy car is the best hound of his career so far. Together, they’d caught the scent. Races like Australia, Spain, Monaco, Canada, they showed it was possible. His management was getting Schumacher shouts, his qualifying was getting Senna's. Clarks proficiency. 2023 can be understood as the result of Max's life long pursuit of perfection, the crowning point of his hard work, the realization of all his potential, that prodigal nature that had been so obvious for so long, finally, entering its prime wid a car that can make history. And yet. AND YET. max has something that all those other legendary mfs lack. Something that is deeply, deeply Max’s. Free practice 1 in Austria and that talented, beautiful creature of God was ready to send it all to hell to make a POINT. Austria was a sprint this year, so already you've pissed him off. During fp1, Lewis impeded Max like once.

((And listen

Lewis saw that boy enter the paddock and immediately called security and along wid seb vettel and raikkonen launched a class action lawsuit against him on the grounds of a) fuck b) them kids. Then 6 years later Lewis and that now grown ass man spent a whole legendary season trying to kill each other. U c how this relationship may have some residue of . lets say. conflict.))

So Lewis impeded Max in fp1 and Max's raytheon hamilton-calibrated sensors activated and he did nothing less but the exact same thing in sprint qualifying. Blocked old mans flying lap. Lewis is limping thru this weekend, mind u, like it’s almost sad. It’s kinda elderly abuse. THEN, the actual sprint. Again, Austria is red bull's home turf. packed wid red bull fans. The car is a rocket, they're on a streak, lots of good photo ops for the team. It started raining. Even better. Lights out, and Checo took the lead first and in the process like . squeezed Max a lil bit. Pushed him on the grass. U can guess what happened next. 😐😐😐😐To answer that first question and to quote somebody who knows him, Max is Max. No matter where, how, against who. Wid a rocketship, wid a hole in his car, winning, losing, fighting for the lead against Lewis Hamilton, fighting for sixth against baby schumi, refusing to comply wid team orders against sainz, scolding danny ric about discipline, waiting 7 months to deliver his justice in brazil, calling russell a dickhead in Baku, whether in front of 300 000 haters in Silverstone of half a million fans in Spielberg, he'll do what he thinks is right. Thats the kind of mf that wins constructors all by himself. 575 points, on his own. Over 1000 laps lead. Max Verstappen has not succeeded in f1 despite his character, but because of it. Because when Checo squeezed him at the start of a stupid fucking sprint that wont make a dent in his records or his lead, Max collected his car and lunged thru the inside line like the title wud be decided in the next turn. He was willing to send himself, checo, and a goddamn haas to hell to remain at the front. And that’s why I'm a fan.

Zandvoort, 2023. 9 consecutive wins. A race that u feel in ur stomach because you know what it means. The sheer size of the accomplishment. That word ringing in everybodys ears since Miami. Inevitable. inevitable. Up until it happened, and then obvi Monza wid the perfect 10, nobody really wanted to believe it. seb's 9 was one of those things held sacred and hallowed by the sport. Like Schumachers points in a season, Ascaris win percentage, Clarks laps lead, and Hamiltons consecutive podiums. Sacred things. And in 2023, the nonbeliever broke them all. Grasped and squeezed wid his very cynical hands. They’re his now. No one else’s. What he did, no one else can do. Max is always outstanding in Zandvoort tbh, thats his track, his fans, his weather. But this years quali was particularly emblematic of the gap to the rest of the grid , and his teammate especially. 1.7s faster than checo. The race was just as impressive. Rain hit early on, complete chaos, and while everybody scrambled to choose the right tires, GP was in Max’s ear, calm as ever, 'it’s up to you'. It really was. It always was.

Zandvoort, 2023. > Monza, 2023.

Japan, 2023. Red Bulls factory crowning weekend. Coming out a disaster Singapore, yet another statement win. Singapore had showed what it took to slow down Verstappen in 2023: not just the wrong setup, but the wrong strategy too. As we'll c in Texas, like we've seen in 2016, 2019, 2020, a machine off the pace alone wont stop Max from winning races. In Suzuka, rocky was back into his operational window, and Max proved exactly who was it that singlehandedly delivered the constructors championship. One of those classic Max weekends. 20 drivers on track but 2 different leagues and he's on his own. Wid a 177 point lead over his teammate, yet another record broken, biggest point gap between 1st and 2nd. ((In the end, the margin was 290)). Max names Suzuka as his most satisfying pole lap of the season. Bro put half a second on the grid in one go.

COTA, 2023. just something in the Americas ((me)) that unlocks the extra prodigal gene in this mf. Talent of the century? Put his ass in North America we can stretch that shit to the millennium idc idc . Miami, Texas, Brazil, Mexico, and now Vegas, to me these are cornerstones of Verstappen excellence. Max holds the record for most wins in a single geographical location over one season. ((Of course he does)) 10 consecutive wins in NA, across state lines, country borders, wid different conditions, tracks, circuits, tires, formats, setups. This years’ Austin GAG? Apparently they didn’t set the tarmac right. track was a bumpy mess. Max struggled from the start wid braking issues and tire wear, but he kept his head cool because he knew he had the basics. There was once a time before the rb19 , when all he had was a cap and 1 year of open wheel experience, and his 18 year old self put on a clinic against a 30 year old world champion on how to defend on old faulty rubber. That’s exactly what Max did in Cota. Bro was able to make up for aerodynamic loss wid nothing but pedal and wheel work. Do not talk to him during braking. Do not fucking talk to him during braking. That’s all Max asked. 50th win. Offically 3rd OAT, behind Vettel, Hamilton and Schumacher. ((He’s now alone in 3rd OAT, wid 53 wins.)). He’s 26. After Merc and Ferrari were proclaimed ‘illegal’ what truly shocked me wasn’t that they tried to cheat, but that they wud try to pull that shit against this Verstappen, in this car, in 2023. They lowered their floors for smoother suspensions to fight Adrian Neweys Frankenstein monster but the real machine was sitting right behind the wheel. And he won. Actually, he mollywhooped those bitches. Not the floor, not the wings, just a damn good racing driver. Good luck next time.

Qatar gp, 2023. Dutch man allergic to winning world championships in a normal way, millions left emotionally berated every year begging for the sweet release of ted kravitzs voice. No I’m jk but actually tell me why this fool cud not have waited for the race to clinch it. Bro had the title confirmed by a sprint where he finished SECOND. As a verstappie, imma tell u to watch this because it’s like. get out of my face rn I love you so much I’m so happy for u also that helmet is so pretty. In Qatar, Max became 1 of 5 drivers who won back to back to back world championships. After the year 2000, 1 of 3. Along wid the biggest championship margin in the most successful season of all time, well. 1 of 1.

Las Vegas, 2023. ummm ok ik this may SHOCK u but he wasn’t a fan. Max spent the whole season bitching about Vegas and breaking records and threatening retirement like that’s literally a fair description of events. Just very verstappen and migraine inducing type of shit. But yes, Vegas. Vegas held no old school appeal whatsoever. And he was right about some things. He never berated the circuit itself, the quality of the racing, just the show around it. U shud build for the track, not around it. It’s not that difficult to understand, or even that unpopular. But Max forgot about one important thing that wud prolly hurt his cause. He has never landed on US soil and not served. The plot armor wud simply never let my baddie have her AHA!!!!moment in Nevada. So I want u to open that cringe FUCKING compilation Sunday stream of the Vegas gp and c what happens when a sleep deprived verstappen and his so called ‘dominant’ ‘untouchable’ ‘unbeatable’ ‘rocket ship’ are released on a frozen track wid barely any data because one of the potholes burst and cut practices into 10 mins. Bitch what happens is good fucking f1 😭😭😭 Some real formula uno cabron 😭😭 Max retakes the lead at the start, overcooks his frozen tires, pushes sharl off, gets a penalty, serves his penalty, comes back wid gods wrath emanating from his fugly white helmet, obliterates the gap to first and Russell along wid it ((🫡)) passes both cars in front in one slick veteran move and sinks his teeth into p1 for the remaining 13 laps. And wins. Maybe not his most characteristic win, but def the funniest one. Stupid ass even sang Elvis. That’s an f1 driver bitch. He can’t trick me.

Here we are. Abu Dhabi. Breathe out. Red Bull won constructors in Japan, Max won the drivers championship in Qatar. It all started wid a lesson, remember? Max was a good teacher. He spent 8 months making sure we learned. Did you?

By Abu Dhabi, 2023, Max had officially set 20 new records, including the record for most records broken in a season by a single driver. 5 of those achievements had already been set in 2022, just upgraded in 2023: most wins in a season, most podiums in a season, most consecutive wins from pole, most hat tricks in a season, and most consecutive top two finishes in history. 3 of his achievements, however, kept him on the hunt until the very last lap: 3rd most wins of all time, over a 1000 laps lead, and the highest percentage of wins in the sports history. Max got them all. He’s now, statistically, the sole protagonist of the most dominant season in f1, and f1’s 3rd most successful driver, behind Schumacher and Hamilton. Max won 19 out of 22 races. 10 of those wins were consecutive. Right now, he’s already on another streak. 3 more wins and he matches his own record. 4 and he resets the book forever. What Max did wid the rb19 needs to be watched again and again and again, because it’ll be years. YEARS .Until we begin to learn how to truly appreciate it. This is just my humble attempt.

In Abu Dhabi, the job was done wid a series of incredible defensive moves that completely shut the door on sharl. No flashy overtakes, no heroics on the inside line. Just strong classic defending. Sharls attack was dealt wid, nullified, the gap was built, set and managed, and Max saw the fireworks 17 seconds earlier than the rest. In 2023, Max was untouchable by all but one. The car he called ‘rocky’. The only car, to this day, according to the man himself, that ever saw him smile before he crossed the finish line. That ever made him happy before it made him a winner.

You tell me.

#ask #verstappie rewatch #GUYS ODFJKGLFKJD I FORGOTTTT HAPPY HOLIDAYS IM SORRYYY #💕💘🦁💞💕💘🫡#max verstappen #2023 season #I’m so dead bro I’m so beat I’m sorry #wife yelling at me as we speak i got cat vomit all over my sweater #it’s been a Time yall #long post #f1

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sparrowrye · 4 months ago

Text

The Archivist's Oath || Chapter 12: deep, dark, and desirable

Synopsis: Vox makes an interesting proposal

Master List

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

The temperature in the room dropped. "So," Vox's voice was smooth but with an edge to it, "tell me about your bunker? Is it the exact same as our old Archivist?" He guided—pushed—me to the desk filled with loose metals and strange objects I didn't understand.

"I wouldn't know," I answered calmly. "I've never seen another bunker. Just mine."

He lifted his eyebrows. "Really? Then how'd you become an Archivist?" He leaned his hip against the counter and cross his arms over his chest.

My words were careful and deliberate. "I was raised as one. I grew up reciting my oath."

"How many people were in the bunker? Rumors say it could sustain ten people."

"Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore. All the technology died well before."

He hummed in response with a nod of his head, then stared off into the distance to think about his next question. It gave me time to look around the little room. I could see old batteries, fans, wires, and even computers that were working. This guy...he was an inventor.

"Al said he found you alone." Vox pulled my attention back to him. The use of his nickname wasn't lost on me. "Must've been a tough life. Spending your existence with dusty old books, preserving ancient knowledge for a future you can't even imagine...seems rather lonely. No one to share those heavy secrets with?"

I knew the coming implication. "It's my family's legacy. I wasn't very keen on sharing it."

Vox chuckled and leaned a hand on the counter. "And now here you are, sharing it. With Alastor no less. How's he been handling things with you? Everyone knows he's not the patient type."

I swallowed, reading well into what he was trying to learn. "He...has his ways. But...I think he understands why I need to take things slow." Despite Alastor's transgressions towards me, I wasn't keen on painting a bad picture of him, especially considering the warning he gave me beforehand.

"Taking it slow..." Vox repeated. He straightened up and brushed a blue claw along my hair. "You must be the first person to ever slow him down. Impressive, really. But I wonder what else you're good at...influencing."

I stepped back, eyes falling to the floor. "I-It's just the nature of the work. Texts get old and worn out. They have to be handled carefully and translating an Old World language is really complex. It's just more—"

"Of course—" he cut me off, "—I can't help but wonder if there's something else to it. Al is a determined man, but is it the work that's slowing him down or is he...distracted." He touched the edge of my jaw and pulled it up. It was then I realized his blue claws were actually metal.

Every single muscle in my body turned to stone as he leaned in close to my ear. "It's quite a feat to have a man, such as Alastor, so wrapped around your pretty finger. But you're not here because Al couldn't find someone to guard you. You're here because of your lack of progress."

He pulled away to look at my stunned expression. His smile wasn't as sharp as Alastor's but it made my skin crawl nonetheless. "...What?"

"Oh, he hasn't told you?" He stepped backwards and sat on a stool by his desk, resting his chin in his hand.

"Told me what?"

"I originally asked to have you in my district. I've got all kinds of Old World tech that just needs quick translations. Tech that could make life easier and more comfortable for the people of Pentagram city. And tech that could actually save it."

I waited for him to go on. The puzzle pieces were on the table and now I was putting them together.

"But everyone believed that Al, of all people, could break an Archivst the fastest." Vox tilted his head further and looked me up and down. "Until he failed to produce results."

I shifted my weight between my feet. My legs were on the verge of visibly shaking.

Vox's smile widened. "For someone who grew up reading Old World language, you're really bad at it."

"My pacing is the same as when I was in the bunker." I hated the way my voice began to shake. "It's very hard to read it and translate it into our language. There's so many factors at play, not to mention some pages are really worn and I have to—"

"Al may be willing to give you time," he interrupted again, "but I am far too excited to have so many of my questions finally answered. And...well...I prefer a more hands on approach." He tapped his claws on the counter to enunciate his point.

He suddenly stood and fixed his shirt. "We've only got a few a days together. And I'm sure you know this will go by much faster and smoother if you cooperate. For now, I'll show you where you'll be staying."

I followed him down the short hallway to an empty room. It had a small bed, a moldy desk, and a closet that looked like it was falling apart.

"I'll be back to take you to dinner. You can start your work tonight."

Then he shut and locked the door.

~*~

I found myself having less of a moral and ethical debate regarding the translations Vox asked of me. They were simple objects with directions on the back that posed no real threat to Humanity's future. At least, I thought so.

Some of the objects were things like a mechanical box to reheat food, a charger cable, a speaker, and a thermal scope among other things. I took my time on each, writing on the small pieces of paper he gave me and pretending it was difficult to read some of it. Vox liked to ask similar questions as Alastor did about the art of translating. I was grateful translating languages wasn't a widely known skill because I was able to convince them it was far more difficult than in actuality.

Vox sat next to me tinkering on a device while I translated a manual. He had a magnifying glass on a movable stand to help him see the smaller things, such as wires and tiny screws. He was picking apart a solar panel from a solar powered lantern. He was deathly quiet but obviously watching me whenever he took a break.

I, on the other hand, was having a much harder time with the manual he had given me. The cover showed two little mechanical orbs on the front. The title said "Airpods" and the first few pages told me they were wireless headphones.

The problem, however, were the immense amount of words I didn't understand. I usually had a dictionary with me but I wondered if these obviously coined terms would be in it. It made the translation a challenge to decipher and I didn't bother to write any of it down yet, trying to read through it to get a better grasp on how it worked. It would also allow me to gauge what I should and shouldn't translate.

"You've been quiet, Archivist," Vox broke the silence. "Very focused. Maybe something Alastor would find interesting that you don't want to tell him?"

I ignored the jibe, looking at him with a neutral, rather bored expression. I had learned rather quickly that Vox enjoyed drawing out my emotions, whether that be scared, frustrated, or even curious.

"It's nothing Alastor would care about," I said with a sigh, turning the page. "It's just a user guide. It doesn't talk about the mechanics of it at all."

"I'm surprised you're still reading it, then." He went back to his solar panel. There had been numerous guides and manuals Vox had provided that were practically useless to him, so he didn't ask me to translate them.

"It just...amazes me that our ancestors were able to create such incredible objects, but they weren't able to create anything on a large enough scale to save them. But then again," I flipped past two worn out pages, "the damage had already been done generations before."

"What do you mean?"

Something pleasant flickered in my chest. "Well, it wasn't just one big catastrophic event. The world had been slowly dying and society was just...a mess. No technological advancement could save a race that couldn't even come together to save itself. Their sense of community...it just wasn't there."

Vox was quiet for a moment. He had stopped working to look at me but my eyes were on the manual. It seemed his usual air of smugness and authority were amiss today. "I wasn't expecting an Archivist to have that spark. A spark like mine about...fixing the world."

I looked up, meeting his gaze that wasn't sharp or invasive, and saw an opportunity. "You mentioned before that you just started tinkering with Old World tech. What got you into it? Was it plain curiosity or something more?"

Vox saw right through my guise but, not to my surprise, went along with it. "Curiosity, sure. I mean you have to have it if you're going to spend hours in a metal box trying to fix broken things. But...it has always been something more."

I was silent so he would continue. I didn't even close the manual for fear of drawing his attention away from the memory.

"I lived on the outskirts of the community here. Back when it wasn't a city. I was...well, I didn't always get along with everyone. I tried but...I just wasn't interested in the things everyone else liked. I was always bored. Once I found Old World objects, not even tech necessarily, but just objects. Once I found those and started piecing Humanity's past together, nothing could interest me.

"And then...one day..." He took a breath and looked down at his device. "One day a storm caused a landslide. I don't remember why I wasn't at home but...my parents were. And they didn't make it."

The silence hung thickly in the air. I saw the way his fingers dug into his sleeve. Carefully, I said softly, "That must've been awful to experience."

"Yeah well...most people lose a parent or two when they're young. My neighbors took me in and tried to get me to eat but nothing worked. Then," he laughed to himself, "fucking Alastor came by with a radio. He said he found it and thought it might interest me. I hadn't found anything new in the past month so it was like candy. I started eating again and obsessed over that thing."

"So then...you're the inventor of the radio."

"Eh," he bobbed his hand in the air, "I didn't invent the thing but I did fix it. I learned about electricity and power but the thing was just static. A horrible constant noise of nothing. I thought I had botched it. But then...Alastor had gone out on one of his expeditions and said a community was using radios to talk to another community. It was the first one we absorbed since Lucifer came into power. I learned how the radios worked from those communities and we started building the radio towers.

"Alastor...he uh...well, he supported me," Vox continued. "He convinced Lucifer to let him build towers in regions we hadn't absorbed communities yet. He spread it so far out and...well, you know the rest." He began poking at the small wires again.

"So...Alastor saved you in a way."

Vox shrugged. "Eh. The radio was my first big project and I felt like I was actually contributing to the community again. He was there to convince Lucifer to start building the Technology District and...one thing led to another."

I was piecing bits of their history together in my big puzzle. "This whole district...you built it from the ground up?"

He casted a smile my way. "Quite literally. The communities we absorbed had their own little secrets that we learned. I learned how to mine for resources and how to melt them into something useful. It always amazed me what knowledge Humanity has managed to hold onto."

This city was fairly new, that much I had gathered, but it seemed like the kind that should've existed for generations. Somehow they had managed to do it in less than the span of my lifetime. And it all came from curiosity and survival. They had taken the information from smaller communities and put it to use for a greater good.

But no. I had seen glances of the workers in Vox's district. They were just that: workers. They didn't live or enjoy life. They were there as physical labor and I had a feeling that's where most communities ended up.

"Sounds like you and Alastor were close," I broached the topic carefully, "but not so much anymore."

He gave a dry chuckle. "I suppose you could say that. We were just two lost souls trying to make a difference in a world that didn't give a damn. But things changed. They always do. And this Old World tech? It never does. Everything's consistent and you just have to be willing to go the distance to piece it together."

"What uh...what happened between you two?"

Just like that, the walls went back up. He lolled his head to the side with a smile and said, "That's not a story for you, Archivist. Some things are better left buried."

Sensing the closed door, I decided not to push. I went back to the manual and flipped the page. "Thanks for telling me. About your parents and everything. I know...that it's difficult to keep living without them."

Silence hung over our heads, his eyes not yet leaving me. It felt like he was searching for something, or maybe for something else to say. In the end, he turned back to the solar panel with a simple, "You're welcome."

~*~

I wondered when Alastor would return. I was feeling a strange mix of emotions about it. On one hand, I hated being kept in a dark, damp place with no access to sunlight; and Vox made me feel on edge most of the time. On the other hand, I was nervous to go back to that stuffy attic and forced to play Alastor's mind games.

However, I still had at least a day left to prod Vox for information. He had given me far more information that Alastor ever let slip. Not to mention, translating the simple direction tags on old tech wasn't complex or unethical. He seemed pleased with my progress whereas Alastor was never satisfied.

He had explained that his stronghold was held within an Old World cargo ship. It instantly made sense how he came across so many random items and so much technology. At one point he let me wander around for awhile. I let my hands glide over the walls as I pictured men and women walking around to complete their tasks. To think we had once been able to sail huge bodies of water in metal boats.

"So, do you mind if I ask a question?" Vox asked at breakfast. We were sitting at an old table in a very old, metal room.

The fact that he asked me for permission made me wary, but curious. "Sure," I answered, not looking up from my plate. We were sitting in the kitchen and dining quarters of the ship. Eggs, bread, and cheese were the staple breakfast food in all districts. The leather of the comfy seat sank and tore at random places to reveal the ancient cushion that didn't quite work anymore.

"Alastor never struck me as the type to be kind to strangers. And yet rumor around the city is that you two shared a moment at your old bunker."

My hand stilled and I glanced up to meet his penetrating stare. It was rare for him to bring up Alastor directly, especially in a context that wasn't revolving around their hatred or competition for one another. It brought up the several moments Al and I had shared, but I stuffed those down. "He was different. Less of the Radio Demon, I suppose."

His lips curled into a smile as if I had confirmed something for him. "Really? More uh...more human maybe?"

I took a bite of eggs to push silence. Where was he trying to go with this? "Yeah. He was less intimidating because he was bleeding all over my floor."

He chuckled and leaned forward on the table. "It seems the time spent away from his radio and fans allowed him to drop his mask for once. You must've pulled out a side of him that very few actually get to see."

The eggs felt chewy in my mouth. There was something in the way Vox spoke that hinted at an ulterior motive. He was tricky, like Alastor, but a little more obvious about it. And yet, I still couldn't figure out what he was trying to get at.

"I don't really think that was another side of him. I think that was just a man who was a victim to circumstance. He nearly died, was sick because of it, and bored out of his mind."

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit, dear Archivist. Alastor has hit his lows before but he's never revealed a softer side. His walls are impenetrable. And yet...you managed to break through them."

I sighed and leaned back, placing my fork down. "What are you getting at, Vox?"

"You clearly have a talent for more than just books. You can soften even the hardest hearts and make them...connect with you through vulnerability."

I was growing more concerned with every word. He made it sound like I had manipulated Alastor, not the other way around; as if I was stringing him along with some hidden agenda.

"But Al refuses to see that," Vox went on. "He keeps burying those feelings and pushing you to the brink of insanity to prove you're nothing more than a pawn in his game."

My stared hardened. "What is your point?"

"My point—" he stood from his side of the table and sat right beside me, "—is that your worth is seen here. You've made incredible progress and answered so many of my dying questions. And I've seen the way you appreciate the Old World. So many people laugh at it and even pretend it didn't happen. But you..."

He placed his hand on top of mine and it took everything in me not to pull it free. "You appreciate it. Not just your books and their knowledge, but the things they've created. You appreciate my work, even if you don't want to admit it."

My throat was uncomfortably dry. My feet were rooted to the floor but my torso was leaning away from him. It was hard to hear his words over the sound of my heart drumming.

"You think you don't have a choice over your life, and Alastor has done well to make you think that, but...you do. You can choose to stay here. To work alongside me. The things you would translate...you would make this city come alive and pull the people out of poverty. And..."

His eyes went to our hands. He slowly moved up my arm, light as a feather, until he reached my shoulder, briefly removing it so he could tuck my hair behind my ear. I felt unnaturally hot.

"You could stay with someone who values your independence. Someone who could give you access to all the Old World information we've been collecting for years. Someone...who may feel just as lonely as you."

My mouth hung open, unable to form words. My limbs felt heavy and stuck in place. He was offering something dangerously close to freedom. I could play into it. The more I cooperated with him, the more freedom I would have. The more freedom I had, the easier it would be to make my escape. Maybe even with my archive.

And yet...there was a feeling I couldn't describe. A feeling that this...just wasn't right. A feeling that said I was being lured straight into a trap all decorated in gold and empty promises.

"Think about it," Vox said, as his hand trailed down my shoulder. He stood and left the room without another word.

I stared at the empty space where he had been. My heart wasn't slowing down. My blood felt cold and my skin scalding hot. I thought I was breaking out in hives from where he had touched me.

I fisted my shirt as I fought the rising panic. I pressed the pads of my fingers into the cold table and counted my breaths, goosebumps running along my arms.

This was bad. This was very bad.

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

Author's Note:

Happy birthday Demi Demons! I wonder what's in store for us next time 😏

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

Taglist:

@sirens-and-moonflowers @papas-ghoulette @eris-norwega

#demi demon #archivists oath #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox

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lumoonist · 5 months ago

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LU boys playing the Sims 4

I thought of some cute headcanons while I was playing the game :D

Time: makes himself and Malon into the game, to go live in Heneford-on-Bagley in a cottage home. Big enough space to have a little farm on the lot, ofc buying a horse and naming it Epona.

Twilight: lives in Chestnut Ridge, but makes his sim a werewolf because he lost a bet. The werewolf is literally just his wolf form lmao- gives himself a lot of dogs and pets. He's somehow able to look after all of them.

Warriors: bro takes 10+ hours making himself in the sims, only to not even play that much of the other parts of the game. But when he does, that man is flirting with everyone shamelessly. Keeps moving because he doesn't know where to put his sim. BECOMES A SIMFLUENCER.

Wind: has no idea what he's doing, doesn't really bother with making a sim. He lives in Sulani, it's the closest that reminds him of home. With the ocean and little islands, makes his grandmother and younger sister. His grandmother almost died in the game and he BEGGED one of the guys to make her immortal.

Wild: removing the ladder to kill your sim? Nah, lock a sim with a gluttony trait in a room filled with food paintings with windows showing fridges they can't access. He just put his sims in Willow Creek, has probably burned down the home multiple times.

Legend: also lives in Sulani he just wants to be closer with Marin. Man gets rich first and the fastest out of all the Links, has several homes and knows a lot of the cheats. Once deleted Warriors' save file after bickering one day. It was worth it. But is invested in the Sims 4 lore.

Four: has multiple mods, but he's really invested into the Sims 4 lore as well. Like what the hell happened to Bella Goth and her family?STRANGERVILLE AS A WHOLE. He doesn't know who did it, but someone edited his sim to be a child so that the height would be 'accurate.' Created 4 sims of the different colours, lives in Glimmerbrook. Has his sim get an online business, a lot of woodwork items being sold and whatever else you can make in the sims.

Hyrule: worst luck with cooking, actually plays the game normally. Lost count of how many times his home has almost burnt down. Makes his sim into a wizard, quickly becoming a master at magic. He thought about living in Oasis Springs but went with Brindleton Bay.

Sky: WANTS TO PLAY IT CONSTANTLY WITH HIS ZELDA. Made each other as accurately as possible, Sky was so worried about messing Zelda up when he was making her. He also added in Fi but it comes out a bit awkward looking. There isn't a sims world that reminds him of home, but decided to put his sims in Tartosa. Makes a lot of wood objects to sell while Zelda becomes a musician in the game.

#linked universe #lu time #the sims 4 #lu twilight #lu wind #lu legend #lu warriors #lu sky #lu wild #lu four #lu hyrule #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda #lu headcanons #twilight princess link #ocarina of time link #skyward sword link #hyrule warriors #botw link

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marveldcnerdys · 5 months ago

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The Unmatched Legacy of Wally West: The Flash Who Redefined Speed

Wally West, a pivotal figure in the DC Comics universe, has become one of the most iconic characters associated with the mantle of The Flash. His journey from Kid Flash to the Scarlet Speedster has been marked by personal growth, heroism, and an emotional depth that has captivated readers for decades.

Origins and Transformation

Wally West made his first appearance in The Flash #110 (1959), created by John Broome and Carmine Infantino. Originally introduced as the nephew of Iris West and a devoted fan of Barry Allen, Wally's life changed forever when a freak accident replicated the event that gave Barry his speedster abilities. This transformed Wally into Kid Flash, a youthful sidekick who quickly earned a reputation for his courage and heart.

However, Wally's most significant transformation occurred during the events of Crisis on Infinite Earths (1985-1986). When Barry Allen sacrificed himself to save the universe, Wally took up the mantle of The Flash, stepping into his mentor's shoes and becoming the primary speedster of the DC Universe.

Character Development and Key Storylines

Wally West's tenure as The Flash is often celebrated for its deep storytelling and character evolution. Writers such as Mark Waid and Geoff Johns played crucial roles in shaping Wally into a hero who not only honored Barry's legacy but also forged his own identity.

Born to Run

Mark Waid's Born to Run redefined Wally's origin story, delving deeper into his early days as Kid Flash and his admiration for Barry. This arc explored Wally's initial struggles with his powers and his growth into a confident hero.

The Return of Barry Allen

This fan-favorite arc challenged Wally's self-doubt as he faced the return of his mentor—or so it seemed. Ultimately, Wally had to prove his worth as the one true Flash, solidifying his place as the fastest man alive.

Terminal Velocity

A groundbreaking storyline that introduced the Speed Force, Terminal Velocity saw Wally pushing his powers to new heights while training a new generation of speedsters. This arc expanded the mythology of speed in the DC Universe and emphasized Wally's role as a mentor.

Powers and Abilities

Wally West is often regarded as the fastest Flash in DC Comics history. His connection to the Speed Force allows him to achieve feats far beyond his predecessors, including:

Infinite Speed: Wally can move at speeds exceeding the speed of light, effectively manipulating time and space.

Speed Force Mastery: He has a unique connection to the Speed Force, enabling him to share speed with others and access abilities like phasing through objects.

Supercharged Healing: Wally can rapidly heal from injuries due to his accelerated cellular regeneration.

Relationships and Team Dynamics

Wally West's character is defined not just by his speed but by his relationships. His bond with Linda Park, a journalist who became his wife, is central to his narrative, providing emotional depth and motivation.

As a core member of the Teen Titans and later the Justice League, Wally's dynamic with other heroes like Nightwing, Kyle Rayner, and Donna Troy has showcased his growth as both a leader and a loyal friend.

Legacy and Influence

Wally West's impact on the DC Universe is profound. His stories have inspired countless adaptations in animated series like Justice League Unlimited and Young Justice. His tenure as The Flash set a benchmark for legacy heroes, demonstrating how sidekicks can evolve into leading figures.

Conclusion

Wally West's journey from Kid Flash to the fastest man alive has cemented his place as a beloved icon in comic book history. His emotional depth, heroic spirit, and record-breaking speed continue to captivate fans, ensuring his legacy as The Flash endures for generations to come.

#dc #dc characters #dc comics #the flash #wally west #barry allen

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inbabylontheywept · 1 year ago

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Peace, if not forgiveness.

The Black Knight knelt at the end of his bridge. One arm hung useless at his side, crooked and bloody. There was something ragged in his breathing that gave away another injury - cracked a rib or punctured a lung. He was broken, but the breaking had just given him more jagged edges to cut with.

Like flint. Like bone. Like volcanic glass, glittering in the sun.

He rose to his feet as Akkis approached, but he did not stop the murmuring under his breath. He held up a hand to ask for patience as he finished whatever ritual he’d started.

If Akkis was born to be a fighter, he’d have simply started then. But before the war had started, he’d been a scholar. He was cursed with curiosity. Beyond that, he also knew he was an hour ahead of the main force, and that his only objective was to take the bridge. So instead of blitzing, he paused, let the human finish, then asked a question:

“What was that?”

“A prayer,” the knight said. “That the wicked will find peace if not forgiveness.”

“You’d pray for me?” Akkis asked, strangely touched.

“No,” the knight replied. “Me.”

Then he hoisted his bastard sword up with one hand and in one vicious swing, flung an arc of blood across the bridge. The fastest droplets almost made it to Akkis before hitting the dirt.

Akkis tried to see the knight’s gaze, but his face was inscrutable under the helm. The only thing he could feel was the palpable aura of hatred. Two eyes met the mask for almost a minute before the elf turned back. He walked carefully away, fading back into the woods, strangely afraid of the man on the bridge.

He could always pretend he got lost in a thicket somewhere. Let someone else test the monster on the bridge. Glory was nice, but living was nicer.

It wasn’t until he was sure that the elf was truly gone that the black knight fell back to his knees.

The real warrior was two leagues away, leading a charge. The man on the bridge, the man in the armor was not The Black Knight - he was Errol, the miner. His ragged breathing was black lung, and the limp arm was a wound that came from a misplaced swing of a sledgehammer. The blood was his own, drawn to intimidate. He knew that eventually, he’d meet a scout that would call his bluff. That by the evening he was going to die, skewered on an elven blade. But for every minute that he could hold this bridge, for every scout he could drive away, he was buying time for another score of his neighbors to escape into the hills. He took a deep breath, and winced at the way it burned in his dust-scalded lungs.

Living had been nice, but this was better.

#hfy #fantasy #flash fiction #I guess I'm doing two warm ups today?#Fun times #Still can't think of a longer piece but at least I can say I practiced writing today #and this was fun too

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youremyheaven · 11 months ago

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with that Venusian man 👨 hmm 👀👀 spill the tea girl

Not the 33yr old, this is the friend from a few nights ago 😜 whose arms I liked 🤭😩

They're both Bharani Moon tho 😌 which is my favourite among the Venus naks 😌😌😌 so I do feel like God's favourite rn lmao 🤪

Idk why I never felt this way about him before but looking at his pictures and talking to him, didn't make me feel much , like he's objectively good looking, a veryyyy handsome man, 6'2 😩😩 (the 33yr old is 5'7 max 😔) BROAD ASF SHOULDERS, BIG ARMS, but I was never attracted to him. He has a very sweetie personality too, he has Mercury in Purvabhadrapada atmakaraka and lots of Jupiter in his navamsa chart and he feels veryyy Jupiterean, which according to Claire's video is the nice guy you friendzone etc which is what I did too 😜🤭🤭but OH MY GODDDDDD THE MAN IS DEMONICCCC IN BED 😩😩😩😩😩

He has a veryyyy masculine presence and I love love love love LOVE his body 😩😩😩 he's so bulky and so big, I just get butterflies looking at him 😍😍

So we agreed to book a hotel room that you can rent for a couple of hours??? BEST DECISION IVE EVER MADE 😩😩😩

and from the minute he picked me up, I just had to have him inside me one way or another like 😭😭😭 he's SOOO manly, that I just WANT to get on my knees for him 😭😭😭 I can't believe I'm saying this out loud 😭😭

He's so affectionate and SOOOO gentlemanly, like DAMN he was raised right ✨ he prioritizes foreplay and spends a lot of time on my body, just kissing me all over, I remember when we were friends, he'd casually point to the moles on my arms and say shit like "would be nice playing connect the dots with these 😏" but I just saw him as a friend and I flirt with all my friends male and female and vice versa so i didn't think too much of it but tonight 😩😩😭 as he took my pants off, he saw the mole on my upper thigh and he was like "here's one I haven't seen before 😈" (and all of today, his voice has been deeper and more 🥵🥵 usually he sounds all 😃😊😃☀️🌸 but today he sounded so 😈🥵😈 even tho he was just talking about normal shit) and then he kissed it and licked it 🥵🥵down until he reached yk where 🙈 and BOYS' GOT THAT TONGUE TECHNOLOGY 😩😩😩I was shook 😳😳😳too stunned to speak 🙊😳😳😳😳I was physically glitching 😭 i literally had to beg him to just put it in because I cannot take it anymore 😭😭 and the wayyyy he grabbed my legs closer to him 😩😩😩we fcked thrice 🙈🙈🙈🙈 he only had one condom 💀💀💀 and y'all should always use protection when you have sex but when he pulled out and jizzed on my stomach, I lost my mind, idk it was so hot 🙈🥵

And just the way he holds me, touches me etc it makes me feel 😩😩😩

I'm sorry to share such filth detail with y'all but I don't have friends I can share any of this with (so instead I'm telling thousands of strangers lmao 😭) idk why I'm giving such a blow by blow account of this but honestly it was suchhh a good experience 🙈🙈🙈

We were just lying down talking between rounds and we have such a good bond y'all it's so funny 😭😭 like we're talking about random shit, he was asking me about stuff and I was telling him and he was smiling kissing my body as he's listening and then he holds my face and says "you know this is pillow talk right" and idk we're both blushing 🙈 and he's like "I love listening to this, don't stop, keep talking" 😩😩 (fastest way to my heart lol)

Anyways, we leave the hotel (super cute place btw) and when we're by the reception the staff (just two dudes) look at us like 😏but tryna remain professional and I feel so accomplished like ??? I just had sex with this tall handsome man ??? 😩😩And everytime others looked at us, I was just like 😌😌hehe this hottie was inside me 😌hehe 🤪😜🤭 and ngl we look reallyyy good together 🥵🤭🙈but anyways although he pulled out in time, he did cum outside my yk what and I told him I'm taking the pill just to be safe and he parked a little bit away from the pharmacy and went and bought it for me???? Like that's well raised right there 🥹🥹 (he didn't want them to see me bc this is India and women are judged heavily for having sex and he bought it bc he came inside me so that's the least he could do 💀but just the fact that all of it was so unspoken and he just did all of it intuitively was sooo hot to me, like I said I'm turned on by gentlemanliness) you should have seen the way he looked when he walked back to me 🥹🥹🥹🥹 just the finest man alive 😍🥵😩 idk how someone can go from being some guy to THE guy in a couple of days but it's happened 😭😭😭

he texted me asking if I reached home and then asked me a little later if I took the pill 😭😭 I never ever EVER thought that him and I would be at a point where we fuck raw and he reminds me to take the pill 😭life works in mysterious ways 😭

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velvet-vox · 1 year ago

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The insane, untapped potential of Rebecca from Murder Drones.

Hello Murder Drones Tumblr. My name is Markiplier, and I'm the fastest man alive.

To the outside world, I'm a regular Reddit user hiding in their mother's basement, but secretly, I've done nothing except consume Rebecca content for the past 72 hours, with only one objective in mind: spread the truth about this one, singular character that I didn't give a single damn about to convince you that she could have been someone important in an alternate universe.

To do so, I had to consult the classics. Rewatch the entire series again, hogging the murder drones rebecca tag, checking out her Wikipedia page (which has to be rewritten by the way, cause it sucks), create a new Rebecca centered gallery on Pinterest, and stalk the channels of her main worshippers, all in the name of my research.

Once I had collected enough data and ideas, I was finally ready.

Today, I'm going to shed light on some unknown traits and misconceptions surrounding the character, all the while showcasing all the ideas that I've gathered that would have made Rebecca a more prominent part of Uzi's and maybe even N's development.

This was by far the hardest undertaking I've ever imposed upon myself in the history of this blog. Please, enjoy the following content at your own risk and expense.

Chapter 1: The Origins.

Some context for those of you who are uninitiated in the Becca cult, Rebecca is this girl:

She's a minor side character inside of episode 3 and 4, and a background character inside of episode 2; she's infamous in the community for being a "bully" and trying to steal N from Uzi while already dating and making out with other classmates.

Despite never committing genocide and being the only member of the cheerleader trio to not have been responsible for anybody's death, she's pretty hated by the fanbase at large or plainly forgotten/dismissed, at best people just don't care about her and see her as just too unimportant to be hated, at worst they kill her in the most gruesome of ways or accuse her of racism, homophobia, eccetera (before killing her, of course).

Although pretty unpopular, she still has her own niche of fans who gather up at the table to worship her; furthermore, there are a lot of fanarts from people who don't even like her where she survived the events of Cabin Fever but is now disabled and confined to a wheelchair.

The reason behind such treatment is due to the fact that Rebecca has committed five of the worst cardinal sins a fictional character can make: being an obstacle to the most popular ship in a fandom; being mean to a fan favourite such as the main character without any clear motivation; being annoying by proxy according to other characters reactions without doing anything to disprove it, thus reinforcing the idea in the audience that you are annoying; being unimportant to the overall story without having any obvious redeeming or interesting qualities while being perceived as graving in each and everyone of your few scenes; and, of course, being a woman.

But besides all that, whose mostly common knowledge, what else is there to say about Rebecca? What are some of her less noticeable traits and characteristics that make her worth it of an analysis and a rewrite to better include her inside the plot?

Well, unfortunately, the answers are not as uplifting and as satisfying as Rebecca's stans were hoping they would be. Even in an alternative universe, I doubt she would really be as important as some of the other characters, more so an important character for Uzi's development. Maybe even N's.

But don't let this statement fool you into safety: I genuinely believe canon Rebecca is simultaneously so much better and so much worse than the community believes her to be. Rebecca is as much of a freak as Uzi, but not in her obnoxious, extroverted way, nor in Doll's sociopathic, introverted way: she's their uncommon middle ground who somehow manages to be more messed up than the both of them in certain aspects.

Chapter 2: "The quirks"

Upon commencing my research, I've quickly realised that I might be even more unnerved by Rebecca than I was with Yeva, and it's all due to the fact Rebecca facial expressions and body gestures might be the single most obtuse and undecipherable details that Liam has decided to insert into the background of his story. You probably don't understand what I'm talking about because you haven't been losing sleep at night like I did, but let me show you the pictures:

Noticing anything wrong?

Everyone else upon seeing V is immediately frozen in terror or just surprised by the Disassembly Drone presence, but Rebecca instead just looks mildly.... annoyed? Intrigued? It's hard to tell by the image's shots alone but the only time where Rebecca's facial expressions change to the shocked looks of the Worker Drones on the right is when Lizzie says her infamous line and socially excluses her from the popular kids table.

There could be more to say about Rebecca's following lines "Fine, I forgive her! Settle." and how they don't really mean what you think they mean, because, just like we are going to see in a moment, Becca really doesn't give a damn about murder, in some ways, even more than the other Workers, but I haven't found a single more compelling meaning besides, you know, Rebecca's family, which we are soon going to be talking about.

Other weird facial expressions that she does are the weird look that she has when escaping Prom, her reactions to people dying in Cabin Fevers, and probably every single scene she's in when you think about it hard enough.

She also does this weird thing with her fingers. A sign of anxiety? She looks fairly inexpressive. Yet again, she might have learned to mask her emotions and the hand gesture could be a way to let it all out without putting too much attention upon herself. But why? Is the guy standing right beside her one of her parents? More of that in a minute.

Finally, and this is the biggest point of speculation, there's a high possibility that Rebecca might have sensory issues, a possibility that we are going to treat as fact, thus explaining why she's so afraid of falling out of the boat in this scene: aside from the fact that Worker Drones are probably not waterproof judging by the text in episode 1; Rebecca is literally experiencing sensorial discomfort from the erratic movements of the boat, and even if she was able to survive in water, she wouldn't be able to swim due to her disability. (Other possible evidence of this is the squirm she emits when the door of the abandoned cabin Uzi is in slams shut. Darren also reacts to it, but in a much more normal manner).

But now you might be asking: "If she really had sensory issues making these moments where she lacks balance scarier, why did she pick up cheerleading?" Which nicely segway's us into the next part:

(Side note, I've only specifically searched for sensorial discomfort in relation to sex, and based the rest on preemptive knowledge, thus I might have messed up some parts of this analysis; I'm sorry to anyone who experiences these issues and didn't find their inclusion in this essay accurate.)

Chapter 3: Becca the 13th

In the following segment, the line between canon and fanon, reasonable and made up blurs, but I beg you to stay patient and follow my thought process: the far fetched parts are based on the elements already present in the show to make Rebecca a more interesting characther while tying her to the themes of the show and to the preexisting dynamics.

In my research to answer the question "Why did Rebecca pick up cheerleading" I looked up a site explaining all the reasons why girls decide to get into cheerleading, and I've singled out these answers as the most likely possibilities for Rebecca's interest in the sport.

Passion for the Sport: Many women who become cheerleaders have a genuine passion for cheerleading and enjoy the physical and artistic aspects of the sport. They may see cheerleading as a way to express themselves creatively and be part of a team.

Opportunities for Performance: Cheerleading provides opportunities for women to perform in front of large audiences, which can be a rewarding experience for those who enjoy being in the spotlight and entertaining others.

Team Camaraderie: Cheerleading often involves working closely with a team of other cheerleaders, which can foster a strong sense of camaraderie and friendship. Many women value the sense of community and teamwork that comes with being a cheerleader.

Scholarship Opportunities: In some cases, cheerleading can provide opportunities for women to earn scholarships for college or other educational benefits. This can be a motivating factor for women who are looking to further their education.

Personal Development: Cheerleading can help women develop valuable skills such as teamwork, communication, leadership, and time management. These skills can be beneficial in both personal and professional settings.

Love for Dance and Performance: Cheerleading often involves elements of dance and performance, which can appeal to women who have a passion for these art forms. For some women, cheerleading offers a creative outlet to express themselves through movement and choreography.

Which one of them is the most likely?

If your answer is all/some of them, then you are probably right, as there could always be more than one reason driving an individual to commit the actions that they do.

If your answer is none of them, then you must be pretty bold to make such an assumption, but you can't be blamed as it's finally time to bring up the two big elephants in the room:

These two.

Rebecca's relationship with the other cheerleaders can't be anything but toxic, it just makes sense to me: Lizzie's not afraid to throw people under the bus if it means that she gets to stay on top of the social hierarchy, with Doll being the clear exception at this point of the story due to their closeness and intimacy, making Rebecca the most direct victim of Liz and Doll the main target of Becca's jealousy; she can't act too much on her jealousy though, cause Lizzy can just cut out her wings whenever she feels like, so most likely all of the bullying that she does on Doll is subtle and only at most convenient of times. Doll probably doesn't react to Rebecca's bullying seeing as she is Lizzy's second best friend and killing her would inconvenience the cheer's squad, but if her reaction to Rebecca's speech in The Promening is anything to go by then she has at least built up a certain resentment for her throughout their time spent together.

Rebecca is kind of like Heather Duke with the personality of Heather McNamara and Veronica's shaky presence inside of the trio. No, I'm not going to diagnose Doll and Lizzy as Heathers, do that yourself.

But we're going to bring back up the DLR trio back in a moment, as the time has come to fire up the Chekhov's gun:

Remember when I said that we were going to bring up Rebecca's family later on? It's finally time.

In the same boat scene that we talked about earlier, Rebecca asks N this question: "So, my friend wants to know if you've killed her family... and are single."

In case you didn't pick up on it, this is a common tactic used to taste the waters in a relationship, when someone uses the excuse of having another friend who has a crush on you to see if you are up for dating. Naturally, the underlying message of this tactic is "I'm the one friend who I was talking to you about, I'm interested in you. Are you interested in me?" but that's not where Rebecca's sentence stops, no, before doing that Rebecca specifically asked N if he might have killed her friend's family, with the implication that she's talking about her own family.

So... Rebecca is without parents, just like Doll and she was probably left with just her dad much like Uzi. Where the differences between Rebecca and the rest of the cast starts to shine is in her reaction to the death of her parents. Where Uzi's and Doll's mood worsened after the death of one or both of their parents, Rebecca seems to be happier for it.

We can take this a step even further and assume that the possibility that N might have killed her family could be the big reason as to why she's so attracted to him, even more than the other classmates (keyword "family". It means that she could have had a brother or sister too, though I doubt it): she hated her parents, is happy with their deaths, and views N as her saviour and white knight in the dark for killing them.

If we look back at the shot from episode 2, we can come up with a couple of theories: she's probably alone at the parents teachers conference, or, and this is the most interesting alternative, the guy who stands right beside her is her dad, the weird hand gesture that she's doing with her fingers could be genuine anxiety about her dad finding out that her teacher has some bad things to say about her school performance and punishing her for it, which could also further explain why she does anything that Lizzie says if the theory that Lizzie's father is the Teacher is true.

Due to her sensory issues, it's possible that Rebecca's hatred for her family stems from a streak of physical abuse received at home and exacerbated by her already frail physique. She probably has been living alone with her dad for a while, like the girl from the 2017 It movie; so for her to hate her mom too, unless she was still alive and didn't show up to the parents/teachers conference, there are a couple of possible explanations: A, her mother died when she was too young for her to give a s##t about her; B, her mother was also just as abusive as her dad; or C, the most compelling explanation, as it parallels Khan's and Uzi's relationship: Rebecca's father uses the death of her mother as an excuse to wallop into self pity and be abusive, similarly to Khan but ten times worse, thus leading Rebecca to hate her mom even if she never knew her just by virtue of constantly hearing her name being used as justification for her dad's awfulness.

Rebecca could have, in just a couple of minutes, grown attached to N in the same way Uzi's grown attached to him throughout the course of the series: by viewing him as a sort of comfort net for the horrible things that have happened to her and as the one who saved her from her awful home life (by killing her parents).

Her dad probably did the interview right after Khan and thus implying a small space of time where he left her alone for god knows whatever reason, died to Eldritch J right before Uzi and N came in to stop her and Khan finally arrived to the crime scene, thus leading Rebecca to assume that N killed him in episode 4 and, through a connection made up by her wild immagination, her mom aswell.

So, for Rebecca, unlike Uzi and Doll, the day her parents died must have been the best day of her life; knowing how Doll lost her parents and looked pretty happy on the outside, Rebecca took this as a positive that her life could only improve; leading to the time spent between the ending of episode 2 and her death in episode 4 to be happiest period of her life, especially after episode 3 where Doll was revealed as a serial killer and went into hiding, making Rebecca the only friend Lizzie had left and solidifying her place in the social hierarchy.

When you think about it, we never see Rebecca being "happy" before episode 3, and while it could just be because we don't see enough of her, it could also really be that she was unhappy with her home life; Lizzie and Doll clearly weren't helping as despite Doll being at the bottom of the abuse trio of Lizzie and Rebecca, it's pretty clear by the framing of the show that Rebecca was always the most replaceable member of the trio, Lizzie was the master manipulator holding all of the cards of the social hierarchy thanks in part to her dad's influence, and Doll was Lizzie's irreplaceable (until V) main enforcer who at any moment could have just snapped and physically threatened Lizzie with her powers; leading Rebecca to feel constantly anxious of her every move. Plus, it must have been fairly obvious to the entire school that Doll and Lizzie had an affair going on and Rebecca wasn't part of it, therefore other students could have definitely picked up on her anxiety and started a gossip behind her back, leading her to feel even worse about herself than she already was. Which also, in turn, parallels Uzi and her feelings of being socially ostracized, making them even more of a foil to each other, with the main difference being that Uzi tried to fit in by becoming a hero to the colony and failing, while Rebecca carved her own unstable niche into society that she has to constantly struggle to maintain (Doll being at the positive end of the spectrum in this case, by being popular without struggling and willingly giving up said popularity for her revenge fantasies).

Her fear of losing the social stability and bullying immunity provided by Lizzie and Doll eventually turned into paranoia, forcing her to make up lies about dating people, like the guy "Brad" who she supposedly went to Prom with despite that apparently never being the case. To maintain the lies as truthful, she eventually benefitted from the ripple effect that those lies had created for her thanks in part to her good looks: now having the reputation of a nymph, she could get people to have sex with her, probably using it as an excuse for never actually being in a relationship with anyone (Darren is one of those people, she wasn't dating him, she was just making out with him).

There's also much to be said about the way Rebecca views sex and relationships as a whole; I'm not too sure about this talking point due to the aforementioned sensory issues that she has, but she could view sex as a sort of escapism fantasy, which also carries over in her love fantasy of N, and her relationship with the other cheerleaders as a semi functional support system, yet again other similarities with Uzi who, at the start of the series latched onto her fantasy of becoming a hero as escapism from her unfortunate school and home life, and, with a little stretching, we could say that Lizzy and Doll were to Rebecca what N and V are to Uzi, though not quite as healthy.

To ensure that Rebecca's views and actions on sex don't jive with her possibly having sensory issues, I've looked up information regarding the way people with these types of problems engage in sexual activity, and luckily for me, none of what I've found seemed to contradict any of the points I've brought up.

Here I have isolated all of the results of my research that fit Rebecca the most. Note: all of these apply to "some" individuals, not "every" individual. You don't have to check out all of these to have sensory issues regarding sex and other similar activities. I'm not a medic, so don't take any of these as gospel.

Perhaps the most obvious way that disordered sensory processing can affect sexuality is through physical touch. Some individuals may dislike hugs and embraces. Others may seek out a lot of touch or intense touch experiences.

Bright lights may agitate individuals with disordered sensory processing during intimacy. Play around to find the best lighting for you and your partner. Try using candles, soft bedside lighting, or turn off the lights completely! Avoid engaging in intimacy directly in front of a window or another uncontrollable light source.

An environment with a surplus of visual stimulation can be overwhelming and distracting. A cluttered environment can limit your partner’s ability to engage in intimacy because they are using energy to process visual inputs. For this reason, seek out clean, neutral, and minimalist spaces! In turn, assure your partner that it is okay to close their eyes during intimacy. This can help to calm their senses and allow them to focus on you, rather than the environment.

Background noises such as music, television, or roommates speaking next door may be distracting to individuals with disordered sensory processing. Find a quiet, private place to engage in intimacy. Avoid integrating music into the environment unless your partner suggests it!

Some individuals with disordered sensory processing have difficulty understanding where their head is in space; they may become disoriented or sensitive to different head positions. On the other hand, they may seek out intense vestibular sensations by engaging in extreme movements and positions. While some individuals may feel more comfortable being stable and stationary, others crave motion.

Sex is also most likely viewed as a coping mechanism for Rebecca, even if the main reason why she probably does it is to remain upon the popular girls in the school.

All of this added context makes Rebecca's death in episode 4 far more tragic, yet less random than some of the other campers. It comes as a result of one, yet fatal flaw: Her need to stay at the top of the food chain.

At this point in the story, Rebecca was getting closer to N, she could have just simply kept nurturing this relationship until it would have developed into something more genuine and mutual. It could have come to the point where eventually, once N would have chosen Uzi over her (because of course he would), she could have come to accept it and move on with her life instead of keep chasing her escapism fantasies and fawning over her parents possible murderer, maybe she would have even befriended Uzi in the process. But no. Her ego was her downfall: once N went away and could no longer satisfy her current needs, she decided to keep improving her social position, an easier thing to do now that Doll was out of the hierarchy, and proceeded to reinforce her reputation by making out with Darren, which got her accidentally killed by Uzi.

Accidentally, just like the death of her parents probably was.

Her death is almost perfect, even better than some of the others in the show: while Doll's death was brutal and heart wrenching but not really satisfying, Tessa's death mostly happened in the background and the show spent very little time on it, Alice's, Beau's, Yeva's and her husband's death depend on how you view their characters and if you think it fits, and V's death is the closest to perfect but wonky in certain aspects of its execution (just like V's arc in general), Rebecca's death is the perfect conclusion to her character.

She dies segmented, broken in pieces, part of her still lives for a couple of minutes, while the other gets eaten by what is essentially the character's foil of the one girl she was jealous of, and whose disappearance greatly benefited Rebecca. While crawling to the other campers, she must have suffered the whole time, just like she suffered her whole life before episode 2, the split of her torso represents her inability to pick up just one road, and in a meta context represents the fact that she is the middle ground between various character's situations.

It also represents the split in her life's trajectory: she was unhappy with her parents and was happy when they died, then became happy with her life and is now unhappy as she's slowly dying of a pain comparable to the one provided by her dad. All of this because of her ego.

And then lastly, as the final nail in the coffin, once she finally reaches the other students, her insides spilling out (reference to Melissa-titanium Doll's death post), everybody immediately forgets about her, just like they did with Uzi. She spent so much time climbing the social ladder, afraid and paranoid that she might tumble down and her parents would punish her for it, only for her to be immediately forgotten about once her systems shut down, still considered meaningless, tying her death also to Doll's and possibly Uzi's one, as the middle ground exploration of the theme of failure: Uzi fails but manages to achieve everything she had ever wanted, Doll fails but manages to achieve nothing, Rebecca fails but manages to achieve half.

It also ties back to Tessa as an alternate version who got freed from her parents abuse and had a chance to live a better life but still died soon afterwards because of a mistake she made.

Chapter 4: The Results

As you can see, just by using all the stuff present in the show if you squirm hard enough for it, with some added details we get a lot of utility out of Rebecca as a character:

- She develops Uzi, develops N, and develops and challenges Nuzi even more than she does in canon, but in a much more meaningful way.

- She works simultaneously as a foil to Uzi and Doll due to her benefiting from the death of her parents, and as well as a foil to Uzi and Tessa, who both had pretty bad parents but never wanted them to die.

- Her relationship with her dad also serves as a foil to Uzi's and Khan's father/daughter relationship, possibly helping to strengthen Khan's arc by showcasing a worse version of himself to the audience, rendering the reconciliation between father and daughter all the more sweeter.

- She deepens Uzi's and Doll's relationship in a different way than the Nori/Yeva parallels, by showcasing us a middle ground between the two characters that is simultaneously so much better and so much worse than the both of them.

- She also deepens the parallels between Uzi and Tessa, by showing us what could have happened if Tessa had the same sadistic tendencies of Uzi and left her parents to die intentionally (side note: Rebecca leaving her parents to die intentionally is also what could have happened in this made up canon. I doubt Rebecca finds joy in other people's suffering, but I can't help but think that she might have finally felt relief when the source of abuse in her life was finally gone), basically doubling as the middle ground between Uzi and Tessa but without their engineering skills, yet again, being so much better and so much worse than both characters.

- She serves to make Uzi more interesting by virtue of being foils but not in the obvious, narrative way of Doll, rather, in a more subtle, social way: if played right, her death could have hunted Uzi in ways the deaths of her other classmates didn't, by finally making Uzi question if she was ever in the right or if she isn't as much of a monster as Doll is.

- Further explores the themes of abuse present in the show and better ties said themes to Lizzy and Doll, who are currently lacking.

- She could have been used as a "tease" for Cyn, something that I haven't talked about until now (Uzi's and Cyn's middle ground). From what we know about Cyn, it seems like she was coded with some sort of robo neuro divergence, similar to the one that Rebecca possibly possesses; the details of Bec's story could have been reworked to parallel some of Cyn's story details, giving Uzi (and the audience) a taste of what Cyn's story or personality is like before meeting the real deal.

- She also, canonically, served to develop me.

Before I started working on this project, I never gave too much of a care about Rebecca. I didn't hate her like many people did, I actually liked her even if that liked soon turned into contempt once the serious writing for this essay actually started, but now I can confidently say that I'm a Rebecca enjoyer, the ideas that I've come up with for her are just too interesting for me to view her in the same way ever again, and I hope that this lecture might have also slightly changed your opinion of Rebecca as well.

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