#its so hard to let go of an identity that meant so much to me but maybe isn't the right thing after all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iliketangerines · 8 days

Note

wife wife please 🙏 wife hear me out

okay either johnny finds out you got a CAGE tramp stamp and hits yo shit from the back

climbing liu kang like a tree and he holds you up and SPEARS YOU ON THE MEAT

🫶 runs away

climbing the tower

a/n: @partycatty i wanted to get this out a day earlier but oh well

pairing: liu kang x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), slight dom/sub, hickeys, bite marks, blowjobs, deepthroating, wall sex, public sex (you're in the infirmary where anyone could walk in), slight overstimulation, praise kink, not proofread

you’re not short by any means, being a mediocre average height your entire life meant you had blended in with everyone else

well that, and your natural shapeshifter abilities, but after going through an identity crisis in your ripe teenager years, you usually felt most comfortable in your own skin

however, at the Wu Shi Academy, being average height meant that you were actually short

you wonder what they were feeding the other combatants because Johnny, Kenshi, Kung Lao, and Raiden all tower over you by several inches

and none of them let you forget it, constantly resting their elbows on your shoulders and making you their counter to rest on

it had led to quite a few bruises, mostly for Johnny and Kung Lao, but even Kenshi and Raiden had their moments where they teased you for your height

the jokes didn’t make you uncomfortable, not your height, with your shapeshifting ability, you could just be taller than them, but you hadn’t ever felt the need to

unless Liu Kang was around

he wasn’t that much taller than any of them, perhaps just by an inch or two, but still, his height, his broad shoulders, and his calm and gentle attitude had you sweating every time he came around you

embarrassing as it was, the way he towered over you always sent all the blood rushing downwards and for your tongue to twist into knots and for your body to feel as hot as burning coals

if Liu Kang ever noticed the slight demeanor change, he didn’t mention it, simply giving you that gentle smile and a reassuring hand on your shoulder

you’re sure that it would be the death of you, the soft but firm words, the gentle tone, the slight rasp in his voice as he gave orders to all of you

every time his hand touched you, you could never help but imagine his fingers touching elsewhere, buried in your hair, gripping onto your thighs, thrusting into your-

you jolt out of your thoughts as Kung Lao roughly elbows you in the side during breakfast, asking what’s got your head so high up in the clouds

scowling at the monk, you slap at his shoulder and pick up your spoon to finish off your breakfast of congee

he winces at the contact and dramatically drapes himself over Raiden, bemoaning about how his closest friend just beat him so viciously and that he would need a kiss to heal it

Raiden rolls his eyes, but the soft smile playing on his lips betrayed his true thoughts as the farmer turned his head to place a gentle kiss upon the monk’s lips

Johnny sighs from across the table, bemoaning just as dramatically as Kung Lao about saving the smooching for the bedroom, and Kung Lao simply flips off the actor before grabbing on tighter to Raiden, determined to put on a show and piss off Johnny as much as possibly

you just roll your eyes at the love sick sight and tip the bowl back, emptying the bowl of its congee, and you excuse yourself from the table just as Kenshi hisses at Johnny to stop being so overreactive

the start of another catfight begins, and you let out a quick huff of hair from your nose, shaking your head and smiling

absolute idiots, but you loved them all nonetheless

as you walk back, you stare at the ground, counting the tiles your feet step on and dodging the cracks in the concrete pavement, and you think back to Liu Kang

you liked Liu Kang, to say the least, it wasn’t exactly hard to figure out your own lust when you had first saw him, and your feelings for him only grew stronger the longer you had hung out with him

he was kind, thoughtful, and most of all, so gentle and warm, and you snort at the irony of him being warm and being the god of fire

but still, your thoughts veer back on track as you think about him and you

you’re just a mortal, a human, a human with shapeshifting powers but human nonetheless, and he was a god, almighty and powerful and much more experienced and aged

it wouldn’t do you any good to desire him, to go after him, and you had tried to squash your own feelings for him, using your powers to match his height whenever he came around

a feeble effort to try and mitigate one of the reasons you liked him, but it wasn’t doing much good, not when his voice affected you more than anything or the way he held himself or the way that he was just so understanding and willing to listen and-

you barely manage to sidestep someone in front of you as they come into your field of view, and you snap your head up, shooting up in height as an instinctual reaction at the sight of Liu Kang

he cranes his neck to look at you as your head crashes into the ceiling above, and you let out a small groan and slowly diminish in height as you rub at the top of your head

Liu Kang asks if you are alright, and you wave him off, saying that he had just caught you by surprise

you shrink down to match his height and watch as he slightly quirks his eyebrow at you, wondering why you hadn’t shrunk down to your original height yet

shifting your weight, you say that you walk faster with long legs and that you should return your bowl to the kitchen and get back before Johnny and Kenshi get into a fight

the god lightly chuckles, just a small laugh and one barely audible over the slight breeze in the wind and the background of monks chanting in the background, but you think you’re about to fall over as heat rushes to your cheeks

how was he so attractive even just doing a simple thing

you give him a sheepish smile and hurry off to the kitchens, mumbling that you really have to get going, and you don’t notice his eyes following you as you speed walk away

when you come back to the dining room, Raiden sits next to Kenshi while Kung Lao sits next to Johnny, the actor and swordsman sporting congee on top of their uniforms as thy shoot ugly glances at each other while the farmers try and calm each other down

it seems like today would be a long one

training that day goes just as well as this morning, Johnny and Kenshi refuse to spar with anyone else but each other, leading to Liu Kang having to monitor their matches closely

you haven’t changed back into your normal height, and while you aren’t adverse to using your powers for extended periods of time, your skin was starting to crawl with the need to go back to normal

but still, something instinctual tells you to stay tall, to try and reduce your attraction to the god, and so you focus back on your own spar with Kung Lao

the monk smirks at you and beckons you toward him, and you reciprocate his grin before finally lunging at him

it’s a long match, drawn out and long, and unease prickles underneath your skin as you fight him in your changed height

you were used to fighting while average height, easier to move faster, to land lower blows, and now that you were taller than him, you were struggling

still, in the corner of your eye, you can still spot Liu Kang at the training fields, observing and watching you all

so you stay in your modified height and take the blows from Kung Lao, trying to change your strategy to incorporate your height

the match drags on for a few minutes, and you feel proud of yourself for managing to hold on this long

at least until Kung Lao kicks you onto your back with a particularly powerful blow, and your head smacks against the ground

pain explodes in the back of your head, and you groan, feeling your body twitch and change and morph as it struggles to deal with the pain

you don’t realize you’ve closed your eyes until the blurry figure of Liu Kang appears in your vision, blocking out the harsh sun as he asks if you’re okay

even in pain, your brain still manages to change the position dirty, filling your head with images of him bent over you in a different situation, skin sweaty and hot, hair disheveled and lips kissed swollen

he calls your name, and you let out a meek yes, sounding a bit whinier than you had wanted to, and Liu Kang sighs in relief and brings his hand to your shoulder to help you sit up

it burns your skin, the heat off of his palm, and you hope and pray that he can’t hear how your heart starts beating rapidly or how your face grows flush and sweaty underneath his touch

Liu Kang tells you he's going to bring you to the infirmary, turning his head away to briefly tell one of the monks overseeing that they are now in charge

his hands stay on your body as you stand up, the world still slightly spinning before you, and your head sways as black dots swim at the top of your vision

the god purses his lips and starts to guide you in the direction of the infirmary, his feet keeping pace with your now shorter legs

the longer and longer you walk to the med bay, the more your head clears, and the more you’re aware of his hand on your shoulder

of both of his hands on your shoulder and how you’re, at best, shoulder height now

you meekly try and push your way out of a visit to the health clinic, but he stares down at you with a hard gaze, and your protest dies in your throat as you try and reel in your own lust for him

it gets appreciably harder when he sits you down in the cot and inspects you himself, asking you questions in a low tone of voice as his hands move to you head to inspect for any swollenness

your voice strains to sound normal as you try to answer his question, the pain in the back of your head gone and replaced with the feeling of butterflies whirling inside of your stomach and liquid hot lust dripping down into your body

he hums and finishes his inspection, sighing and saying that you should be more careful, that using your powers for any longer than a few hours was something to be worked on gradually

besides, your strengths lay with your smaller stature, allowing you attacks that none of the other defenders could feasibly do

you nod your head, trying to avoid eye contact, lest he look into your soul and found the depravity hiding within

his brows furrow, and he tells you to look at him and to answer him with words, that he needed to make sure you understand

god take you now because you might actually stain the bed cot with how wet you are at his commanding tone of voice

you take too long to answer Liu Kang, and he gently raises your chin up to look at him, your neck straining upwards to look at his stern eyes and furrowed brows as he await your answer

it catches you by surprise, his hand on your face, and an involuntary whine slips out of you at the casual dominance

perhaps it would’ve been better if you had blacked out earlier because at least you wouldn’t be stuck in this uncomfortable situation

your face burns with embarrassment, mouth slightly parted at the fact that you had just whined, and Liu Kang lifts his eyebrows in slight surprise

his hand doesn’t falter, however, on your chin, and he cocks his head at you, blinking as you try and sputter out words and excuses or really anything

he shifts in his position, somehow now looming over you, his broad shoulders completely blocking out your vision and his thumb slips itself in between your parted lips

damn you and your body because you immediately go limp in his hold, mouth instinctively closing around his finger as you let him just lean over you

a small coy smile plays on his lips, and you’re too focused on trying to snap out of how good this all feels to realize that he figures out why you’ve been avoiding him lately

Liu Kang lets out a gentle huff of air, drawing his thumb out of your lips, but you don’t have any time to whine as he places his large hands on your waist and easily transfers you from the bed cot and into his lap

your thighs spread around his, trapping his legs in between yours, but you feel more expose as he spreads his legs, forcing your own to spread as well

even sitting in his lap, you’re still shorter than him, and he takes full advantage of this fact as he presses one hand into the small of your back to force you into the warmth of his skin as he leans forward, bending your back into a bow-like shape

you can’t think, can barely even breathe as your hands settle onto his shoulders, squeezing at the firm muscle to try and ground yourself into reality

even that grows difficult as he leans his head forward, nose bumping into yours, eyes boring down painfully through you, as if he could hear and see every thoughts, peeling away the layers of your mind to find your dirtiest fantasies about him

Liu Kang breathes out, eyes still focused onto yours, and you look away, turning your head to the side and squirming slightly at just how intimate this all was

he frowns at how you avoid his gaze, and his hand at your back goes to squeeze your thigh while his other cradles the back of your neck, squeezing it like he was scruffing a cat

his chest vibrates as he orders you to look at him, and you can feel something nervous grip onto your heart, squeezing and squeezing as you force your head to turn to look at him

you think you’re going to die because you’re so turned on right now that you can’t even process how Liu Kang clenches his jaw, trying to hold onto the small thread of control over himself

praise falls from his lips, saying that you were so good for following his command, and your hips rut forward of their own volition, desperately seeking for some sort of friction on your aching clit

Liu Kang hums at your neediness, eyes never leaving yours as he squeezes at your waist, and you whine again as you grind against empty air

it’s overwhelming how he surrounds you, the scent of ash and green tea in the air, his eyes boring into your soul, the warmth of his hand on the back of your neck, your thigh

as if the god knows, he leans his head forward to consume you completely, lips moving towards yours, and he pauses, just to let you have a choice to push him away just in case

you surge forward, wanting him to devour you, to completely surround you in his heat, and he groans and leans into you further, arching your back into a strained curve

but the ache of your muscle is negated by how his lips taste you, tongue dragging over your lips, low groans into your mouth that you can barely hear over the blood rushing in your ears

he kisses you like a starving animal, pressing into you further and further, seeking more and more of you until you had nothing more to give and then taking some more

your mind is melting, you’re pretty sure it is, and it doesn’t help when his hand on the back of your neck trails up and threads through your hair, pulling you head back as his lips move to your neck

his lips are soft against the skin of your neck, teasing and soft, leaving fervent kisses along the expanse of it, but you want more and gather what little grasp of your will you have left

you trail one of your hands on his shoulder down and shove it down his pants to grab onto his cock, hand firmly wrapping around it

Liu Kang lets out a loud groan against your skin, sinking his teeth into the flesh, and it makes you let out a choked sound as you try and give him some modicum of pleasure

his tongue licks over the mark, almost like an apology, but you find it a lie as he moves to another part of your skin and bites down again as you continue to try and stroke him

wriggling in his hold, you manage to let out a whiny plea for you to suck his cock

it gives the god pause, and his lips momentarily stop against your skin before pulling back to stare into your eyes again

he lets out a breath, asking if you were sure, and you squirm in his ironclad grip on you and let out a pitiful yes, voice high-pitched and breathy

Liu Kang hums and slowly, almost mournfully, lessens his hold on you and helps guide you on shaky legs down to your knees and in between his spread thighs

he pulls down his pants, intending on taking them fully off, but you’re too impatient and shuffle forward and grab onto his cock, perhaps feeling a bit intimidated at the size

it didn’t surprise you that he was thick, thicker than anything you had ever seen or practiced on, but still, there was a reason you were an earthrealm defender, you never backed down from a challenge

your other hand grabs onto his thigh for balance as you leans your head forward, tongue dragging against the length of his cock from base to tip

the god draws in a sharp breath and forces his hands to stay at his sides, wanting to see how far you would go before he would push you to your limits

you concentrate on the task before you, trying not to get too distracted with how his broad form looms over you and how absolutely fucking soaked you are at the sight

ignoring your own need, greedy to taste him, you wrap your lips around the head of him, tongue pressing into the slit to taste his pre-cum, and Liu Kang’s hands start to burn through the cloth of the bed cot

if you smell the burning linen, you don’t pay any mind, using one hand to stroke him up and down in controlled strokes while your mouth suckles at the tip

so, maybe you were a lot intimidated actually at the size of him, not his length, no that was only a bit above average

his girth on the other hand

you clench around nothing at the thought of him stretching you out, the slight burn, the addicting pressure, the feeling of fullness

Liu Kang grits his teeth, hand twitching and burning through the bed cit as he tries to not to bury his fingers in your hair and force your head all the way down until your nose touches down to the base of curls

humming slightly, listening to the choked moan of the god, you push forward, bringing the tip of his cock past your lips and bobbing your head up and down with the pace of your hand

slowly but surely, you take him further and further down your mouth, until he’s in your throat, and your lips burn and you’re sure that tears are falling down your face

he’s losing his self-control, heart beating rapidly in his chest at the sight of you so debauched, tears running down your face, eyes slightly glazed over as you focus on sucking his cock, and Liu Kang can’t help it as his hand finally leaves the bed to bury itself in your hair

his hand pushes you down further and further, and you let him take control, mind slowly going blank at how he’s filling every one of your senses

your nose buries itself into his pelvis, and distantly, you can hear him telling you to breathe through your nose, to stay calm, that you were doing so well for him, so good for him

your own hands grip onto his thighs, squeezing and kneading to try and keep yourself here and present, but control is slipping as you breathe in the scent of him

Liu Kang breathes out through his nose, as his hand tightens its grip on your hair as he moves your head up and down, trying to stay in control, trying to stay calm

and then you let out a breathy whine as his hips stutter and hit the back of your throat roughly, and the thin thread snaps as his other hand grips onto your head

it’s sinful, the wet sounds coming from your mouth, the way Liu Kang fucks into your throat, how your eyes stare up at him, teary and hazy as you moan

the sound vibrates through him, and he thinks he’s going to cum just like this, down your throat, despite his eons and eons of experience

but he doesn’t want to paint your face or your throat with his cum, at least not just yet, and he forces himself to pull your mouth off of his cock, missing the feeling of you immediately

you look dazed, wrecked, all from him, lips swollen and covered in your spit, drool hanging down your chin

Liu Kang drags you up into his lap and kisses you, wrapping your legs around his waist and digging his fingers into the plump meat of your thighs as he stands up

he walks forward, his lips never leaving yours as your arms wrap around his neck to pull him in forward, and your back finally meets the wall of the infirmary

the god grinds his cock into your clothed pussy, two layers too much, and he bites back a growl at the obstruction

balancing you on one hand, arm barely straining with effort, he reaches his free hand down in between you and tears at your pants easily, making you gasp

instantly, both of his hands dig into your ass once again and his cock presses up against your swollen and needy clit

after so long without any friction, you gasp and whimper at the contact, trying to push your hips forward to get more

he denies you, relishing how you squirm in his arms and how your whines grow needier and needier with each passing second

when you let out a small plea, your name hanging from his lips like honey and a sweet please melting into the air, he shakes his head

it would be too much for you, he hadn’t had the time to properly stretch you, to prepare you, and he didn’t want to hurt you

Liu Kang promises you another time, and you whine in frustration, pulling away from his lips with a glare

your thighs tighten around his waist as you lift yourself up just enough so that the head of his cock notches against you, and before he can react, you sink down, choking back your own moan

he should lift you up, get you off of him before you hurt yourself, but he can’t find it in himself to take you off, your pussy sucking him in further and further until your hips finds themselves flush with his

you whine, head buried into the crook of his neck, and he breathes out harshly through his nose, straining every fiber of his being to not lift you up and begin fucking into you

it’s a brutal several minutes as you adjust to his size, taking in deep stuttering breaths as he murmurs into your ear to breathe, that you were doing so well for him

his thumbs rub circles into the sides of your skin as you calm down, and then you finally squirm impatiently on his dick, clenching your pussy around him and forcing a groan out of him

you moan, begging him to move, and Liu Kang tightens his grip on your legs and finally starts bouncing you on his cock, knocking any sense that you might have left in your brain

the lewd sounds of your pussy fill the air with your moans and whimpers, and Liu Kang wants to taste your pleasure, your desperation

he brings his lips to yours again, kissing you, swallowing every one of your sweet sounds as he thrusts up into you, trying to angle his hips to hit that one sweet spot

when you yelp into his mouth, stars bursting behind your eyelids and arms tightening around his neck, he smiles against your lips and fucks into the spot, making sure that the fat head of his cock bullies relentlessly into it

you swear you’re being lifted into the heavens, higher than the heavens actually, pleasure singing through every nerve in your body and your orgasm was hurtling towards you faster than you had ever known

Liu Kang finally pulls away, and you’re sure that you look dazed and already fucked out

in the haze of your pleasure, you almost miss him telling you to do something, and you have to let out a pathetic what, interrupted by a pitiful whine as he fucks back into your sweet spot

he tells you to rub your clit, his voice rumbling through you and straight down as you hear a loud squelch

but you comply immediately, craving your release, feeling dizzy by how he surrounds you, and your fingers rub against your clit slowly and lightly

his eyes are transfixed on the sight, the bud swollen and coated in your wetness, and he tells you to pinch it, to be rough

pleasure already overwhelms you, but you listen, body shaking and hand struggling as you overstimulate yourself, pinching and rolling your clit between your fingers

Liu Kang practically purrs, telling you to keep doing that, to keep listening to him and being so good for him, groaning as he feels your pussy pulse around him in tandem with how you play with your clit

you can’t even warn him as you cum on his cock, keening loudly and rubbing at your clit in tight rough circles as you ride your high

the god just shoves his mouth to yours, devouring you completely as you lose yourself, his hips never stopping, never changing as he fucks you through your pleasure

only when you feel the last of your orgasm dribble out does his hips falter, and he groans into your mouth as he cums inside of you, fucking it deeper and deeper inside of you with each slowing thrust

eventually, he stops, his cock still buried inside of you, and he just kisses you, enjoying how you taste him as well, how you grow more gentle with your lips as your body starts to sag from exhaustion

Liu Kang helps you to your feet, smiling internally when you look up at him and ask in a feeble voice if he could carry you

he obliges, because how he could he not, and picks you up, the bend of your knees supported by one arm while his other arm supported your upper back

your arms wrap around his neck once more, and you tuck your head in against his chest, eyes closing slightly as you mumble that you don’t think you can walk anymore

glancing down at the mess you and he had made on the floor, he’s not surprised and presses a kiss to the top of your forehead as he brings you back to your room

he had you in his arms now, and he wasn’t going to let go

#tangerine writes #tangerine answers #mortal kombat x reader #mk x you #mk x reader #mk x y/n #mortal kombat smut #mk smut #mk1 x reader #mk1 x you #mk1 x y/n #mk1 smut #liu kang x reader #liu kang x you #liu kang smut

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linkspooky · 7 months

Text

So I was genuinely surprised last week when we were finally shown Megumi's mental state inside Sukuna and he was predictably at his lowest point ever, and instead of sympathy from the fans most of the responses on twitter I saw were people mocking him.

Which I am going to assume comes from a misunderstanding as his character. You see Megumi doesn't fit into the role of the black haired supporting protagonist / rival well. He's not Sasuke, he's not Uryu Ishida, he's not Yuno but he's not meant to be a rival or even a typical shonen character who's progress is only measured by a series of power ups. Megumi is perhaps one of the most subtly written characters in the manga, and perhaps he's hard to sympathize with because he doesn't fit into easy to udnerstand shonen tropes. Which is why I will try to explain his arc below and why Jujutsu Kaisen does it like no other manga currently running.

1. Meet Potential Man

Let me introduce you to the worst meme on twitter.

Megumi's inability to live up to his potential to reach his full power as a sorcerer is probably his biggest flaw, one that is rightfully called out by the narrative again and again, but apparently an intentionally written character flaw is bad writing.

It's covered in Gojo's "Swing for the fences" speech.

Gojo notices Megumi bunt in the baseball game and decides to confront him about it later. He highlights that while bunting is alright in baseball, and it's good to sacrifice yourself so your teammates can advance in a team sport that being a sorcerer is a solo sport. No matter what Megumi is going to reach a point where he's forced to fight alone, and instead of trying to push himself to be as strong as he can be he intentionally limits himself to cooperate with the sorcerers around him.

Basically, the opposite of Gojo who literally cannot fight with other sorcerers because he won't be able to fight at full strength as they just get in the way.

It's not just that Megumi can't use the ten shadows to its full potential, something pointed out by Sukuna, and then later again by Gojo, it's also that he always prioritizes either the group or someone else above himself when trying to decide how to act. Megumi is a semi-decent strategist so this is not necessarily a bad thing, but because of Megumi's tendency to care more about trying to live up to other people's expectations towards him, and what other people need of him rather than his own needs he doesn't have the attitude necessary for sorcery, especially since the strongest sorcerers don't take others into account at all and act like living calamities.

Megumi doesn't look at himself, he looks at the people around him. He judges himself based on what the people around him want from him, not what he wants. This is going to be a continual theme in his arc.

Sukuna is a living calamity, the definition of the attitude a strong sorcerer has, Gojo Satoru wields sorcerery only for himself, and is a sorcerer because he finds exorcising curses and using his god given talents to be fun for him.

Megumi's reason for fighting, his self worth, are all much, much less than the strongest characters in this series which is why he continually fails to live up to his potential. It's not because Gege is not good at writing or Megumi is a disappointing character, but rather he's been written as someone with tremendous potential under the pressure to live up to that potential but who continually fails to do so. Megumi's low self-esteem, low self-worth, and lack of self-identity explains both his failure to progress as a sorcerer something that requires selfishness and self-identity to reach greater heights in, but also his tendency to pick the suicide option with Mahoraga because Megumi genuinely believes compared to the others even just his classmates his life is simply worth less.

So potential man, is an intentionally written character flaw already called out in canon. The more interesting question is why does Megumi fail to live up to his potential.

2. Meet The Original Potential Man

So, I said that Megumi is not like a lot of characters in Shonen Jump but that doesn't mean he's entirely unique. To help explain Megumi's inability to live up to his potential I thought it would be helpful to compare him to a character he's clearly inspired by.

Killua Zoldyck, is the deuteragonist of a manga called hunter x hunter. You may have heard of it, Gege certainly has. Killua is born into a family of assassins who all have supernatural powers. The assassins inflict incredibly harsh training on their children from birth in order to raise them into assassins because their potential as assassins is all that matters. They also start with a "Z".

Killua is apparently the most talented Zen'in... I mean Zoldyck of this generation, though he's still young so he's weaker than his father and brother he's expected to easily surpass them one. Which is why Killua's family has already decided for him that he's going to be the next one to take over the family, Killua's opinion doesn't matter. Illumi and Silva are both setting him up for success by forcing their "help" upon him. Several other members of the family even point out that Killua probably doesn't have the attitude to be the head of the family, but what does it matter when he's got such great talent?

Killua is a complicated victim. He's a victim of many things, familial abuse is the most obvious one because the Zoldyck have a nasty habit of torturing their children, but the less obvious one is grooming. Not in a sexual sense, but rather the adults in Killua's life have decided to use their authority over him to manipulate him into becoming what they want him to be - the next head of the family.

What's insidious about this is the Zoldyck's don't just torture or beat Killua into submission, they will use any tool in their arsenal, familial love, emotional blackmail, threats, all to undermine Killua's agency and choices in order to make him not only do what they want to do but make him think he has to grow into the person they want him to.

Grooming not in a sexual sense, but definitely in a psychological sense, an adult using their authority as an adult over a child and their maturity to manipulate that child into becoming what they want them to be instead of letting that child grow naturally. When it's used in a sexual sense it's when an adult establishes a connection with a minor, and then uses that connection in the long-term to manipulate them into having a relationship and lower the child's inhibition. Think of that, but without the sexual part - an adult using their relationship with a child often in a long-term manipulation to lower the child's inhibitions and make them more malleable and raise them to do what you want them to do.

Killua has not been sexually groomed, but he has been groomed by both his parents and his brother to make him more suggestible to becoming the family head which is something he explicitly does not want to do. Not only did Killua's family only raise him for the purpose of becoming an assassin and taking over the family one day (raising him as a child into an adult, his emotional maturity, his health and well being are all secondary priorities to what Killua can do for his family) they also manipulate him into thinking he has no choice other than being an assassin.

Killua is a kid put through extremely harsh training from a young age, to do a horrible job that is being an assassin that doesn't let him make normal friends or have a normal life. On top of the physical abuse he's already endured, whenever he expresses a desire to do something else in his life, his parents send Illumi to emotionally manipulate him into thinking that not only is he a natural born killer, and therefore a bad person who deserves all the abuse he's been put through, to further convince him that his only path forward is to be an assassin.

Killua is a character who has a lot of power, but little agency. Agency, in fiction is the ability a character has to take action and make decisions for themselves. Despite Killua starting as a more powerful and more savvy character than Gon, he has little agency and is often very passive. He doesn't act, he reacts. Even running away from his family is a reaction. We don't really see what he wants in life, we just know that he looked at his family and went "NOT THAT". However, his entire identity is still formed in response to his family's abuse. Even when he gets farther away from them, Killua doesn't really do what he wants, he does what Gon wants, and follows around Gon.

However, it's very understandable why Killua doesn't act with a lot of agency, when Killua does try to make decisions his family always shows up to undermine him and make another attempt to emotionally manipulate him into doing what they want. It's not always Illumi showing up to spook him. Silva pretends to be a loving dad for five minutes and has a heart to heart conversation with his son, and lets his son go adventuring with his friends but that too is a manipulation. He only did so to make sure Killua would eventually come back, by giving Killua more positive memories that would make it harder to make the decision to leave the family.

With the extent that Killua's family goes to sabotage any decision he makes, it's no wonder Killua is so passive and afraid to make his own decisions. It's almost like a character flaw he's gotta work on.

Now here's where I'm going to blow your minds. Megumi is an incredibly similar character to Killua, they are both the victims of longterm grooming however people don't like to acknowledge Megumi's victimhood. That's because in Killua's case, his abuser looks and acts like this.

Killua's abuser Illumi is a creepy guy who looks like the girl from the grudge, telling him he's not allowed to make friends and giving off such rancid vibes that he's obviously a bad guy. Whereas, Megumi's groomer this this guy.

Gojo Satoru who is one of the most popular characters in the series, and who also gives speeches about how he wants to let children be able to live out their youths, which is why it's hard for the fandom to see that he has taken advantage of Megumi and stolen his youth away from him pretty much the same way that Silva / Illumi has for Killua.

Megumi, like Killua has no choice in who he wants to be when he grows up, or what kind of person he wants to grow into. Megumi, like Killua has been groomed for a young age and forced into an incredibly dangerous and life threatening job that he does not want to do, that denies him the chance of a normal life, and that does not really allow him to make many friends. Megumi is railroaded onto this path, not by his choice, but by Toji's choice, and later Gojo's choice... because he has potential. Megumi like Killua cannot leave his family and stop being a sorcerer, otherwise his little sister who is the only family member he cares about will be hurt.

Gojo doesn't show up with an evil aura looking like the grudge girl and telling Megumi that he doesn't have the right to make friends, and that he's inherently evil and a puppet that only exists to kill people though so it's harder to tell that Megumi is a victim of the same kind of grooming that has hurt Killua so thoroughly.

This is what I mean when I say a lot of Megumi's characterization flies over your head because his victimization is written really subtly. Gojo does the same thing that Illumi / Silva does to Killua, he may seem like a stand up guy compared to those two but Megumi has about as much choice about what he can do with his life that Killua has.

Not all grooming is Illumi showing up with his spooky eyes to intimidate and coerce Killua into submission. Silva shows up to give Killua the first fatherly talk he had in his life, and lets him go from the mansion.... not because he realized he was wrong for restricting Killua's life choices and giving him no choice but to become heir.

No, it was a ploy to guilt trip him into coming back because he knew if he held Killua there by force he'd just run away the next chance he got. Fear and intimidation wasn't working at keeping Killua in line, so they switched to love instead.

Gojo can encourage Megumi to make friends, let him hang out and spend time with Itadori, even honor his wish to save Itadori and in the end still be manipulating him into becoming a sorcerer and not letting Megumi choose what he wants to do with his life. Gojo just prefers the carrot to the stick.

This is something the databooks confirm, that Gojo hunts prospects like Yuta, Yuji and Megumi not out of the goodness of his heart, but because they are talented students he can recruit to his cause with the added bonus that by appearing as their savior, they "owe" him.

Megumi is also a character lacking in agency, he is someone who's had no agency his entire life and what little agency he did have was stolen away from him by the adults in his life.

Let's analyze Megumi's situation for a second. As soon as Megumama dies, Toji gives up on the idea of fatherhood entirely, and decides to sell his son, literally, like in the sense of human trafficking to be raised by the highly abusive Zen'in Clan.

However, before the deal could be completed his father died in the middle of a mission. Megumi apparently saw his father so little that he didn't recognize him on coming face to face with him years alter, which says a lot about what kind of role Toji played in Megumi's life before he was outright abandoned.

Not only does Megumi believe his father just left him to run away with his new wife (Megumi's stepmother and the mother of Tsumiki) but now he and Tsumiki had to live together in a household without supervision for an indeterminate amount of time and watch their money slowly run out.

When it looks like they're about to start starving, Gojo Satoru shows up to save the day.... or not.

Gojo seems like he's offering Megumi a choice, but it's a loaded one. There's no choice in this scenario where Megumi gets to be a normal kid. The option of calling social services so this orphaned child does not starve doesn't occur to him.

Megumi's options are a) go to the Zen'in Clan and be a sorcerer where Tsumiki will be abused, or b) be a sorcerer under me where Tsumiki will be safe. The unspoken part is that if Megumi rejects his offer not only will he just let the Zen'in Take him, he'll also probably just let Megumi starve. Megumi the uh six or so year old child at this point has to sign away the rest of his life as a sorcerer, and work in order to earn money to eat.

No adult is taking care of Megumi, no one is raising him, even the food and shelter Megumi is given comes with a price tag that he has to pay back by being a Jujutsu Sorcerer and attending Jujutsu High as a teenager. Gojo even kind of subtly uses Tsumiki as a hostage to get Megumi to join with his agenda, because his offer isn't really much better than the Zen'ins but he needs Megumi on his side because he needs to raise kids to be future allies to his political agenda.

At the tender age of six Megumi signed his life away to be a sorcerer and he hasn't looked back since. Considering his severe behavioral problems getting into fights constantly at school, I think it's safe to say Megumi is about as reluctant to be a sorcerer as Killua is an assassin.

Honestly, if Megumi had phrased it like this:

"I'm so tired of being a sorcerer, I just want to be a kid."

Megumi would have a lot more fans, and Gojo would have a lot of explaining to do, but I think the brilliance of Megumi's grooming is that it's not really as blatant as Killua's. Megumi doesn't talk out loud about how he wants to be a normal kid, he's just angry at the whole world, and prone to fits of violence because he's mentall unwell.

Another way in which he parallels Killua, by the way.

Megumi does not talk about his lost childhood out loud. Instead of knowing his thoughts on the matter, instead we are shown his behavior, the effects of having his childhood taken away from him and how unstable it makes him and left to ponder as the audience what Megumi himself thinks of this.

The same way that Illumi steals all of Killua's agency away, robbing him of the chance to be anything other than what the Zoldycks want him to be, so to does Gojo. It's just instead of Gojo using the stick, he uses the carrot. He is Megumi's benefactor, he's the savior, for whose help Megumi owes him, sort of like repaying a loan with interest.

Gojo tries to shape Megumi into Gojo Satoru 2.0. Or maybe a second Geto. That's more likely as it's Geto defection which inspires Gojo to go looking for him after neglecting to do anything about Megumi until a year after finding out about his existence. Gojo says that Megumi is going to have to work hard or else he'll be left behind, just days after Geto had left him behind. Megumi is helped by Gojo, he is protected from the clans by Gojo, he has been taken on missions alongside Gojo his entire life, Maki even refers to Megumi as a treasure that was raised carefully by him.

Gojo invests a lot of time and effort into Megumi and because of that Megumi is expected to "perform." However, he doesn't.

That's the thing, Megumi is supposed to be either Gojo or Geto 2.0 but he just can't be. THe reason why again is Agency. If Killua is limited because of his inability to decide for himself, then so to is Megumi b/c Nen and Cursed Technique Development both depend on things like imagination, ego and self-image to raise them up to their full potential.

However, Gojo has shot himself in the foot with regards to Megumi. Becoming a Jujutsu Sorcerer requires a strong identity, but Gojo by sabotaging Megumi's agency and ability to decide for himself every step of the way has robbed Megumi of the chance to form that strong identity.

Megumi, just like Killua has no sense of self and instead both judges himself according to others, how he meets their expectations, how he measures up to them - he also glorifies others while constantly putting himself down.

Megumi doesn't give speeches about how Yuji is like pure light, but he also refuses to let Yuji out of his sight post Shibuya, and even says it'd be better to be killed by Sukuna alongside Yuji if Sukuna does take over.

In the Chimera Ant Arc Killua defines all of his self-worth around being useful to Gon, and beats himself up for not being able to measure up to him - because Killua has no sense of self his selfhood has always been undermined by his family who wanted to make him more suggestible to what they wanted.

Megumi is flippant with his own life and very willing to lay down his life for another's sake, because Megumi has very little agency in his life and has been taught by both Gojo and his circumstances that he himself and what he wants does not matter. Megumi doesn't fight fate, and fight for what he wants because he's already been shot in the kneecaps by both Toji's abandonment, and Gojo Satoru, and he's having a difficult time just trying to stand with bullets in his knees.

Maybe, the reason Megumi is so willing to risk his life to summon Mahoraga and sacrifice himself if he thinks it will help his allies is because Megumi has been forced into a job where he's gonig to be expected to sacrifice his life for the greater good since the tender age of six years old and therefore everything in life has conspired to tell him his life is worth less than others.

Yuji isn't the first person in story to think of himself as a cog, that's Megumi. He doesn't even need Shibuya to beat him down to accept the cog mindset, Megumi is already there at the beginning of the story.

I think a lot of misunderstanding of Megumi's character comes from the fact that his grooming is more subtle and insidious, and not as blatant as Killua's, and also that it's done by a character well-liked by the fandom. However, if Megumi has all the same symptoms of Killua then it's logical to deduce that they share the same trauma

Even Megumi's summoning of Mahoraga has a tie to Killua.

There's a pattern of KIllua running away from stronger opponent that's established in HXH that's eventually revealed to be because of a needle that Illumi inserted directly into Killua's brain to mind control him to run if he faced someone that was too much of a threat.

Obviously, that's just continuing the metaphor of the fact that Killua isn't able to believe in himself to face people who are stronger, because Illumi has been constantly putting him down his entire life.

Isn't this essentially what Megumi does as well?

When Megumi is faced with an opponent that's too strong or a hopeless situation, instead of running like Killua he summons Mahoraga. He does this because he doesn't believe in his ability to surpass his limits and fight, because he doesn't believe in himself or his own potential.

When is actually able to think more freely and picture a version of himself who can surpass his limits and who can do these things - these are the moments he is shown to grow.

Megumi however, for the most part isn't free. He can't think of himself as free and he can't free himself, because not only does he still have no choice about what he wants to do with his life (even if he becomes the msot powerful sorcerer in the world Gojo won't let him quit, he's gotta pay off those student loans), but he's also internalized the idea that he's not free. Not only has Gojo raised him to be a cog, Megumi has also accepted the fact that he is a cog and what he wants does not matter - the most he can do is hope that his actions will protect the people he loves and give them a little bit of happiness.

Megumi doesn't need a needle in his brain to control him and make him run away from fights and more obedient, because Megumi has already done all of that to himself with the toxic and self-harming ideas he's internalized.

Megumi and Killua having given up on themselves, try to make others happy, the same people they put on pedestals in order to make themselves feel even worse in comparison.

However, from this point Megumi and Killuas arcs go in opposite directions. You see after the Chimera Ant Arc when Killua hits his lowest point and his codependent friendship with Gon is exposed for what it is, Killua returns home in order to try and rescue his sister Alluka who is probably the reason he ran away in the first place.

Alluka and Tsumiki are both at the start of the story taken away from Killua and Megumi respectively, and with them the only genuine familial affection they ever enjoyed in their lives is taken too.

However, Alluka and Tsumiki are inversions. Alluka finds her freedom and agency, and Killua is able to reform his connection with his sister by accepting both pats of her, Alluka and Nanika. Afterwards the two of them finally leave their family home together and go off on a journey together.

If Alluka finds her personhood, Tsumiki remains a plot device. She never awakens from her coma, she's possessed instead and then murdered.

Now, here is where I point out how unfair the audience is being to Megumi. If you're a hunter x hunter fan remember all the character development that Killua gained by reforging his relationship with Alluka, how much confidence it gave him to connect to the one person who's even unconditionally loved him as a family member.

Now imagine that Alluka is brutally butchered right in front of him, and Killua has a first person point of view, because somehow in this scenario Illumi used a needle to mind control him into killing Alluka.

Do you really think Killua would be able to stand after that?

Sukuna is really just the last in line of a long line of people who've stolen Megumi's agency away from him, in order to benefit themselves. Sukuna even saw the same "potential" in Megumi that Gojo did.

Sukuna physically posessing Megumi's body, is just what both the Zen'in Clan, and Gojo Satoru have been trying to do to him in the most literal way possible. Gojo wants to remake Megumi into Gojo Satoru 2.0 with no regards to who Megumi is as a person, what Megumi's wants and needs are. No he just wants to raise someone as strong as him and pass the burden of protecting society onto Megumi, this starving orphan Gojo decided to exploit.

People have always used Megumi as a puppet for their own agenda, Naobito wanted to make him the head of the Zen'in Clan because he had the technique, Gojo wanted him to become the next strongest sorcerer / Gojo Satoru and also to replace the elders with Gojo's political agenda. They all want Megumi's "potential" for themselves to use to their own ends. Sukuna just takes what Gojo did one step further by literally stealing Megumi's body away from him and using him as a literal puppet instead of a metaphorical one. Gojo took Megumi's childhood by making him work as a sorcerer, Sukuna kills the physical embodiment of Megumi's childhood innocence by murdering Tsumiki, the only thing Megumi had in his life besides being a sorcerer, his only family, the only person he grew up with in his childhood years, the only person who loved him for who he was.

Megumi coped with what Gojo did to him the same way Killua did, by building himself around his use to others, and by building his identity around protecting others but now that's all gone. Tsumiki is gone, Megumi is trying to kill his friends, and he's already butchered Gojo Satoru.

Yet the fans are surprised that Megumi doesn't immediately get back on his feet.

However, and this my slightly optimistic ending to the post. Perhaps, Megumi is going the complete opposite of Killua, because what Megumi needed to learn was not to grow strong and confident enough to protect his sister but to learn to fight for himself.

At this point Megumi has nothing else left. It's sink of swim. He either develops a strong enough identity to regain control of his body and push Sukuna out, or he loses and the anti-Sukuna team will just have to resort to killing Megumi along with Sukuna.

Even in that case.

Megumi not being saved by Yuji is a good thing.

Because a victim who gets rescued by a hero still has no agency.

Megumi told Yuji that he needs to start by "saving me."

However, it might just be the opposite. Before Megumi can save anyone else, before he can become a protector, he has to find his own power and save himself. He has to both accept thathe's someone worthy of salvation, and at the same time he can't just passively accept the hand that Yuji's offered to him he has to actively be the one to break free of Sukuna and save himself.

Megumi can't become the strongest sorcerer by becoming the next Gojo Satoru or being what Gojo or Sukuna wants him to be. THe only way Megumi can become the strongest, is by being himself.

#jjk meta #hxh meta #megumi fushiguro #killua zoldyck #gojo satoru #illumi zoldyck #ryomen sukuna #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen spoilers

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charles-leclerizz · 5 months

Text

ꕤ — DESERT OASIS

recording : date_number #1

THE FIRST DATE ON THE RECORD - NOT COUNTING THE THREE IN THE VAULT

word count : 788 words

reading time : 3 minutes 19 seconds

Masterlist · 🪷 Aisha · 🪷 Porsche F1 Team · 🪷

their playlist · 🪷 the relationships · 🪷 their relationship · 🪷 their pinterest board

" You think they saw us ? " aisha whispered, grasping her clutch to her waist as lando winded a hand around her waist and guided her up the steps of the ritz-carlton.

He snorted against her and placed a kiss on her exposed neck whilst plucking the keys of her Porsche from her hand to drop them into the obedient valet who stood patiently for them.

" I would be worried if they didn't "

His words seemed to work as a prayer, impromptu flashes and unintelligible shouts surrounded the couple who merely squeezed closer together whilst aisha glanced apologetically at the worker who was navigating the crowd with her car.

" You summoned them, " she hissed into his ear, smiling at the odd, matte black barrells that were aimed at her.

Lando chuckled, raising a hand up to take her chin into his grasp and pressed his lips against her cheek, his mouth raising into a cheeky smirk, " yea well, they're rabid dogs. "

She hummed in answer, laying her forehead against his shoulder tiredly, " can we go in now ? " aisha whined, her vision blurring at the startling beams of light increased tenfold.

Lando nodded, glancing down at her, " lets go. " he tutted his head in acknowledgement at the paparazzi before taking her hand and guiding them through the threshold of the resort.

" Date number 3 and they've just begun to post about us " aisha giggled down at her phone and twisted her wrist to show the man who sat in front of her the app.

" Is that what these are ? " lando grins back, " I just thought I was getting to look at a pretty woman for a large fee. " he shrugs as he leans back and takes in the late evening city scape.

The sprawling metropolis sat alight beyond them from the perch of the dinner table, the glistening lights from the various buildings illuminated the private meal from the rooftop restaurant they shared.

" A large fee ? honey, it's payment for being able to look at a pretty woman "

He laughed at that and reached over the table to take her hand in his whilst running his thumb over the gentle idents of her knuckles, " hmmm " he kissed each finger purposefully, " I guess you're right. "

" You've changed norris. " aisha cocked her head affectionately as she slipped her fingers out of his hold and ran them through his curls.

" I would hope so. last time we were together, we were just 15 years old. "

" You know what I mean." she sighs, " drivers are meant to be man whores, sleeping around and arrogant while they do it. you're nothing like what I heard. "

" And here I thought you were focusing on your career. "

" I am- but it's hard to ignore the journalists. "

Lando leaned back in his chair before jutting his foot out to nudge her heeled one, " well then lucky me, " he leaned his head onto his palm whilst the other came to wrap around his empty wrist, " because I'm perfectly happy with you. "

" You're too much of a flirt for your own good, " she arched a brow at him from over the rim of her wine glass, the sweet and perky alcohol slipped down her throat slowly as his eyes watched the nape of her neck like a python and its prey.

" You fell for it. " he argued, hazel eyes glinting.

" Fell for it ? jury's still out on that one. " she slid out of her chair, pushing away from their empty plates as she sauntered out towards the lip of the roof, pristine glass protected her from the far drop as a cool breeze swept by.

The gold silk of her dress rippled, and the swooping cut of her back tickled the dimples of her hips whilst the thin chain skimmed her spine. Leaning forward, aisha braced her elbows on the glass before she glanced behind her and bit her lip at lando who was approaching her from his place.

His shadow overtook her space as he leaned down to her ear and whispered, " never got the opportunity to appreciate your outfit tonight, " his fingers trailed down to the seam of where the fabric embraced the arch of her back, " it's perfect. " he purred.

" I never fuck up an ensemble norris, you better learn that quick. " she twisted in his hold and tucked her nose into his neck, " it's best for you. "

" yes ma'am " he mumbled against her.

MUTUALS GET INSTANT TAGS [@vroomvroomcircuit, @disneyprincemuke, @verstappen-cult, @starkwlkr, @sailing-with-100-ships, @foreveralbon, @lorarri], OTHERS [@weekendlusting, @woozarts, @mellowarcadefun, @paintedbypoetry, @33-81, @kazuha-pista-badam, @inejghafawifesblog,d3kstar, @itsjustkhaos, @tremendousstarlighttragedy, @xoscar03,@nichmeddar, @sisinever], IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, PLEASE SEND IN AN ASK !

[NOTE ! i'm not too good at staying on top of tagging, so if you notice that I haven't tagged you, please let me know since i can add you to my list, which is ever growing]

directors note's : oh oh oh, here we are people, welcome to the first of 5 cute-sy dates from the paddocks it couple ! i just thought these would be nice to fill the silence between episodes [ which btw, i have not started writing ep 2. life really fucking sucks ] please let me know if you love this couple as much as i do. or if you havve some theories about their future. it's yap-central in my inbox so come one, come all

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ventismacchiato · 2 years

Text

O1 behind the lens — kicking my feet and giggling !

scaramouche x g!n reader

“When you said we were going out for a meal I didn’t think you meant a cat cafe,” you mused as you slid into the seat Kuni pulled out for you.

“You mentioned you liked cats during class,” Kuni shrugs, sitting across from you and flinching as a cat jumps up onto his lap almost immediately. You were a little envious…whether it be of him or the cat you didn’t know.

“I have a cat,” you grin, always eager to show anyone your precious baby. You hold back though since Kuni doesn’t seem the type, but much to your surprise he kept up with you as you swiped through your photo album dedicated to you and your roommates’ cat.

“Cute,” he hums, a soft smile on his face as you put your phone away.

“Me or the cat?”

“Both,” he easily says, mindlessly petting the creature in his hands.

You feel you cheeks heat up at his comment, hiding your face behind the menu as he snickers at your reactions.

“You’re so fucking easy to fluster.”

“No, it’s just you.”

“Oh?”

“Shut up—”

“I’m sure you’d like that.”

“Shut up!”

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

background info for kuniyn you both have the same major and are in the same photography class and became friends after being paired for multiple projects together

everyone other than scarayn use their public accounts to reply to private tweets but the fans don’t see them just pretend 😇

have only been to a cat cafe once in my life LITERALLY SO FUN cures ur depression fr

made the message icons different than the twt ones so it’s more fun

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

author’s notes — finals are over 🔥 kinda jumping in cus in order for the au to start i gotta build on their existing off camera relationship which is HARD but i hope it’s good 😓

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @heehooyeslol @stxrgxzxr @lilneps @uma-umie @lynnforever @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @camiluvsreading @cloudxemoji @thenightsflower @p1utto @caesars-bubbles @lxry-chxn @orbitscara @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @satowaluverr @lexlapis @drunkwithfever @remiikoe @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @just-here-reading @amoguz @ainlaw @ovaliz @depressedwhore @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @bunny-x-sakura @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @vinskypuff @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko [1/3]

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1800-page-not-found · 2 years

Note

hello author (＾▽＾)

can I ask you to write vampire reader x human Yjh and Kdj relationship hc i thing it's would be interesting

HI!! THIS IS SUCH A CUTE RELATIONSHIP!

btw this is going to be a healthy relationship, im not a huge fan of writing toxic/abusive relationships ykyk

HELP I DIDN'T REALIZE YOU SAID HC AND IM ALREADY 3/4 IN WRITING EVERYTHING...ITS OK ILL JUST DO BOTH LMFAO

human yoo joonghyuk, kim dokja (separate) x vampire reader

summary: the awful sun...it burns! thus, your lover decides to (somehow) give you a coat that has sun resistance so you can finally step out.

Yoo Joonghyuk is a ruthless man. However, during his regressions, he came to find you, a vampire. And what was so interesting about you is that, you were a vampire before the apocalypse. At first he brought you along only because he found you useful. But then, when he was able to clear more and more scenarios with you, he started to develop these 'strange feelings' he calls them.

Being a vampire was a struggle for you. After all, there were so many people around you, it was hard to resist. you usually drank animal blood from the nearby butcher, but when the apocalypse hit, you lost your supply. But when you met him, Yoo Joonghyuk, everything changed.

Blood is like wine. The more it ages, the better it tastes. So, as a regressor, Yoo Joonghyuk's blood was amazing. Of course, he killed you the first few times he met you, but started warming up.

Now, as the relationship developed, and when you two started dating after, what, 7 regressions? Well, he realized it was hard for you to join him completing scenarios with your weakness of the sun.

He scoffed, "weak." he muttered under his breath as he turned away from you.

His actions were very different though. A week later, he brought a coat that looked almost identical to his, except in a beige color, and with different attributes. Yours made you gain sun resistance.

You cried when you stepped out in the sun, feeling warmth from the fiery ball for the first time. You hugged him dearly, thanking him over and over again.

Yoo Joonghyuk was shocked to say the least. As a man who's unfamiliar with such emotions, he awkwardly patted your back. He never realized how much this meant to you. After all, vampires have feelings to.

headcannons here

he definitely gets the coat first thing when he regresses

since the scent of blood is so strong to you, he will use his coat to wrap you up and calm you down

Where SP exists, YJH definitely gets jealous whenever SP gifts something to you at the exact time you need it.

ur blood bag, he volunteers

every time he regresses, its really weird

like just imagine some super over powered hot guy comes to you and says like-

"Let me be your blood bag i love you" or something LMAOOOO

Nah he wouldn't do that (he probably might)

It would be really awkward though because he'd try to like move the relationship really fast cuz he just wants to date you and hold hands and other lovey-dovey stuff

he's awkward in general

definitely has killed before to give you blood

brought back a bucket of blood once

you didn't drink it because like STDs yk

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

Kim Dokja was like a child asking Santa Claus questions about Christmas when he first met you (pre apocalypse btw). I mean, you're just like the characters in his favorite novel!

It was an accident when he found out. I mean its not normal seeing your co-worker drink animal blood and eat raw animal meat is it? And i mean... it was pretty odd everyday when you came to work all bundled up.

When the apocalypse hit, the two of you were both on the train/subway. You were breathing heavily, trying to control yourself. He gave his coat to you and put it on top of your head, blocking your vision. Few minuets later, he gave you a grasshopper to kill.

Later on, after he became 'Demon King of Salvation,' he met 'Mass Production Maker' at the Gourmet Association when they were viewing the scenario and talking.

(I cant remember all they way how Mass Production Maker acts fyi)

"Mass Production Maker sir, I'd like to ask for a favor." It was rare for someone like the Demon King of Salvation to ask for a favor, well unless it was you. "Oh? And what may someone like you ask for from an old man like me?" Mass Production Maker did not take his eyes off the scenario, but you could tell he was listening to the rather newly born constellation.

"There's someone very dear to me who needs a rather special coat...I know you don't really do commissions but-" The Mass Production Maker laughed an old hearty laugh. "My, my, what young love folks like you have! How enjoyable! I like you young man, make sure to stay loyal, I'll do it for free as you helped me earn so many coins from the bet!" (I think that's what happened if I remember correctly?)

-----

when you two finally met again, Kim Dokja wrapped you in a lovely beige coat, just like his. "What is this?" you asked curiously. "A coat for you to step out in the sun!" You gasped. "R-really?! I can finally go outside?.."

He nodded and dragged you right next to where the shadows met the sun. You stopped, nervous to if this would work or not. Kim Dokja turned around and held your face. "Hey..It's going to work, I promise." He assured you.

[The constellation, "Demonic Judge of Fire" squeals in happiness.]

[500 coins have been sponsored]

"Alright then..." You slowly stepped out in the sun, eyes shut as you waited to burn but-you didn't? You slowly opened your eyes, your senses feeling the warmth on your face. "I'm-I'm in the SUN!" You jumped and hugged Kim Dokja. "Thank you Thank you!" You cried, tears running down your face. You could finally feel the warmth you longed for with him under the sun.

Headcannons!!!!!

Likes to give you blood

wants you to just drink all of his blood, i mean its not like he can't revive

Flabbergasted when you cried when he was dead for 3 days

He likes to hug you because you're always cold (cuz ur a vampire...ykyk)

Had a HUGEEEEEEE cultural (or vampire) shock when you didn't bite his neck but his hand instead

and the silver thing

and garlic

becomes a huge vampire nerd

will correct people when they say something wrong about vampires

outsiders will think HE'S the vampire because of how much he talks about them

likes to be carried bridal style by you with your super strength vampire abilities

first time you two ate together at a restaurant when he knew you were a vampire, he asked for a raw slab of meat with lots of blood

the waiter looked at him weirdly

everyone in the restaurant stared at the two of you

you guys got banned from it

THE ENDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

#kim dokja x reader #kim dokja #x vampire reader #orv x reader #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #omniscient reader's viewpoint x reader #kdj #kdj x reader #yoo joonghyuk #yoo joonghyuk x reader #yjh x reader #yjh #manhwa x reader

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didyoulookforme · 4 months

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❛ i need to come. please, i'll do anything. ❜

With post Matty 🤭

-Sugar-coat-it <3 <3 <3

here is the first of the blurbs. more to come!

smutty non-sensical ramble below. sorry for any spelling and grammar errors.

having your boyfriend be in a band meant that he’d go on tour from time to time. you were used to it by now. it came with dating a musician. however, you weren’t used to the one condition he gave you before leaving that night.

“just don’t touch yourself while i’m away, alright sweet?”

you remember the way matty licked and bit his bottom lip right after those words left his mouth, giving you a kiss before closing the door and departing for nearly a month.

um, okay…

-----

now, fast forward to the end of may, 27 days and 645 hours later and minutes prior to hopping onstage for his last gig, he has you pinned against the brick wall of the alleyway next door, satin dress bunched up at your hips, and his dick buried deep between your legs, giving you exactly what you had missed the most.

had the waiting been hard? definitely. had it been worth it? absolutely. the sensation when he first touched your clit again made you shudder from head to toe, itself almost enough to make you come right then and there. you had to wait, though. you need him to fuck you senseless to make up for the restless mornings spent with clenched, sore thighs. it’s your screwed up version of heaven at this point in time.

you notice the lipstick smeared across his mouth, its cool red tint near identical to that of his swollen lips and almost too damn perfect to touch. but you can't help yourself. you drag your right thumb across his bottom lip, tugging at it until the colour spreads across his cheek, that familiar glint in his eye letting you know that it absolutely drove him mad, as well.

“baby,” he pulls your hair in need of attention, “you feel so damn good right now.”

that certainly doesn't help with your crippling need to come, but fuck, you swear you’ve never seen him so eager to please, holding on to your waist like his life depends on it as he shamelessly buries himself into you. it's all too much.

“i need to come. please, i'll do anything.”

you didn’t mind begging anymore. he got off on it, anyway.

“just be my good girl and hold on a bit longer, ‘kay?”

the small whimpers from your lips only make him tease you more, swiping his tongue across your flushed cheek and followed by thousands of kisses peppered on your face.

“matty, please. it’s been so lon–ah fuck fuck.”

yet he still somehow finds the strength to thrust harder despite your pleas.

“jus–just a bit more. you can do it sweet girl. i know you can hold off for me.”

he laughs at your mumbling mix of groans and moans against his neck, seemingly too fucked out to lift your head upright anymore. there’s a clear wet spot on the collar of his shirt from the spit falling from your mouth but you honestly couldn’t care less at this moment. all that’s on your mind is the feeling of him rutting inside you, hitting that spot that he never fails to find. thank fucking god.

”y’know, sweet?”

it takes all of your concentration to breathe out a pathetic ‘yes'.

“i-i didn’t touch myself either,” he admits against your ear, fingers softly combing through your hair, “while i was gone.”

your boyfriend abstaining from jerking off? no. fucking. way.

“i can play nice, too.”

you are gone.

your hips frantically grind against your control. those imaginary white speckles form inside your eyelids from holding them shut so tight. the pulsing pressure between your legs enough to make him fall apart and take him along to that special place where only the two of your exist.

matty matty matty.

his fingernails digging into your skin. his whimpers heavy against your lips. the warmth of his cum spilling inside you. it was all him.

"oh my fucking god, darling. sh–shit."

you chuckle at the way your body trembles against his, pretty sure that if he wasn’t there you’d fall flat on your face. but it seems like he isn’t faring much better, his own limbs shaking underneath him as his own orgasm lingers on, a mess of curls mindlessly burying into your chest.

and once he slips out, you instantly feel his cum drip down your leg, something he’s obviously aware of as he keeps mumbling apology after apology between sweet, breathy laughs.

“you’re so not fucking sorry, matthew.”

“mmm. know me all too well, darling.”

that you did and you were forever thankful for it, however it doesn’t stop you from playfully shoving him away, only for him to immediately come back and kiss you for the millionth time that night. yeah, you definitely missed having his so close.

you lift up your dress to see your thighs covered in his cum, strings of it slowly falling down your skin. "um... not really sure what to do about this now."

“can always give you more if you want.”

“you fucking wish,” (honestly you did, too.)

to your surprise he takes off his shirt, kneeling down and dragging the dark fabric to wipe your skin clean, not stopping from licking some of it himself.

“there.” he looks you up and down, “think that’s a bit better, sweet.”

and you know that him using his favourite mazzy star shirt was his own strange matty way to say ‘i love you.’

#so sorry if this is not good!#just over here pretending to write diary entries for my smutty dream life with matty healy #smutty prompts #messages #postmatty au #postmatty asks #smutty asks #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #matty healy imagine #matty healy fic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfic #mw

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mexipoopy · 4 months

Text

On Repeat - OC Tag Stuff

I was tagged by @acidheaddd to do this and AH thank you I've been mulling over this A LOT and it really made me think hard on my OCs and their stories. Credits to @elderwisp(a cool guy) for the idea.

OK! Onto the LORE

Ai [FSU -BigKlit]

1 shot, 2 shot, 3 shot, 4 Fuck it up, I wanna see the bodies hit the floor 5 shot, 6 shot, 7 shot, 8 We don't give a fuck, we burning down the whole place Fuck shit up, I wanna fuck shit up, I wanna fuck shit up

Rage, rage, rage. That's definitely a word to describe this guy. Ai is very aggressive due to good old trauma~* but despite his violent tendencies he's full of highly energized spite and fun, so this song encapsulates his personality pretty accurately with its fast pace and aggressive lyrics. A fist with a bright shining smile to accompany it.

Marisol [Holy Weather -Civil Twilight]

It’s not too late to go home Passion is this weight on my shoulders So why did you follow me into this den When all the bluest stars paint your name In a sky of black You must go back

Are you lost little soul? Marisol is a bit of a wanderer, who lets her curiosity dictate her actions. But where that curiosity leads her is full of a darkness that beckons her soul to light her path. She is constantly told to turn back by many colorful characters, despite this, she persists. There is a particular entity who crosses paths with her soul and is unable to escape her tenacity. This song with its regretful lyrics and soft instrumentals, parallel the dynamic of her affect on those around her especially the one that holds her soul closest to theirs and the consequences that happen because of it.

Isaiah [Daydreaming -Radiohead]

Beyond the point Of no return Of no return Then it's too late The damage is done The damage is done This goes Beyond me Beyond you

Liminal. Inhuman. Existence. Isaiah, if that is his true identity, is an individual full of whimsical mysteries and questions. What happens when a person dies, and who will lead us into the afterlife? Will the reaper come to aid us in our desperate confusion upon our passing? Where will you go? This song, compels the listener to wander and be lured by its ethereal instrumentals and the darkness that looms around it, much like how the darkness and uncertainty of death lingers among the living.

Jasper [You Don't Own Me -Tamino]

You may keep me hеre You seem to know just how To pin me to the ground Each timе you come around Take away my home Obscuring what I am And plague me all night long And lay claim to freedom's song

What good is greed if you don't possess yourself? Even the strongest can fall folly to abusive, parasitic relationships. Jasper, even in his conception was never meant to enjoy the freedom of individuality. Being a prisoner inside his own body and shackled by family ties and a predatory lover that only wishes to possess him, his autonomy is never of his own volition. Still, his soul persists, fighting and gnashing at every opportunity to break free from those that hold him captive. This song is one of rebelling to that which wants to possess and control you, which bears a haunting resemblance to Jasper's own struggles.

Anabelle [Do You Feel Real -Sevdaliza]

I thought I'd heal from you Or you'd escaped from me Maybe I'm too scared to forget you I just can't remember how it feels like to function without Absorbed in total free fall It's a waste of time It's not that serious

My void is one that comforts and cures a loneliness that it causes. What do you do when the only thing that comforts you is the presence of evil? When that is all that you are used to? Anabelle was born spreading death and misery wherever she went. But why? Is it the shadow that follows her and protects her as everything else withers away? Accompanied by low and drawn out instrumentals, the lyrics of this song perpetuate a relationship that is parasitic and addictive in nature, one that you thought you overcame but it persists. Anabelle craves love from the living and dreads the darkness that lingers and keeps her isolated. Still, she is plagued by her need to have it close or else her loneliness will destroy her.

Ira [Daisy -Brand New]

I'm a mountain that has been moved I'm a river that is all dried up I'm an ocean nothing floats on I'm a sky that nothing wants to fly in I'm a sun that doesn't burn hot I'm a moon that never shows its face I'm a mouth that doesn't smile I'm a word that no one ever wants to say

I am nothing. I crave to become everything. Ira is an anomaly. He exists but in a plane that no living creature can exist, all he knows, he knows from a dream that connects to his. She is beautiful, living, while he is nothing. Envy feeds his hunger, but nothing ever happens. HE shouldn't exist, yet he does. A paradox, much like the message of this song. The dream persists and reminds him that he should exist. But why is he here and not there? Maybe she can help him become real, and not a dream.

_________________________________

AND that's it for that lol! I have way more characters that I have music for (but i don't have official finalized sim versions of them) so i just included these guys for now, I could include my Envidia story characters but i felt like this post is pretty long as it is sajkfa my bad. LOL all my song choices are existential/depressing save for Ai, because he's built different lol.

#oc: ai #oc: marisol #oc: isaiah #oc: jasper #oc: anabelle #oc: ira #ts4 #ts4: sim #tag game #SIDENOTE: fucking TOOL is amazing but posing sims is still a big pain in the ass in game #i cry #anyway this was a lot of fun thanks again for the tag!

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stuck-writing-sickos · 2 months

Text

Lucid (prologue)

(Yandere reader insert)

[Series Link]

[A/n: can be a standalone series. Mermaid (?) AU for In Poor Taste. I dont... know if I'm gonna include Lukas. But dw, that means there will be rooms for new characters.]

If you want to run away, why not come into his arms?

You didn't know how to stay away from water. Something about its shimmer reeled you in. You particularly loved the ocean - cool and blue like liquid diamond, its depth called for you like an aching lullaby. Your intrigue was barey cocealed, so it came as a surprise for no one that you took diving lessons the moment you moved to your seaside apartment. Sure, it was hard work for your body who took the brunt of your day job as a bankteller, but your pursuit for the deep was restless.

You weren't by any mean a natural, but you were a resilient learner. Silent like a stone, you geared up and followed the elegant movements of your teacher. You were clumsy at first, taken by surprise upon the strength of the water, but once you got the hang of it your heart beat in a melody unheard. The cold water, the coral, the bustling marine life... you were enchanted beyond saving. Abandoning your social life and any prospect of romance, you let yourself be entranced by the ocean's glamor.

Something that your instructor neglected to tell you, though, was the call of the deep. She likely assumed that you were too serious and cautious to do deep dives. After all, you were not one of much words. You didn't even realize that you were swimming downward. You saw blue, and you saw darkness. You felt air bubble floating against your momentum. Yet, a gear in your head still turned to push you forward. You remembered the unprecedented euphoria you felt before the strong arm of your fellow diver, Jung, caught you mid-torso and pulled you backward. In a trance, you were blindsided as air hit your face. Jung's voice sounded far away when he cussed out "fuck, you scared me bad with that one".

You didn't dive for a while after as per his recommendation. The ocean was going nowhere, Jung said, but you might. To distract you, he took you to art galleries and painted with you in your free time. He was a poor painter, but he would do it for your sake. You asked if he wanted you to write prose with him in return, to which he laughed and said there was no need, and that you ought not to peruse his manuscript anyway. Plus, he liked being around you when you painted - he affirmed - your shades of blue were haunting, in a good way. You asked what he meant, but all you got back was "it's good inspiration for my novel".

Jung wasn't vocal about his works. He never let you know his pen name. You tried to respect his privacy, but your curiosity got the better of you. During your time spent away from the ocean you dug for his works. It was only by chance that you managed to get your hand on them. In secret you snooped around his apartment when he invited you over for dinner and found his own signature in a book. His pen name was Haiyang. You supposed that was within reasons - he too loved the sea. Purchasing a physical copy behind his back, you decided to read it to get your mind going. Then, you understood the secrecy: he was still in the closet. His writing, dealing with themes of body horror and doppelganger, betrayed an exasperated effort to overcome self-hatred.

You wanted to let him know that he had your support, but instead you didn't say anything - you breached his trust by reading his novels. Quietly sticking by his side, you tried to find the right time or the right word, but before you could, he had vanished into the sea.

The news spread like wildfire, and with that came the uncovering of his identity. His readers pieced together that the missing person whose body never resurfaced was the author of their beloved books. Online you saw thinkpieces, video essays, and truecrime podcast episodes on the matter. His face splattered across billboards and campaigns for a search. The mystery manifested, flooding the internet for months before a documentary on his disappearance dropped.

Chaos.

Letters from his fans. Invitations to interviews. Emails from news broadcasts. You got them all. Who was Jung? Who was Haiyang? What was he like in real life? The global sensation sent tsunamis of attention your way - you, a friend from his diving classes. People scoured for a glimpse of Jung's shadow in you. They put your face in conspiracy theories as well as juvenile video edits. Their morbid curiosity drove them to flood your town like packs of bloodhounds searching for rabbits. You refused to entertain their psychotic thirst for "the truth behind it all", sealing yourself up in masks and sunglasses whenever you needed to get out. You grew to resent their narcissistic needs to insert themselves into Jung's narrative - complete strangers clawing through his doorway crying as if they knew him, as if they ever spent their Sundays on his motorbike rides down the coast or get piss drunk at the beach while hanging on his shoulder. He never walked them home when it got dark. He never bought them canvases when they would tear up their painting in a fit of painter's rage. You grew colder and harder, turning to hate the world.

Everyone was stupid and selfish.

You grinded your teeth through it alone. Your paintings grew from blue to black and red. You locked them away, unable to look at them once done, unable to throw them away. Stuck, you tried to find solace in the ocean view from your apartment.

That was until your job fired you. You were bad PR, you knew, even when they danced around it. You didn't bother to hear their excuses. That morning, you packed everything on your table into a carton box, your head feeling emptier than ever.

You were supposed to drive home, but instead you found yourself going down the coastline with your window down, salty ocean wind going through your sleeves and collar. You couldn't tell what it was that you felt. You only knew your insides felt hollow enough to manifest an illusion of freedom, yet your corporeal body was heavy and sluggish. Driving all the way up the cliffside where you braked to watch the glimmering blue sea, you found yourself hopping out of the car and walked toward the edge.

The dizzying view downward made your stomach churn. You felt the hypnotic pull of the water even from way above. Your eyes were fixed on the foam that licked at the rocky edges, your heart drumming to fight against the sublime temptation. You thought about how if Jung had been near, he would have told you to stop being silly and driven you to the local grocery store for a strawberry cream pop. Upon that thought, you felt your cheeks wet from tears.

He would have wanted you to live.

You were staring at the rocky beachside transfixed when something hooked your attention. You thought you saw a person at first, half naked , sprawling against the wet rock. Knowing how deep the water went there, you felt your chest twisting into a knot as you stared in horror seeing them lying their motionless. Yet, something was not quite right about the scene. Even in disarray, you couldn't help but took notes of their abnormal size - they were much bigger than the average human. The rocks looked ... small against their form. Squinting to get a clearer picture, you failed to figure out what they were wearing. Something like a frilly white dress with a translucent veil draping over them? A runaway bride? - you wondered to yourself, trying to make sense of what you were seeing but couldn't.

For the life of you, you could not see their legs.

Your head spun. You stood in silence, trying to calculate the fastest route you could take to get to that beach. It was not private property, that you knew, but it was secluded, which guaranteed a long walk from where your car would be. From your estimation, you could reach them in at least one and a half hour, which was better than nothing, you supposed. Adrenaline pumped through youe veins as you rushed back to your car, your feet barely touching the ground. Your car's engine reeved atop concrete as you drove down the coast again, your heart thumping in your chest. You knew you were doing something impulsive and stupid. You knew that it was the self-serving part in you that wanted to be a part of something important and unusual to take your mind off reality. Still, you drove on in silence and felt the winds against your skin.

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere reader insert #yandere x reader #male yandere #oc #yandere x you #mermaid au

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crispycreambacon · 6 months

Text

You fill your head with thoughts you find you can't even feel

Try to make room in your skull, but it’s full of them

All of the things that you think and then think about thinking

I know it’s hard, but they're not who you are

They're white noise

— White Noise, Will Wood —

Welcome one and all to "Mashing Two Interests Like Playdough", the first episode is Puppet History x Will Wood, specifically the Substitute x White Noise 'cause holy moly. It fits him so well. Omg.

I had so much fun creating this poster! I'm really proud of how the poses and the rendering turned out even though both gave me a rough time at first </3 I actually had an earlier version of this poster, but I scrapped it because it wasn't doing it for me ngl :,D I'm glad I did though!

Anyways if you'd like to know more about why I think this song fits the Substitute, you can read my interpretation of the lyrics and how they can relate to him below the "Read More" button. You can also find the glitchless + filterless version of the poster there.

Note: A lot of this is speculation on my part, and you don't need to conform to this reading. This is just how I perceive him.

They paint the walls with colors that you're not meant to notice

They fill the halls with tunes you can't get into your head

Let's establish the obvious: The Substitute can't feel. The extent of his unfeelingness is unknown, but what is known is that he can't taste and can't have the sensation of touch. This may lead to him being isolated due to his inability to relate to experiences both humans and his fellow puppets seem to have, particularly the experiences of the one he is based on.

Yeah, it sorta sounds like a retro top-40 but wrong

You're not meant to sing along

It isn't that kind of song

It's white noise

Despite his unfeelingness, he still wants to have the experiences others have. After all, he literally almost killed someone just to have that chance, but his plan is not entirely well-thoughout. How was he going to dispose Ryan's body without getting caught? How was he going to sew the skin onto himself and dispose the rest of it? What was he going to do after he finally what he asked for?

In a way, he was doomed to fail. He was never meant to gain sentience anyway, let alone have the desire to feel like his counterpart. His existence is a complete accident. Now he has to deal with the consequences of actions he never even had a hand in doing.

But if you listen closely I swear, to God I swear

You can hear the ocean if you hold it up to your ear

This lyric directly inspired the pose of the Substitute listening to the conch shell. He has memories of some of the most wonderful sensations on Earth yet he can't connect with any of them. Perhaps when no one was looking, he tries to recreate some of them in a desperate attempt to find a scrap of semblance of feeling and gets increasingly frustrated with his inability to understand them.

Is it any wonder that he would do anything to regain that scrap of enjoyment? To end his torturous experience by any means necessary?

Its personality's a lack of identity

The entire second verse in general speaks about the meaningless of art and how people try to give it meaning anyway. The Substitute's only purpose was to replace the Professor either to console a dead mass or to continue the show. Now that the Professor is back... What can he do?

Moreover, he's also never allowed to have an identity of his own. Since he's meant to be a perfect copy of someone else, especially someone who's presumed to be dead, he can never really deviate from that role because it would break the illusion the puppets created to cope with their grief. No matter what his desires are, he can never really explore any of them because no one is allowing him to do so.

Also, the way the orchestra swells during this part kinda calls back to theatrical music for me. I feel like the Substitute would enjoy performace arts. His bombastic musical number implies he had a flair for the dramatics, and despite his lack of feeling, his expression of his ambitions is quite dramatic.

You fill your head with thoughts you find you can't even feel

This can relate to how the Subtitute is forced to relive the memories of the Professor despite not being able to experience the emotions connected with them. In a way, he has to so that he could remind himself of his motivations. Remembering the joy the Professor got through feeling would keep him going on this path in the hopes that some day, he could feel that joy too.

I know it's hard

But they're not who you are

They're white noise

This line can be taken in two ways. One is based on the speculated official meaning of the outro which is centered on intrusive thoughts. No doubt the Substitute deals with homicidal thoughts, but I wonder if he truly believes in them. Does he genuinely enjoy indulge in them, or does he act on them because it's all that he knows? For all the talk about him having the Professor's memories, at the end of the day, he was crudely coded for one simple purpose. His thoughts are very simplistic—as seen with how quickly he jumps to murder as the most logical solution for his problem—and I wonder if he was given a chance to grow beyond his purpose, he could've reliazed that homocide was not the right course of action.

The other way, which is likely more relevant, relates back to the Substitute being intrinsically tied to the Professor. His thoughts, his memories and his actions are all in a way influenced by the Professor. But it didn't have to be this way. As unlikely as it is, he could've had a life where he discovered his own interests and his own personality outside of being "the evil Professor". If he had gotten to learn more about the world on his own, if he had been able to act not as the Professor but as himself, he would've been able to develop more and find that joy he was missing. He could've had a life.

Unfortunately, he was never given that chance, and it is unlikely that he ever will be.

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nicki0kaye · 8 months

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random Kallus hc inspired by someone else's post #2

man he's gotta hate that he lost his bo-rifle to fucking Thrawn

like so the moral of the Honorable Ones to me was Kallus realizing he has nothing of value in his life--he has TWO personal items to his name; this fuckin glow rock and his bo-rifle which he has just learned is his by right. Regardless of what he did to Lasan, regardless of all the awful reasons he should never be accepted by any of his enemies, that fucking bo-rifle is his and no Honor Guard of Lasan can argue otherwise. There are a lot of reasons he turns on the Empire, but this is where it starts. The realization his life is so small and so empty, and he just limped back to it. Why? Why is this life worth living? And with more research, it stops being a selfish desire to ditch and becomes an informed hatred of the Empire, BUT

lets go back to that kernel of rebellion. Kallus' life is small and empty. He's got a Rock and Bo-Rifle. That's all that defines him outside his identity as a ISB officer.

He just acquired the Rock. He's been living with bo-rifle as his single defining trait for maybe a decade at this point. It's an extension of his beef with Lasat in general, which started on Onderon when one blew up his first Big Boy Mission. It makes sense he'd fixate on such a traumatic event but it's not JUST that. You don't get to have personal hobbies or a sense of fashion or really any kind of identity within the Empire outside who you personally want to fuck up. Kallus chose the Lasat and got fucking spiteful about it, which led him to the Siege of Lasan, where he won his bo-rifle.

but like, it's more than that. It isn't just hatred--if it were, I don't think Zeb would have gotten to him. I think that Kallus has had a buried respect for the Lasat for a long time, if only because of how much time and effort it took to win and then become proficient with the bo-rifle. Then there's the layer of it being the only true outlet for identity he's allowed. THEN there's the fact the bo-rifles are a Force weapon. They've got kyber crystals inside them. And I personally subscribe to the idea that everyone can sense the Force, thus be guided by the Force, it's just that not everyone can recognize what is intuition/one's own emotions and what is the Force, nevermind having an ability to influence other shit with the Force.

What I'm trying to say is I wanna believe Kallus bonded with his bo-rifle in a cosmic way. He is the Warrior, hunting the future; the Force always had plans for his ass and saw that a Force-conductive weapon made its way into his hands, that he then spent years becoming deadly with. That fucking weapon is connected to his soul.

and he lost it to Thrawn.

Thrawn didn't beat him in a fight while Kallus was armed with his bo-rifle, but he super beat his ass in a fight. Even if Kallus could argue he didn't earn the bo-rifle, Kallus couldn't retrieve it before having to gtfo. It's still somewhere on Thrawn's stupid ship--my assumption is that Thrawn goes and adds it to his collection of stolen artwork.

Regardless, Kallus doesn't have it anymore. This thing he poured what little identity he was allowed to maintain, years of hard work and practice and countless battles where he relied on it to keep him alive as his primary weapon, nevermind a Force connection, anyone would become attached to a weapon after years of service. This reminder of Lasan, this piece of history, its fucking gone now.

I don't think he'd think he's allowed to mourn that, considering all he's done, but you can't logic away your feelings, and now he's with a group of ppl who actively find that kind of coping pretty fucking unhealthy. At some point he's gonna have to process what that weapon meant to him and its not gonna be pretty.

imo, he gets a tat of it on the forearm of his dominant hand. He'd think about it for a long time but only go through with it after finally discussing all his mixed up feelings with Zeb, who would super approve of him paying his respects to a sacred fuckin weapon this way. It was his, by right, by soul, by will of the Ashla.

#nik v sw #kallus

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waytooinvested · 2 months

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Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 22

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

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

Twenty minutes of intensive breaking things later, and Lena was back from the brink of full scale nuclear meltdown. Normally the extent of her loss of control would be to throw a glass or two, or slam down her tablet too hard so that the screen cracked, and then stop, redirecting her fury into something colder and more vengeful (something Luthor ). But it was different with Alex in the mix. Her friend encouraged her to keep going, to direct those feelings outwards and vent . It was possible she had even convinced her (once or twice, down in the most distant unused basement room where no one would hear) to let out a few yells as she took the largest wrench from her toolkit to a box of faulty Schlenk flasks, and by the time they were done all 120 of them were ground down into shards no bigger than her thumbnail.

She still felt as tender and raw as if her entire body had been through a sand blaster, but it was enough at least that she was as prepared as she ever would be to hear Kara out.

Kara loves you so much.

Kara has never stopped believing in you.

Kara was in your corner every time.

She could only hope, desperately, foolishly hope , that Alex was right. If she was, Lena wanted to be able to say the same in return.

That she had never doubted Kara.

That however bad things had looked, she always had faith in her.

But it wasn’t true.

She believed that Kara was always striving to do the right thing, even when they disagreed on exactly what that was. She believed that Kara had no actual desire to cause her pain or to humiliate her, even when that was the outcome of her actions . But she didn’t believe – couldn’t believe – that Kara’s faith in her was that unwavering.

How could it be? Lena was a Luthor. No one trusted a Luthor.

Not really.

Please Kara. Please, please prove me wrong.

Then before Lena was quite ready Kara herself was there, opening the door with her usual glad greeting as if everything was normal, and the world hadn’t just cracked in two. At the sight of her Lena was hit with a jarring jolt of dissonance, like an aftershock of the feeling she’d had the first time she’d seen her after learning Supergirl’s true identity: the illogical certainty that such a seismic shift in her own perspective should be reflected by some sort of difference in Kara’s demeanour. But of course it wasn’t. As far as Kara was concerned this was just another day.

Another day of lying to Lena about who she was and how she spent her time…

Allegedly.

Kara reached out for the quick one armed hug that had found its place since the dream session as their compromise between the long embraces of their distant past and the more recent cautious space-keeping, and Lena took a quick step to the side to avoid it, moving round Kara into her apartment without touching her.

She couldn’t touch her. Not right now. Even so much as a brush of fingers and she would shatter into as many pieces as her ruined Schlenk flasks.

Kara stayed with her arm outstretched for a moment, then dropped it back to her side, her happy expression slowly transforming into one of bewilderment and concern.

‘What’s wrong, has something happened? Are you okay?’

Lena shook her head, closing her eyes against Kara’s worry. She sounded so genuine …

So… maybe William had lied about Kara helping him?

Maybe he just meant in a general sense, that he had mentioned part of it to her casually and, innocent of the reason behind it, she had told him something innocuous that he had taken as evidence against Lena.

Maybe she had jumped to conclusions and the falling sky was nothing more than an acorn dropping on her head after all.

The thought gave her enough courage to open her eyes again and meet Kara’s gaze.

Soft. Warm. Worried. Not the slightest trace of guilt or duplicity.

‘William Dey came to see me today.’

‘Oh... I really wish he’d talked to me first.’

Kara shuffled a little awkwardly, looking caught out, and Lena’s fragile hope crumpled like wet tissue paper.

‘You don’t sound very surprised.’

‘Well...’

‘So it’s true? You really have been working with him on this… investigation?’

Say no, say no, say no.

But Kara’s brows knotted, and Lena’s unease roared upwards as the look of guilt that had been missing before crept in behind the concern.

‘He told you about that? I didn’t want to talk to you about it until we had some actual evidence. But… yeah, I have.’

Fuck fuck fuck. It was really real .

Lena had thought she believed that before, that she had been trying to give Kara the benefit of the doubt against her certainty of betrayal, but now it was confirmed she realised that that hadn’t been true at all. She had been afraid that Kara had betrayed her. She hadn’t really believed it. Not until now.

Tears spilled freely down her cheeks, and she didn’t even try to hold them back. There was no point in playing it cool anymore. She couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. Not when it was this. Not when it was Kara.

Again.

Kara stepped forwards as if she was going to try to hug her again, but Lena backed away, hands up to fend her off.

‘How could you do that and not tell me? All this time we’ve been spending together and- Kara, how could you?’

‘I’m sorry! I never meant to hurt you.’

Lena scoffed, a spark of anger kindling in the dry tinder of her pain.

‘You never meant… you lied to me and investigated me for a horrible crime behind my back, how could that possibly not hurt me?’

‘What?! Lena, no! We’re not investigating you. It’s Andrea. William thinks that Andrea had something to do with Supergirl going missing, and I’ve been helping him look into it.’

Wait.

W hat ?

‘That’s what he told you?’

‘It’s true. William must have wanted to talk to you because he knows you know Andrea and wanted background information, but this has always been about her, not you. If he had told me what he was planning I’d have come to you with it myself, but clearly he thought he knew better and went in way too strong if he made you think he was accusing you.’

‘He did accuse me. Outright. He thought that I was behind Supergirl’s apparent disappearance, possibly in collaboration with my brother, and with the help of Andrea to cover it up. That’s the investigation you’ve been helping with.’

The genuinely stricken look on Kara’s face would have been hard to fake, her jaw actually dropping very slightly as she took this in in what seemed to be a horrified daze.

‘But… no. Lena, no. I would never, ever think you would do something like that. Oh God. I am so so sorry, please let me explain what happened.’

She reached out again as if the desire to touch Lena was overwhelming, but caught herself this time without needing to be rebuffed, her hands staying outstretched without making contact, like a physical metaphor for the space the investigation had ripped open between them. Lena stared down at them through the sheen of tears still swimming in her eyes, trying to decide whether she wanted to meet them in the middle or slap them away from her. There was a time, not so long ago, when the answer would have been obvious. She would have cocooned herself in her own pain, turned it to anger and worn it like armour against any explanation Kara might have offered, and would have known herself right to do so. But now… now nothing was obvious, and instead of reaching for Kara or pushing her back, Lena wrapped her arms around her own middle, hanging onto her elbows as if that could keep the fracturing parts of herself together, and nodded.

‘Alright. Explain.’

There was a second’s hesitation, as if Kara too was surprised that she hadn’t had to fight harder to get her hearing. Then she launched in, speaking quickly to get it all out before Lena could change her mind.

‘I started out looking into William himself, like I told you, remember? I thought he was up to something more than he was saying, and it turned out I was right, but it wasn’t something nefarious like I expected. I found this board he was putting together about Andrea, and when I confronted him he admitted that he’d come to Catco to investigate her. He thought she had something to do with Supergirl’s absence and that there was more to the story than her visiting Argo like it said on the news. The whole ambitious jerk thing was an act to keep people away, and he said now I knew he was willing to let me work with him to get to the truth. I agreed because I so desperately wanted to feel like I was doing some good in the world, and this seemed like a way I could be part of something heroic. But he only ever mentioned Andrea. If I’d thought for a second that William had been looking into you, I swear I would have set him straight. I will set him straight, as soon as I see him. Lena, I know you would never do something like this. If there’s one thing in the universe I believe in beyond question, it’s you.’

The last part hit Lena in every vulnerable place that wanted so badly for that to be true, but she set it aside for now to focus as objectively as she could on the story as Kara had presented it.

And… it was plausible.

From the way William had talked about her, it was clear he thought that Kara was either being blackmailed into publishing the stories that Lena wanted told, or else was an unwitting patsy being manipulated by her. In either case it would make sense for him not to tell her the full scope of his investigation, even if he let her in on part of it. He might even have kept her close as a way of finding out more about her own supposed role in all this.

‘Okay… But that still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me what you were doing. Did you think you couldn’t trust me with it?’

‘Of course not! It was never about that, I just didn’t want to put you in a difficult position. I know how hard it can be for you to let people in, and how many people have let you down in your life. There wasn’t any hard evidence of any kind of crime, and I didn’t want to make you question your friendship with Andrea if it was all just a wild goose chase. I didn’t want to put you in the position of having to choose between Andrea and me.’

‘But I would have chosen you. If you’d given me the chance, I would have chosen you. Without hesitation.’

Her voice cracked around the admission, and Kara shook her head slowly, anguish written in every line of her expression, hands wringing before her like she was trying to wash the stain of guilt from them.

‘I just wanted to protect you.’

Another tear followed the path left for it by those she had already cried, but Lena brushed it impatiently away this time.

‘I know you did. I believe you. But I hate that your instinct to protect me still defaults to lying to me. Just like before. Kara, I thought we were past that. I thought… I thought you actually trusted me this time.’

‘I DO trust you. It wasn’t- I didn’t-’

Kara stopped, apparently recognising her own knee jerk denial of responsibility was not what was needed here. She bit her lip, and then let her shoulders drop, the defensiveness gone from her posture.

‘You’re right. I messed up badly, and I won’t do it again. I promise, I will be totally honest with you from now on, even when it might hurt. I don’t want to lose you again Lena. I can’t lose you again. Please, please give me another chance to do better.’

Lena swallowed.

She was still working on giving Kara a second chance, could she really now offer a third chance on top of it, with lies compounded by more lies and apparently no lessons learned?

Madness is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

But listening to that insistent Luthor-legacy instinct would mean walking away from Kara, after everything they had shared. Throwing away all their progress and accepting a life without her in it.

A life without Kara .

She could picture it, easily. She had lived it after all, she knew its shape as intimately as that of her own face in the mirror. If she walked away now she would survive this loss the way she had all the others, and would find a way to keep going. She would have her work to focus on, and it would be easy to let that take over until there was no room for anything in her heart or mind except her determination to make L-Corp the best it could be. It was safe (inevitable assassination attempts not withstanding), predictable, even fulfilling in its way.

And she hated it.

The picture in her head was a sad, flat, grey thing, where no one hurt Lena because she didn’t care enough about anyone to let them. And it didn’t have Kara in it. Her life was better with Kara in it, it just was. It always had been, and it was worth fighting for. Even if she was terrified. Even if her knees were shaking and her stomach was churning and she had no idea how to do- this . She wanted it. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she wanted to choose vulnerability instead of strength.

She met Kara’s eyes and nodded, once.

Kara let out a breath in a woosh, as if she had been holding it ever since she had asked the question.

‘Please can I hug you now?’

Being touched still might shatter her, but Lena was beyond caring, and she nodded again, her head continuing to bob up and down of its own accord until it was stopped by the sudden presence of Kara against her. Kara, wrapping her up in an embrace so tight and all encompassing that it felt as if she was trying to pull Lena right into her, so that they could never be separated again. Kara, with her wonderful familiar coconut-shampoo and sugared-doughnuts smell, who was so strong and yet so gentle, who protected her without taking away her autonomy, who believed in her and made her laugh and wanted her, just as she was. Her Kara…

Tears that weren’t her own were soaking into Lena’s hair, and there was a tremble in the arms that were still trying to press her closer even now there was no more room to press into.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I bruised you again, but I swear I didn’t do it on purpose. I would never, ever hurt you on purpose Lena. You’re my person. My Lena. My… everything. If you hurt, I hurt.’

The last vestiges of Lena’s rigid control loosened, and then abruptly unravelled altogether. She clung to Kara fiercely, and allowed herself to cry against the soft wool of her cardigan while Kara stroked her hair and made low, soothing noises.

This wasn’t the gentle, tragically pretty roll of tears down porcelain cheeks like a woman in an artsy French film. Lena cried hard . Ugly, messy, uninhibited tears of the sort that should only ever be indulged in in private, buried under the covers in the middle of the night where they could be left behind by the time morning came. Lena had never allowed herself to cry like this with another person, and seldom even when she was alone. But right now she couldn’t muster up the energy to care about appearances, and couldn’t have stopped even if she did.

Smashing things with Alex had allowed Lena to regain her composure, but crying with Kara did the opposite. It pulled her pain out of her in a torrent. Not just over what had happened with William Dey and the investigation, but all of it. The hurt over Kara’s lie all through the years of their friendship. The guilt and fear and worry when Lex had kidnapped her and locked away her memories and powers. All Lena’s confused, conflicting feelings since then as she had tried to work out who they could be to each other and how to navigate everything between them in the reality they now found themselves in.

She cried for a long time, but Kara didn’t shift away, or try to get her to calm down. She just kept holding Lena, steadfast and steady, and let her feel everything she needed to feel. It was almost as if they had traded places from the night of the disastrous dream journey – as if they were taking turns to hold space for the other to fall to pieces so that they could build something better from the parts.

By the time she finished, Kara’s cardigan was soaked through at the shoulder, and Lena’s head was pounding, her eyes puffy and sore, her nose running, cheeks blotchily flushed.

She must have looked a total mess, but Kara didn’t seem to notice or care. When Lena at last lifted her head from the refuge of Kara’s clavicle it was to find her looking down at her with an expression so achingly tender that for a moment Lena thought she was about to lean in and kiss her, snot and tears and all.

She didn’t, of course. But she did press her forehead very gently to Lena’s, cupping her hot, damp cheek with one comparatively cool hand as if it was her most precious treasure.

‘I am honoured that you trusted me with that. Thank you.’

Lena should have been embarrassed, but Kara sounded so completely earnest that she wasn’t. She felt wrung out by her outpouring, but also relieved, and unburdened, and safe in a way that she was pretty sure didn’t exist anywhere in the world except in these arms.

I love you.

She almost said it.

The words were right there between her lips, and only the presence of Atlantis, still between them like an unwelcome chaperone for all they were standing so close, kept them from coming out.

So instead she whispered into the few inches between their lips:

‘Thank you for being my person. There is no one else I would choose.’

#supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #kara x lena #my fic #multi chapter fic #Forgotten Not Forgiven #thank you people who comment you are my favourite and I love you

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centrally-unplanned · 6 months

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Something I do see a lot on discourse around Vicky 3 is a discussion of essentially "strategic decisions", people going "I want the game to always challenge me on what the right decision to make is and have meaningful tradeoffs and choices". And while for sure you need some of that - its inherent to diplomacy & war for example - I don't actually think that is true for the core mechanics. For one, Vicky 1 and Vicky 2 never had those! It did not, I am so sorry. In Vicky 2 if you want to move up the value you chain you "build factory in territory that has matching RGO", "research the pop growth, literacy, and research point techs before pivoting to key industrial techs" and "spam factories and railroads as long as they are profitable". Every country run was the same in pretty much every context from a strategic lens, your choices in this regard were not meaningful and you never needed to stop and think "hm...what do I build here, let me research the market..." or something, you learned a few tricks and applied them over and over. In Vicky 1 it was the same, but simpler, with a weirdly high punishment for imports (import costs were 100% paid by the government for some reason) so you try to avoid those, and also pop splitting as pure manual labor.

The Victoria games are simulation games, where "NPCs" have a ton of agency and therefore a lot is out of the hands of the player. That gameplay model actually conflicts with strategic depth, because if the simulations choices are meaningful then they need to be taking strategic options off the table. And its also a game simulating a 100+ countries and dozens of goods in a market economy, its operations are gonna be opaque as all hell. Because the simulation is expansive, to handle it as a player your actual decisions need to be simple and clear. Otherwise each decision would be a slog of digging through tables to figure out what to do, the game would drag down (and if the game just gives you a summary table of the data for you, well that is like a chess AI showing you your best moves isn't it?)

Instead what you want is the roleplay of meaningful tradeoffs. What is annoying is if every country feels like it industrializes and politics the same way, if you just "Build University - Build Steel Mill - Win" every time you lose the sense that you are roleplaying a leader of that country figuring out its challenges. You want multiple pathways - autocratic agrarian regime, liberal export powerhouse, communism autarky, etc - to all feel viable so you can play different roles. All of them being viable is anti-strategy in a way, right? It means your decisions kind of don't matter, anything can work out. Again you balance this, you have to do each path "right" and can screw up, but at its core its not meant to be hard the way chess is hard.

Vicky 2 for example did this a little bit with its RGO bonuses to factories - each province had its "best" factory, so if your country didn't have a great iron/coal province then maybe going for steel wasn't for you. Its an obvious decision right, not much strategy there, but it separates countries as an identity. But overall Vicky 2 wasn't amazing at this - one of the reasons event-heavy mods were so popular.

I see a lot of complaints online about Vicky 3 having that "sameness" to countries, but I also think those comments are rose-tinted about its predecessor games. I haven't played enough to say yet, so its what I am keeping an eye out for.

#victoria 3

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deardoomedworld · 9 months

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Talking about how affable yet ruthless Inayat "tyrant of love" Khan is has made me start thinking about Jesper and how prickly he is. He's so mean, even purposefully vicious - think of how he talks to Anita when he leaves, and how after that harrowing conversation, he's literally fantasising about how he could've been even meaner - he seems to find some sort of satisfaction/relief in being mean, in the little bit of power and control it temporarily gives him (over someone else's emotions, which is better than nothing when you feel powerless).

When we first meet them as adults, Jesper seems more detached from the other two (or alternatively, Khan and Tereesz seem closer), not just because of an earlier falling out with Khan but because he seems more put together. Tereesz' and Khan's careers/lives are more obviously shaped by their childhood trauma, while Jesper is succesful, rich, and famous. He seems better adjusted and perhaps like he moved on more than the others. Jesper's jabs towards Tereesz and Khan (think of how he tells them that them visiting the Lund girls' mother is sad/pathetic while he did the same thing; or the "those of us whose profession does not include ditches and missing children" comment) seem specifically meant to make himself look more normal. He's wearing white. He's not sullied.

This is of course just a facade. Later on in the book, it becomes clear (at least that's my interpretation) that Jesper is just as, if perhaps not more fucked up than the others, and keeps them at arms length because he's trying to hide this. His privilege - his wealth and his looks (as a blonde, blue-eyed Vaasan) - plays a big role in him succeeding in this. The other two are constantly reminded that they're immigrants, and already have to put in more effort than Jesper just to be treated normally (Tereesz is very good at this when he's not inebriated, as he seems to have dumped a bunch of skill points in composure & authority. Khan not so much), let aside when they're unraveling.

But back to his prickly exterior, his meanness. I find it interesting that as unlikeable as he is, he also seems to completely break down once Tereesz gets shot. He builts a little tomb for Tereesz' gun and then sets off to, apparently, do coke for two months and then disappear himself (we get a nice close-up of his passport, his identity, burning up before he enters the Lungs of Graad). As much as he mocked Tereesz and Khan, he seemed completely on board to leave his life behind and go with Khan's plan, but then he just abandons that after the events or chapter 18. Because... "It's become too morbid for Jesper."

Behind his likeability, Khan is revealed to be somewhat ruthless- there's nothing he won't do for this cause, nothing that can stand in his way. Jesper, vicious as he was, breaks down quickly, because his meanness was for hiding vulnerability. He was trying so hard to be normal. ("This is sad? It's all totally great!") The Ibex English translation uses the word morbid a few times, and it's often in relation to Jesper. ("I don't collect anything, you morbos.") So, behind his prickliness, is Jesper the one made of mushier stuff, who can't handle the bad stuff well? The soft one who just breaks, in the end? The sentimental one, holding onto scrunchies and service weapons.

It's counterintuitive because he's so mean, but maybe Jesper is in white because he's more innocent, more childlike? ("To this day, he hates adult sexuality. (...) Realistically, and in a paradoxical way, this makes him a p*dophile.") After all, if you search the word white through the Ibex translation, almost all instances of its use are used to refer to a Lund girl, or Jesper.

Is. Is this anything.

#sacred and terrible air #püha ja õudne lõhn #jesper de la guardie #pjol theories #oh my god a Jesper post from the Tereesz apologist???#it's more likely than you think!#the sofa where Khan and Machejek felt uncomfortable is white #I think there's also a connection between Jesper in white and his nihilism #similar to Zigi's white stripes #but I really wanted to talk about this instead #maybe someone else can explore his nihilism #also thinking of Khan as the nice one Jesper the mean one #and Tereesz whatever the situation demands bc he sees himself as a tool not a person

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sam-is-my-safe-word · 4 months

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Demon Dreams

Demon!Dean Winchester x Jensen Ackles

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Non- AU, Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Season/Series 10, Character Bleed, Jensen Is Not Okay, Jared is Jared, Jared Is Worried About Jensen, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon Dean Is An Asshole, Emotional Manipulation, Identity Crisis, Possession, Sort of? - Freeform, Wet Dreams, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Strangulation, Exorcisms, Sexorcism If You Will,

Word Count: 3,201

Summary: Jensen is no stranger to character bleed. But it's not meant to take over your life like this, right?

Notes:

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "you fed my demons" "you created mine" square.

Okay, this is the most fictional thing I've ever written lol. This is an utterly fictional Jensen set in an AU with no wives or children. I am not implying for one single second that anything in this fic actually occured. Nor am I implying Jensen is gay or bisexual. Please don't sue me lol. Also, first time writing RPF/RPS. Still feel some kinda way about it. Be gentle with me (even though I am not gentle with you, my dear readers)

Endless thanks to my beta @runawaydr3amerao3 for all her help in making this so much better than I could have & for her comma wrangling <3 Endless thanks also to @talltalesandbedtimestories for getting me involved in this whole bingo thing & cheering me on <3

Jensen is no stranger to character bleed. It’s happened before. Some characters are just too heavy.

It’s happened with Dean a few times. Hard scenes that invade his dreams for days afterwards. Character arcs that refuse to leave when he sheds Dean to put Jensen back on and leave him snapping at everyone.

This is different, though. This is like the character has taken on a life of its own in his head.

Jensen is no stranger to sex dreams either. He’s a healthy guy in his mid-thirties with no long-term partner and a job that takes up almost all his life.

Jerking off at 3am because he woke up hard from a dream of some faceless someone riding him like a mechanical bull, and his alarm is going to go off in just over an hour and he’d really like to sleep a little more and sleep won’t happen until he deals with his cock, is just another part of life.

This is different as well. This isn’t a faceless stranger. He knows the person haunting his dreams.

Intimately.

Jensen has dreamed about Dean lots of times. He’s an old friend.

This is not his Dean.

~~~

Demon Dean was a challenge. He started out fun to play, a nice mix-up. A chance for extended scenes with Mark, to let out Dean’s inner asshole. A sex scene - awkward - and a fight scene - awesome. The black contacts weren’t fun but overall it was a good time.

Up until filming the third episode, when he had to act against Jared again, and suddenly Demon Dean wasn’t fun anymore. Then it was hard. Then it was fighting against every acting instinct that came with ten years of Dean, ten years with Jared.

Not Dean, Sam’s brother anymore; Demon Dean, Sam’s enemy. It was a hard headspace to get into. Chasing Jared around the bunker with a hammer was brutal. He couldn’t even truly lose himself in the character because he still had to direct everyone else.

Then it was over. Just three episodes and he was free to lose the murder shirt and style his hair properly again.

And he’s proud of his work. Especially ‘Soul Survivor’. It’s always a challenge to balance actor and director, but he’s thrilled with how it turned out. He made Demon Dean a true threat to Sam, and as long as he doesn’t examine that too closely, it’s okay.

But it’s been a couple of weeks since they finished ‘Soul Survivor’, and Jensen is still waking up sweating after dreams about black eyes and the words ‘do it’ ringing in his ears.

~~~

Look, Jensen is a perfectly sane guy. He has a great handle on his mental health, knows the signs of when he needs to reach out. Hell, after ten years of helping Jared, Jensen would say he probably knows more about mental health than most people who don’t actually suffer with mental health problems.

So while he knows that his dreams of weapons, black eyes and the thrill of the chase are just character bleed, he also knows that he needs to be aware in case they develop into something serious.

But nothing he knows tells him what to do when he starts to look forward to his dark dreams.

Jared might be able to help, though.

So a few days later, when he wakes up hard and aching after dreaming about Demon Dean fucking his throat raw - all while holding a knife to it - after he’s taken care of the problem, he texts Jared - once he’s washed his hands, of course.

It’s still early, but Jared gets up hours before he needs to, to work out and walk his dogs and generally become a person. A far cry from Jensen, who falls out of bed after four snoozes of his alarm and downs coffee until his eyes open.

Jensen: You up?

Jared: Yeah, lol. Why are YOU up?

Jensen: Can’t sleep. Can I ask you something?

There’s a pause and Jensen thinks maybe Jared’s sitting down or something. No one asks to talk at 3:30am. He isn’t expecting the phone to ring in his hand.

“‘Lo.”

“You okay? Not like you to be up at this time, never mind asking if you can ask me something.”

This is exactly what Jensen didn’t want. Now he has to try and explain himself with words instead of text.

“I’m okay. Just… Do you even dream about Sam?”

Jared lets out a small laugh; Jensen can hear the relief.

“All the time, man. All the fucking time. You don’t dream about Dean?”

“Yeah, I do. I mean… like, weird dreams about Sam?”

Jared hums.

“I had a recurring dream that he kept showing up to my high school graduation and glaring at me. Like I was an asshole for finishing school, y’know.”

Jared chuckles.

“Or when I’ve gone a little too hard on the candy and there’s Sam, staring at me from across a table with a pile of salad in front of him. Like, okay, dude. You’re a health nut, I’m not. That kind of weird?”

God help Jensen, Jared is going to make him spell it out.

“Not exactly…”

Jared must hear something in his voice because he starts to laugh, far too loudly for the time of day.

“Ohhhh… that kind of weird. Jackles, you pervert, you.”

This was a terrible idea, why did he even message Jared? He’ll never live this down now.

“No, not like- I mean, that kind of weird but not… Stop fucking laughing, Jared.”

Jared has gone from laughing to belly laughing; Jensen can hear him fighting for breath.

“I’m sorry...”

“You’re not.”

“No, I’m not. This is too funny. Hollywood hot-shot Jensen Ackles all in knots at 3am because he had a wet dream-”

“I fucking DID NOT!”

He did, though, night after night.

“Why are you blushing then?”

“I’m no-”

Damnit, he is. He can feel his cheeks heating up.

“It wasn’t a wet fucking dream, Jared. I’m not thirteen, for chrissakes. It was just a weird dream and it kinda freaked me out.”

“A weird sex dream, you mean.”

“Yes.”

Jared is still laughing but it’s starting to die down now.

“Okay, calm down. Yes, I dream about Sam. Yes, sometimes they’re weird. Yes, sometimes they’re sex-dreams-weird. Hell, I dream about fucking Sam more than I dream about fucking anyone else.”

Jared sounds perfectly at peace with this revelation, and if it was regular Dean that Jensen was dreaming about, he might get it.

“I mean, it’s either dream about fucking Sam or dream about fucking you . I’ll take Sam any day.”

Jared starts fake gagging and Jensen is over this entire conversation.

“Okay, good talk. Thanks, Jared. I’ll see you in a little while. Let’s just forget this ever happened.”

“Wait. You know I’m only messin’ with you. You can talk-”

*Click*

Well, that was a waste of time. Jared sounded sincere at the end, but Jensen is too embarrassed to even try to talk now. Hopefully by the time he has to face Jared in the car, Jared will have found something else to talk about.

~~~

Jared was smart enough not to bring up the early morning phone call, and after a brief hug and a nod, they were all good.

Demon Dean, though? He’s dining out on the call, milking Jensen’s embarrassment for all it’s worth.

It’s a special kind of humiliation when someone is three fingers deep in your ass and you’re moaning like a whore, and they bring up an awkward 3am call you had with your best friend a few days ago.

“So you think this is weird, huh?”

Jensen never doubted Dean’s swagger was well earned, but Demon Dean turns it up to eleven. Jensen hasn’t come this hard since he was a teen, and it’s part of the reason he looks forward to these damn dreams, even though they freak him the fuck out.

“‘Cause you sure seem to like it.”

Demon Dean twists his fingers and Jensen howls.

“You like being here, at my mercy. You like when it hurts, when you’re scared. When I take it.”

Jensen’s hips buck. God, he’s so close.

“This is where you should be. That pretty face needs to be sucking cock or face down in the sheets.”

Jensen isn’t eighteen anymore, he’s not new to the scene and insecure about himself. He knows he’s a good actor, a good director, a fucking professional. But something about Demon Dean cuts through all that and suddenly he’s a kid again, doubting everything. It makes him even harder. The pitch black eyes and the waves of menace rolling off Demon Dean make Jensen legitimately scared of him, even though he knows it’s just a dream.

“Does it feel weird , Jensen?”

Jensen can only moan in response. It’s so fucking good.

“Answer me!”

There’s the cold and heavy weight of a hammer pressing into his Adam's apple, and when Jensen opens his eyes, Demon Dean’s own ice black is all he can see.

“N…no.”

He’s rewarded for his answer by a hard thrust in and upwards. He’s right there, he can taste it.

“N…no.”

Demon Dean mocks him.

“No, it doesn’t look like it, either. Looks like you’re having a blast. Cunt so tight around my fingers. Looks like you’re right where you should be.”

Jensen can’t breathe.

“Say it. Say you feel right here, cunt stuffed full of me.”

“I…”

“Say it, Jensen. Or I’ll stop.”

“Fuck. Fuck… I feel right.”

“That’s it. This is what you’re good for, isn't it? Just a pretty boy to get fucked.”

“Ju-just a pretty boy to get fucked. Fucking… please!”

Demon Dean smiles coldly.

Jensen wakes with a groan, hips still thrusting into the mattress as he soaks the sheets.

More laundry. He should buy more sheet sets.

~~~

Jared pulls Jensen aside a couple of weeks after the call. They’re out with some cast and crew from that week's episode, just relaxing, having some drinks and blowing off steam after a difficult shoot.

Jensen really doesn’t want to be there, doesn’t want to be anywhere, really. But he couldn’t refuse, not without prompting more questions. So he paints on a smile, sticks to beer and tries to let the conversations happen around him without getting involved.

Jared must notice his discomfort and grabs him on a trip to the bathroom.

“You alright, dude?”

Jensen sighs internally. He doesn’t want to do this.

“I’m fine, just tired, y’know.”

Jared cocks his head a little; looks at Jensen too closely.

“You wanna get out of here? I’ll split an Uber with you?”

God yes. But then it will be questions on Monday and he can’t with that.

“No, I’m good. Besides, you’re having a good time. You don’t gotta leave on account of my old ass.”

Another head tilt, Jared really can be a puppy at times. Normally, Jensen adores this caring side of his friend. But he’d give anything to have that focus aimed away from him right now.

“Jen…”

“I’m fine! Okay. I’m fucking tired, it’s been a long week. Let’s just… get another drink or something. Okay?”

Jensen didn’t mean for Dean to come out of his mouth then. It happens, but not usually in temper like that. Jared holds his hands up in surrender and lets Jensen walk past him, back to their group.

~~~

He’s on his knees, Demon Dean’s cock buried in his throat. It hurts, he can’t breathe, but it feels so good.

“Fuck, that’s it. Choke on it. Gonna get that throat all fucked out.”

Jensen moans and digs his fingers into Demon Dean’s hips.

“Gotta help you find Dean’s voice somehow. Know you’ve been having trouble with that.”

Demon Dean runs a hand through his hair as he says it and Jensen forgets to be offended.

“That’s it. That’s it. Pretty mouth on my cock. Just like it should be.”

~~~

Something isn’t right with Jensen. Everyone can see it. He’s just not present anymore. Not totally at least. He gives it his best on set, but he just can’t seem to find the right headspace anymore. Scenes that he would knock out in two takes, max., are taking six/seven/eight now.

Jared is beside himself with worry.

“Jensen, please. If you won’t talk to me, talk to someone, anyone. Please!”

“I’m fine, Jay.”

Weary smile. Tired eyes.

“Jensen. Is this about those dreams you were having?”

“No! Of course not. Anyway, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Jen…”

“Night, Jared.”

~~~

“I should just keep you here, Jensen. In your mind with me, all the time. Think how good it would be, nothing to worry about. Just pleasing me.”

“Please…”

“So fuckin’ pretty. Made to be laid out on silk sheets and just fucked . Over and over and over. This is where you should be.”

“Fuck…”

“Too much pressure out there. Acting, directing, managing your life. Wouldn’t you rather stay here, just us?”

“Yes. Fuck yes. With you.”

~~~

It comes to a head during the filming of ‘The Executioner’s Song’. An absolutely pivotal moment for Dean, and Jensen just cannot get his head in the game. Everyone is frustrated, including Jensen.

But as always, it’s Jared that breaks the spell in the end.

“C’mon, dude. Get it together. I’m sick of redoing this scene.”

It’s said with humour, but Jensen can hear the tension and frustration underneath.

The words spill out of him, without thought.

“I think I’m gonna quit…”

Jared just looks at him, slack-jawed. There’s silence for a minute. Thankfully they’re in a quiet corner of the set while the crew resets the equipment… again.

“What?”

It’s said so softly, Jensen almost doesn’t hear it.

“I think… I’m not cut out for this. I should quit. This isn’t what I should be doing.”

Jensen says it calmly, as if he’s pondering what to have for lunch. But when he looks at Jared again, he’s floored by what he sees.

Jared is crying. His eyes are full of tears, one is tracing its way down his cheek. He’s clenching his jaw, but Jensen can see the wobble. Jensen is reminded of filming ‘All Hell Breaks Loose Part II’, wiping away the stray tear that fell as Dean mourned Sam.

It’s like the fog lifts from Jensen’s eyes. He realises what he just said.

“Jared…”

He reaches out to touch his friend, but Jared turns and walks away without a word.

Jensen just watches, unable to move, as Jared goes to the crew and tells them he needs to go home. The director tries to beg Jared to stay, saying they’re already so behind schedule - a glance in Jensen’s direction at that. Jared is unmoved, though. Jensen hears him say that even if ‘he’ - meaning Jensen again, of course - can get it together, they won’t get anything usable from him today, and he’ll be back on set bright and early tomorrow to get it done.

Shame, hot and sick, fills Jensen. What has he done…

Jared has already left by the time Jensen gets his things together. The car that usually drives them both to and from set is waiting for him, though. Jared had said he was going to make his own way home. No one wanted to argue.

The ride home for Jensen is smothered in thick silence. Not even a goodbye is exchanged with the driver when they pull up outside Jensen’s apartment building.

What has he done…

What has he let himself become?

He spends the evening drinking bourbon from the bottle and stopping himself from calling Jared. Even with the early finish, it’s still late - by normal standards - and he’s tired from the day. The bourbon speeds the process along and it’s not long before his head is hitting the pillow.

Jensen is well into the dream before he realises this is one. It’s almost like lucid dreaming, these nightly visits with Demon Dean. But he’s never tried to control them, just takes what Demon Dean gives to him.

Tonight, though, tonight he sees through the veil. So to speak.

Demon Dean is above him, watching him with those blank, black eyes and that cold smile, distorted by the grimace of effort he’s putting into fucking Jensen as hard as he can. He’s got two fingers buried in Jensen’s mouth at the same time and he’s spouting the usual shit, but this time, Jensen knows it’s shit.

“God, wish I could fuck your mouth and cunt at the same time. Both so fucking tight and pretty.”

He thrusts deeply and Jensen groans around the fingers before spitting them out in disgust. Demon Dean doesn’t seem to notice.

“Fuckin’ perfect here, right where you’re meant to be, getting this tight hole fucked sloppy. Just what you’re good for.”

Jensen snaps, or breaks free. He’s not sure.

With a roar of anger, he bucks his hips upwards, uses the momentum to shove Demon Dean over onto his back. Jensen goes with him, ends up straddling his waist, feeling Demon Dean’s hard cock resting against his ass, no longer inside him.

With the demon beneath him, Jensen raises a fist to punch him, break his nose, his cheekbone, his jaw, anything. But those depthless black eyes and that cold fucking smirk stop him. Demon Dean would welcome the violence. Jensen is not a violent man, not unless he has to be.

He has to be here. Has to take back control in the only way Demon Dean understands.

He wraps his hand around the throat beneath him, squeezes just a little. Just to test.

“You fed my demons long enough. No more.”

The laugh that comes from below him is a little strained, a little wheezy. Jensen brings his other hand up, wraps them both around Demon Dean's neck, thumbs crossing over the Adam's apple.

“Fed your demons? Jensen, you created mine.”

Jensen squeezes. Hard. Tight. His arms shake with the effort. The face beneath him goes red, then purple. But the body never fights to break free. The hips under him squirm and thrust.

Tighter.

Harder.

Jensen is sure something is going to pop, unsure if it will be him.

Right as his arms are about to go limp, unable to hold the tension anymore, he feels the cock behind him twitch, kick and then shoot hot over his ass. When he looks into the face under him, the eyes appear to roll back.

But instead they just morph to green, the same green eyes he’s seen in the mirror every day of his life.

His hands fall from his own throat and the body under him takes a deep breath.

Not Demon Dean anymore, only Jensen.

Jensen wakes with a shout, his hips churning into the sheets and mattress below him, cock still spurting cum into his boxers.

He’s soaked in sweat and when he realises what woke him - strangling Demon Dean and watching him morph back into Jensen - he feels new cold sweat break out all over him.

Is it over? Is he free from Demon Dean’s spell?

He needs to call Jared…

But first, where did he put those new sheets?

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