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angelwithdemonictendencies · 1 year

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there has never been anything but hunger; lock me in a cage and wake up to gnawed bars and a guilty smile.

am34 x reader: that’s one way to relieve those wedding day jitters. (sharper prt. 2).

(warnings: blasphemous filth (actually blasphemous, sorry to the institution of marriage), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), lots of wedding imagery, cheating (again, do not cheat! don’t do it!), marking, two morally not so great characters, trying to fix a legitimate emotional conflict with sex (does not work), idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: auston girls and guys and such, i hope this is worth the wait, i really did my best. and the big topic we tackle today is: marriage! hard to believe, but i actually love weddings and marriage and the whole thing - this is just a fictional story that showcases a potential (toxic) outlook that someone could have. sorry to mm16. sick goal the other night. thanks for all the love on the last one, this one isn’t really as deep. i kind of dislike this one, my writing doesn’t feel as good, the flow isn’t there, but i’m posting anyway, learning not to cringe at myself. takeaways, takeaways - if you’re looking to escape, look to yourself first. you are the only vessel by which freedom is achieved. thanks for being kind and gentle with me. i have one more on the way before I take a nice long break, and it’s going to be tz11. on the way, see you soon. gif is not mine. go canucks. sometimes the person in the mirror knows before you do. listen.

it was normal to be nervous on your wedding day, you kept telling yourself. but was it normal to be this nervous? you had no way of knowing. everything was going to be fine, you recited over and over in your mind. of course, there was the dreadful unspoken condition: everything was going to be fine, as long as everything was perfect.

you were alone for the first time in what felt like decades, surrounded by the final silence you would get today, maybe longer. so there you sat, on a wide loveseat in front of the vanity, trying to make sense of the you staring back from inside the mirror. she was completely ready, all done up, the picture of beauty and elegance and innocence in white. she touched her veil absentmindedly.

there was something deeply unsettling in her eyes, like she was begging, but what did she want? you tried, but couldn’t understand her, as if the frame of the mirror translated her pleas into some unintelligible language before the words could reach you.

a knock at the door broke the spell of your self-induced trace. you looked around, still alone. “don’t come in, mitchie!” you called, knowing everyone else would be heading to the ceremony. “it’s bad luck!”

the low, dark laugh you were met with seemed to freeze the hot, anxious vibration that was curdling the air, sent a shiver down your spine. “not mitchie, angel,” he said as he opened the door and stepped through. “better.”

you turned in your seat to face him, found him leaning against the opposite wall, hands in his pockets. the room was expectant.

“hilarious,” you said, crossed your legs. “what’re you doing here, auston?”

his eyes shone as he clicked his tongue. the sound unearthed memories that you had gone to painstaking efforts to bury, had fought tooth and nail to shovel into a grave, all revealed by a single, mindless sound. you let out something like a groan, maybe closer to a roar, at the realization.

“nevermind,” you said, a rough edge to your voice. “i don’t care. just get out. i don’t have time for this.”

he remained unfazed by your momentary outburst, tilted his head, leveled you with one of his smirks, flashing his teeth. you could practically still feel them on your neck, feel his weight pressing into your back, his hand around your throat. desire welled up inside of you, as much as you scolded it back into its place.

he began to slowly amble towards you, seemingly without a care in the world. “givin’ me attitude, now, are you, angel?” he asked, cocky smile alight. “something must be wrong, normally so good.” he stopped in front of you, waited. “what’s got you so worked up?”

you peered up at him through your veil, felt your anger and self-loathing subside into something like sadness, like longing. hunger. he took one hand from his pocket, gently lifted it to your face, moved your veil to the back of your hair. you let him, perhaps desperate for someone to see you as you felt. as you were.

“tell me,” he rasped. and something about his voice, his presence, always made you want to do just as he said.

you let out a shaky sigh. “i’m a terrible person,” you admitted. “i’ve known for forever that i want to marry mitchie, but suddenly i’m questioning everything.” you took a deep breath as he ran the edge of your veil between his thumb and forefinger. “what if i wake up tomorrow, and all i feel is trapped? i never want to resent him.” your fist clenched at the idea. “what if it’s not enough?” you averted your eyes when you finished, terrified by the prospect, terrified by what his reaction might be.

“poor angel,” he said, and you could tell that he meant it. he hummed, continued to play with your veil, thought for a moment. “i can’t help with tomorrow,” he said, sounding almost sorry, “but i can help with right now.” he took your jaw in his hand. “and i think, right now, you need to feel free, hm? is that what you want?”

you whimpered, softened into his hand at his utterly clairvoyant recognition. “let’s see then,” he cooed, “when was the last time you felt free, angel?”

the words all but tumbled out of your mouth, the truth desperate to be unshackled. “that night,” you squeaked. “with you.”

fire sparked in his eyes. “yeah?” he asked. “that night in your basement, against the wall, when anyone could have seen? that was freedom?” you nodded. “do you need to be reminded what that feels like, angel?”

“please,” you begged.

that was enough. he smiled so dangerously, so enchanting that you barely noticed him lower himself down next to you on the seat, no guilt or anxiety registered when he shifted you onto his lap, hiked up the white silk of your dress, let it pool around your hips as he slid his thumbs in circles on the tops of your thighs.

“i’ll stop if you want me to,” he said in a rare moment of pause.

you thought for a moment. “i love him,” you said, earnestly, honestly. he gripped the sides of your thighs, set you into a rhythm of motion on his lap.

“i know,” he rasped, a smug expression lighting up his face. you both knew you hadn’t said no. “but what do you want?”

you rolled your hips, groaned. “right now?” you asked, running a hand through his hair and taking hold.

“you know right now is all i can offer you,” he reminded you.

“right now i want you, auston,” you admitted to yourself more than him.

“good girl,” he said before tilting his lap up into your core, the fabric a delicious friction. “let’s not ruin your makeup, hm, angel?” he mused as you ground down harder, feeling him, thick and stiff, wanting, beneath you. “looks so pretty, yeah?”

you whined at his praise, moaned as you grew even more wet, made you wish you could feel his lips on yours again, on your neck, feel his teeth and his hands treat you rough enough to hurt.

“what do you say, pretty girl? just something quick before you walk down the aisle?” he stilled your hips with a firm grip, felt your folds with a finger, smirked. “so good for me, always so ready.”

“please,” you pleaded. “please, auston, need to feel you, been needing you so bad.” you lifted your hips up higher to unzip him, take him out, feel him grow harder still in your hand.

he groaned as you pumped him up and down. “brat’s got no manners, hm? too hungry for my cock?” you nodded, he let out a low laugh as you guided him to your core. “’s okay,” he conceded, “angel’s too needy to be good.”

he thrust up into you, grunting at the sensation, holding fistfuls of white silk at your hips as you adjusted to his fullness, the stretch, the beginning of the hunger being satisfied. “feel you so much,” you choked out, “more, auston, please.”

he angled his hips up, hit that sensitive part inside of you, set a rough and hard pace in and out. “love when you beg for my cock, angel,” he rasped, grabbing hold of your veil and tilting your head back. “always ask so pretty.”

he blew onto the open expanse of your neck. “if i was just a little worse, i’d mark you up,” he groaned. you moaned at the prospect. “make everyone in that church see how hungry you are for me.”

you shook your head, grasped at his hair with amplified feeling in a wordless attempt to convince him not to. but you clenched hard around him, forcing a grunt from deep in his chest. “liked that, did you?” he said, the breath of his words heating up your neck, leaving a shiver in their wake. “liked me all over you, angel? feeling me everywhere?”

you nodded, rolled your hips to meet his thrusts, wished he could kiss you, leave his marks on you. “love to feel you,” you whined.

“i know,” he said smugly, moving a hand to press into your lower stomach, making the tension inside of you spiral. “know you love to be good for me.” he let go of your veil, slid his hand down to your clit and teased you carefully.

you moaned loudly, lost the strength in your neck, let your head roll back in pleasure. “’m so close, please, auston,” you begged. “please let me cum, want to cum for you so bad. m, god-”

he groaned, half-laughed, let the title sink in. “i like that, pretty girl.” he rubbed you faster, the pressure coiling hot inside of you both. “so needy,” he bit out, “can’t just be his sweetheart, hm?” he taunted, “have to be my angel, too, yeah?”

you tugged at his hair again in punishment for his statement, however true it may have been.

he hissed. “brat.” he pressed his palm harder into your stomach. “cum, angel. cum like you need to.”

you did as told, squeezed around him, fluttering beautifully as he caught you into his chest, his final groans filling the white room, forever staining it with something dark.

as your fevered breaths returned to normalcy, you looked around, into his deep eyes, with something that resembled clarity. the silk of your dress, the mesh of your veil, it would never be the same, now that it had been gripped in his hands. much like you.

your exhale was a revelation. “i’m probably a terrible person,” you said, but without the weight it once carried.

he looked up, adjusted the veil on your head to sit perfectly again. “maybe,” he said. “anytime you feel like being terrible, angel, you find me.” his words were like an order, one you were all too willing to comply with.

he smirked. “now, c’mon, mitchie’s waiting.”

and even if you really were so terrible, could you chalk it up to anything besides simply wanting more? to being just so impossibly hungry?

as long as you were hungry, you’d be free forever. and for that, you would never be sorry.

fin.

#nhl #nhl smut #hockey #hockey smut #smut #dirty imagine #auston matthews #auston matthews smut #auston matthews x reader #toronto maple leafs #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #trevor zegras #trevor zegras smut

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ajwamiju · 5 months

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Scene 1: 'The Queen of Modern Horror'

CW: Demons, fake blood, nothing much yet tbh

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The sky is beautiful tonight.

You stare blankly at the starless night sky, the moon hiding behind the dark grey clouds as raindrops harshly pelt your face and body, doing little to wash the blood from your body. You sigh, both in relief and exhaustion as you glance a little off to your side to see the disfigured face of the murderer of your friends, unresponsive and not breathing.

Slowly sitting up, you stare the demon that had been possessing the murderer in the face, his hand extended towards you with a grin of satisfaction and anticipation. “For thee bihofþe bæ ablæ bihofþe defeaÞ mīn vessel meanſ thee art worthī bihofþe becomæ mīn.”

You stare blankly at the demon speaking in a language you can’t understand, yet somehow you understand clearly what he is speaking. ‘For you to be able to defeat my vessel means you are worthy to become mine.’. Your gaze slowly trails to his outstretched hand and a compelling force for you to take it overwhelms you.

You look back up to the demon, your eyes unfocused and dull as if you have nothing else to live for. Before your decision can be documented, the end credits roll, leaving the ending open to the interpretation of the viewers as well as a sequel to showcase your decision.

“God, that was great,” Kasumi, your good friend and manager compliments as she leans back on the sofa and places her arm over her eyes to re-adjust from watching the movie for two whole hours. “When your and Masaki’s characters thought it was over but the movie still had half an hour left was actually a good plot twist.”

“Well, Director Ukai Senior is well-known for plot twists like that.” You comment as you stand up to turn the lights back on. “You said the critics were impressed by this movie?”

“Yeah, the movie critics were absolutely STUNNED by your acting and storyline, it’s a box office hit.” Kasumi answers as she groans from the lights turning on, readjusting her vision to the new lighting. “Director Ukai Senior wants to make a sequel, it’s going to be tough to live up to people’s expectations.”

“No, no, Kasumi. Not the professional movie critics.” You clarify as you head back to the sofa. “The online critics.”

“Oh, you mean the horror junkies making movie reviews on the internet? Loved it. Said it’s a gem in the midst of the mediocre horror movies these days.”

Your lips tug into a smile of satisfaction, when Kasumi gave you the job, you were a bit skeptical and weren’t as enthusiastic as you have a reputation to uphold as being the ‘Queen of Modern Horror’. You’re glad you trusted your gut and did the job anyway. Ukai Ikkei was a bit tough to work with since he’s strict and a bit of a perfectionist, but he seemed to have favoured you and your experience as he listened to any input you gave to the script to make it less cheesy and better.

“I’ve got to give it to Yamasaki, most script writers take offense when the actors make suggestions to the storyline to make it better but she actually took time to consider and stuff. She’ll make it far in the script writing industry.” You comment as you remind yourself of the meek girl who wrote the fantastic movie script.

“Oh yeah! The online critics also complimented her again and again for her unique storyline. They say it’s a cliche that’s made fresh.” Kasumi says with a grin. “I think she’s starting the sequel for the movie as we speak.”

“Excellent, I hope to work with her again soon.” You say as you stretch your long legs on the sofa. “What else has the internet been saying?”

“Um… most are complimenting the movie… but I guess some are kind of comparing to Ukai Junior’s new movie.” Kasumi answers, thinking back to what she’s read. “The one starring Suna Rintarou.”

“Oh, you mean the thriller-gore fiasco of a movie, ‘The Crypts’? That’s also a great movie, the genius horror director genes run in the Ukai family.” You say with a nod of approval. “Suna’s acting is also great in the movie, his role as the killer in the movie looked so realistic even I was spooked.”

“You know, you and Suna are dubbed the ‘King and Queen of Modern Horror’, it’s weird that you’ve never acted in a movie together.” Kasumi comments absentmindedly as she opens her phone to look at the incoming reviews. “I think it would be one of the best movies of the generation if you two starred in the movie together.”

“I was wondering that as well, actually. I’d love for an opportunity to act with him, like I don’t even care if I end up covering my face for the role of the antagonist, I just want to star in a movie with him.”

“I’ll try to find a role for you that also stars him. I think it’d be a good opportunity for you both.” Kasumi says with a grin.

“I will literally bow at your feet if you ever manage to do that.” You say with a laugh. “I know damn well that movie will be the talk of all media if we star in the same movie.”

“Count on me, girlie. I’ve got your back.”

That was what you said to Kasumi about three months ago, thinking that the movie you’d star in with Suna Rintarou was going to be a horror movie, as you expected. But to your horror and confusion, the script in your hand is the farthest thing from a horror movie script.

“‘Sumi… when I said I want to star in a movie with Suna Rintarou, I didn’t mean a romance drama. And a series at that!” You mutter as you re-read the script your friend handed to you.

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Taglist: @mirophobic @atrashsith @lilith412426 (Drop it here to be included in the taglist!)

#suna rintarō #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou #haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #suna smut #suna fic #suna fluff #hq fluff #hq smut #hq x reader #hq suna #suna rintaro x y/n

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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year

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Oscars Night Part 2 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

A/N: So we got Michael's Oscar win… here's Charlotte's! A little fluff and smut with our favs. This gif has nothing to do with the Oscars but he looks damn good so here we are… Enjoy!

Warning: Smut

“And here we have the insanely gorgeous star of the night, Mrs. Charlotte Elsbeth Jordan. Mrs. Jordan, how are you feeling?”

Charlotte slid her hand into Michael Strahan’s as he politely helped her step up onto the platform for her pre-show interview at the 90th Academy Awards. Her stylist had gone for full glam with her outfit, it was a bit more dramatic than she would usually go for but it hit the mark and clearly was a showstopper, which was exactly what Law believed she should be for the night. However, without her husband’s usual arm to steady her, she questioned how she even made it this far down the carpet by herself.

“I am doing amazing, thank you! So excited to be here.” She offered him and the camera a dazzling white smile, which expertly hid the massive waves of anxiety crashing over her.

Her eyes carefully examined the chaotic terrain of the red carpet and wondered silently how her peers sauntered down these red carpets with such ease and confidence. It was certainly not her first award show, it was not even her first time at the Oscars. It was, however, her first time as a nominee and she felt like a fawn testing out its wobbly new legs for the first time. Despite all the award shows and events she had gone to in her career, tonight felt as if she had ascended into a whole new level of terrifying. And it did not help that she had to make it through the evening without the one person who could keep her anxiety in check, the only person who knew the right words to pull her back from the edge of anxiety and doubt.

“Well, first, you look absolutely stunning. Tonight is a huge night for you as a first-time nominee. But it could also be a significant historic night for you and the film industry. You are only one of three women nominated for Best Song and Best Actress in the same year. And you could become the second Black woman to win best actress, and the youngest person to become an EGOT in history. How does that all feel? Are you excited?”

She let out a quick and light chuckle, “No pressure at all, right??” She paused and shrugged. “But honestly, I am trying to not think too much about all of that. I just… I just strive every day to do my best work and be the best vessel for other people’s stories that I can be. Naomi really was the embodiment of that for me. And given the reckoning that is happening across the country, but particularly in our industry over the last few years, I think Naomi’s story is too familiar for far too many people. And it has been great to see the conversations this film has started and how it really centers the journey of survivors. So I am just so proud and honored to be part of it. And while the recognition from my peers this season has been incredible, I am more happy about that. So I’m just looking forward to performing tonight and celebrating the best of the best in our industry. I try not to get too caught up in all the other stuff.”

Her role in the indie film, Bird Set Free, was timely and deeply personal for Charlotte due to her own struggles with abuse. The film tells the story of Naomi, an aspiring songwriter who is assaulted by her boss at her part-time job. The project, loosely based on the screenwriter’s own life, followed Naomi’s journey to recovery and shed real light on the harsh impacts of trauma on survivors. With this role, Charlotte had the rare opportunity to both play the main character and dust off her songwriting skills by contributing to many of the songs showcased throughout the film. As a survivor of abuse herself, Charlotte knew her performance tonight was her moment ensure her performance of “She Used to Be Mine” reflected her character’s and her own experience overcoming trauma. She had poured all that pain from her own journey into that ballad, creating one of her most emotional songs yet.

“That is amazing and we wish you all the best. Before you go, I do have to ask, you are missing the other Michael tonight. I know he is out promoting a little movie folks may not have heard of… just a billion dollar cultural phenomenon.”

Charlotte’s lips curled into a soft smile, her sadness still coloring the edges though she tried to hide it.

“Yes, Michael is promoting Black Panther with the rest of the cast overseas. I am sad my partner in crime isn’t with me but this is a historic moment for him and the entire cast so I couldn’t be prouder. And our marriage works because we both do what we love. So I know he is cheering me on.”

She had repeated that refrain over and over to herself for the last week since Michael revealed he would have to go out of the country to promote the film and would not make it back in time for the Oscars. Work was work and Marvel required a lot of the cast to promote this historic blockbuster. But she would not lie to herself and pretend it was not still disappointing. And while she knew she could not say this to the well-intentioned reporters interviewing her, deep down today only served as a reminder of the downside to being married to a fellow actor: neither of you could be as present as you wanted or should be.

“But,” she continued. “He sent a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and champagne for me and the team while I was getting ready. So if I can’t have him, champagne is a decent replacement.” Her light laughter was cut short by two strong hands wrapping around her waist and settling on her hips, her body pulled back into a familiar embrace.

“Hey honey bee…”

Charlotte whipped around, her legs almost giving out beneath her as she found her husband standing behind her. Her hands immediately ran over his arms as if she had to feel him to believe he was truly there and not a ghost. Tears sprang to her eyes as she drank him in, any and all words stolen right out of her throat.

“W-what…. H-how?” She mumbled as he pulled her into a kiss, her interview long forgotten. The kiss was brief but she felt it, all of his whispers to relax, urges to breathe, and desires for her to enjoy her moment.

Just a moment in his arms made Charlotte feel more at peace than she had been since she woke up this morning. She pulled back from their embrace to study him, her brain still refusing to believe he was really with her and not across the world. She could not stop the wave of lust that hit her as she took in his tux. It baffled her how he always managed to look so damn good.

“Where there’s a will…” he shrugged, smiling down at her and offering her a sly wink. She dabbed her eyes to stop the tears from falling, knowing she would never hear the end of it from her team if she ruined her makeup before the show even started.

“That is just beautiful. Safe to say you are surprised?”

“Yes, 100%! He called me earlier, pretending he was in a whole different time zone,” her tone playfully accusatory as she poked his side. “Usually, I’m pretty hard to get a surprise over on but he definitely got me this time.”

Michael leaned over and offered a quick peck on her nose, Charlotte’s face scrunching up as she blushed.

“You two are definitely going to be relationship goals by the end of the show. Michael, it’s always great to see you and best of luck, Charlotte.”

Given they had not seen much of each other in the last two months since Charlotte was doing Oscar’s press and Michael was promoting the film, the pair found it difficult to keep their hands off each other as they finished the rest of the carpet. With Michael’s calming presence by her side, Charlotte did not desire to rush through the carpet as she normally did. Instead, she savored the moment, posing and grinning and joking with Michael as photographers took their pictures.

Charlotte found it hard not to simply stare at Michael the entire time though. Words could not describe how elated she was to have him there. She could not explain it but the outcome of the evening mattered significantly less to her now that he was by her side. Charlotte was never one to fuss over awards. The only one she had ever truly cared about winning was her Tony. After all, she had risked everything for that shot, a 20% chance at an award she dreamed about since she was old enough to have ambitions.

She wanted the others, aimed for that status of EGOT. But she was young and knew it could take decades to do so. She wanted it, but she also knew this would not be her only chance if it did not work out. That was the reality she chose to remain grounded in. But whatever the outcome, she knew Michael would help her enjoy the night and not obsess over what was to come.

She barely had time to enjoy the first half hour of the show or Michael before she was whisked away from her front row seat to prepare for her performance. This was the only portion of the evening that did not make her nervous. Charlotte’s acting chops were only outdone by her own singing talent. Though she never wanted to a full-time singer, she always gravitated toward roles that allowed her to also sing, which is why musicals were perfect for her. It was as thoughtless as walking or breathing for her to sit at a piano and sing. She just let the words and music consume her, and the audience just melted away like ice on summer day. She could do that in her sleep.

She took one last deep breath before the curtain opened and the spotlight came down on her. She blocked out everyone and everything as she listened to the opening refrain of the song and began to sing. There were no frills or hooks in her performance tonight. It was simply her and an orchestra of all women of color behind her as she sung her heart out. She still remembered the day she wrote this song. She poured out all of the grief and regret she once felt for the pieces of her that died after her ex, the pieces she, at the time, believe she could never get back. She recalled that hopelessness as if it was still part of her, still had its claws so deeply rooted in her soul. She was no longer that woman, but that was who Naomi was when she wrote it and that song represented her and Naomi and countless survivors at their lowest points, when the road to recovery seemed too dark, when all you could do was drown in the regret of the person you weren’t in anymore. It was them at their most vulnerable and Charlotte, ever a performer, showed that with every note.

It was not until the final note played that she came back to reality, her mind unable to ignore the standing ovation and cheers that rung out around her. Her eyes immediately fell to Michael though, whose cheers could be heard above the rest. He gave her a discrete thumbs up and mouthed, “I love you,” as the show went to commercial break and the lights went down.

Like a well-oiled machine, she had no time to rest before she was ushered backstage and back around to her seat before the commercial break ended. She hated that her categories were among the last of the evening. She enjoyed the Oscars but sitting and waiting all night was not her idea of fun. And though it was great to see friends and people she admired win throughout the night, she could not deny that it felt as if she was dragging toward the end of the show.

She rolled her neck and straightened up in her seat as John Legend walked up to the microphone and launched into his scripted speech. His words sounded muffled in her ears as she sat there, unable to register anything. She was sure whatever his spiel was about the importance of music in film was true but now that her category was mere moments away, all the anxiety she had pushed off was crashing over her like a tsunami.

Her mind only checked back into reality when she heard the announcer read her name and heard a few bars from her song in the movie. She instinctively sat up and put a smile on her face, knowing the camera would be on her from that moment forward, win or lose. Her hand sat in Michael’s lap as he held her hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles in the inside of her wrist, his nonverbal cue to relax. His grip was tight but not unwelcome as she waited to hear if she would make history.

“And the Oscar for Best Song goes to…” Charlotte closed her eyes as she waited with bated breath, the seconds inching by as John opened that damn envelope. “Charlotte Elsbeth Jordan, She Used to Be Mine.”

Charlotte’s face immediately fell into her hands as she heard her name, her shock paralyzing her in her seat. Everyone around her jumped up with loud applause, cheers and whistles filling her ears. It was not until Michael discreetly tugged on her arm that she broke out of her trance and stood up. She hugged him tightly and kissed him before making her way to the stage.

After her quick obligatory hug to John as he handed her the statue, she stood in front of the mic and waited for a moment until the cheers died down. She examined the card in her hand, reading it for a moment.

“Wow… I am honestly just in shock. Literally just wanted to read it to make sure it really said my name,” she chuckled, a few cheers and laughter breaking out as she paused, her brain moving too slow to remember her speech.

“T-this… this is an amazing honor.” Her voice broke slightly as she continued, the weight of this moment starting to truly hit her as she spoke.“T-thank you to the Academy, it is a true honor to be recognized by one’s peers. U-Um, thank you to the entire team that worked on this song with me. It was a blessing and honor to tell this story with you. Thank you to Christina, our amazing screenwriter, for trusting us with this story, for trusting me with your story. I… I can’t think straight and left my notes at my seat so I am saying honor a lot, which is weird,” Charlotte rambled. “And now I’m rambling, everyone who knows me knows how on brand this is. So I will just say apologies to anyone I forgot. But thank you all so much. No song is created alone and I owe this to all of you for pouring your souls into this piece of art.”

“Lastly, to my dad and siblings and my friends, thank you for listening and enduring all the terrible songs I wrote when I was 10. Your unwavering support of my love for music got me here. And to my husband, thank you for all your love and dedication to me and to supporting my dreams. I love you so much. Thank you!”

She lifted the Oscars in the air slightly and smiled before turning to walk off stage. As she passed folks backstage, everyone offered her hugs and congratulations. However, Charlotte barely registered any of it, she just let the PAs guide her where she needed to go to be back in her seat for Best Actress. She still could not believe that had truly happened. Part of her was still waiting for someone to find her and tell her it was a mistake and rip it out of her hands. She was officially an EGOT, something she had always wanted but felt so far out of reach. And it was finally hers.

“See, I told you,” Michael whispered as she settled back into her seat. He brought her hand to his lips, kissing the that held her wedding band. “That’s why I’m always right.

“How could I not know that by now??” She whispered as she leaned over to kiss him on the lips. And he was not wrong, Michael said every day since she was nominated that she would walk away with at least one Oscar tonight. She just had not believed him.

“That’s what I’ve been sayin’ this whole time,” he joked. “An EGOT… man, I’m so proud of you, baby.”

They shared another deep kiss before the lights flickered, signaling that the commercial was over and the cameras were about to roll again. Charlotte’s stomach did backflips as she watched Mahershala Ali walk up to the mic. This was the award that would truly determine how she felt about this historic night. Of the two awards she was nominated for, this was the one that held more weight to her. She was proud to win Best Song, but Charlotte was the most critical of her acting. It was the craft she had to go to school for, study, and train to be her best at. She never believed she was a strong actor. And though she would not be all that disappointed if she lost, she knew it would be the affirmation she needed to finally cast all doubt aside.

“These five women gave us performances that blew us away. From a spunky young teen to a survivor trying to rebuild her life, these performances made us laugh, made us cry, and made us question our world. These are the nominees for Best Actress.”

Charlotte watched the reel closely, her heart filling with pride as she watched snippets from some of her own personal favorite performances from the year. This was a tough category, and Charlotte knew she would be happy to see every single woman walk away with it. She wanted it, but at least she knew it would go to someone truly deserving if she lost. Michael’s grip was now on her thigh through the slit in her dress and almost painful as she, once again, straightened up for the camera.

“And the Oscar goes to… Charlotte Elsbeth Jordan, Bird Set Free.”

She shook her head in disbelief but she stood up quicker this time, tears already streaming down her face. She repeated the same path toward the stage after hugging and kissing her husband.

“Wow ok, being up here a second time is kinda perfect so I can say everything I forgot the first time.” She paused as the crowd applause renewed. “U-um ok, thank you once again to the Academy. First, I want to say what a blessing it is to be even included among this insanely talented group of nominees. I want to thank the entire cast, crew, production team of this movie. I was so insanely proud to come to work each day and bring this story to life. And proud to wake up daily and portray the story of Naomi, a story that is too familiar to myself and many of us in this room and many of you watching tonight: the story of a survivor who took their power back and decided to thrive. Our world and our industry has a ways to go but I want every survivor here and watching to know that I see you, I love you, and this is for you.” She paused as the crowd applauded her.

“Lastly, I want to thank my husband, Michael. Your…” she looked up at the ceiling for a moment as she tried to stop tears from falling. “Your love for me is unlike anything I have ever known and there isn’t enough time or enough words to adequately express how grateful I am to walk this Earth each day with you by my side and spend those days loving you and being loved by you. There has never been a dream that you have not encouraged me to chase and never been a door that you haven’t helped me push open when I doubted whether I could do it myself. I would not be here tonight if it weren’t for your unwavering belief in me. Thank you for being you and for always encouraging me to be my fullest and most authentic self. I love you to the moon and back over and over and over again.” She blew him a kiss before smiling and offering a last broad thank you to the entire crowd before turning to exit the stage.

From there, the night felt like a blur of congratulations, interviews, and parties. She endured all of them, the chaos and frenzy of every event, though she really just wanted to retreat to her hotel room with her husband.

Finally, on their drive to the third after party, Charlotte said, “How committed are you to going to this party?”

Michael raised his eyebrow and chuckled, “Tapping out already, old lady?”

She rolled her eyes, “Shut uppppp. Seriously, you wanna just head back to the hotel?”

Michael merely shrugged. “Not up to me, baby girl. It’s your night, Oscar winners get whatever they want for at least a week. So you’re callin’ the shots. So what do you want?”

She tilted her head as she studied him for a moment, the lust she felt earlier in the night returning with full force now.

She slid across the limo to sit by him, her legs straddling his hips. It was a bit dangerous in a moving car but she did not care. She leaned in and kissed him softly, before moving down to his neck. She sucked softly on his sensitive spot, smirking as a moan escaped his lips.

“You know what I want, baby,” she whispered in his ear, his hands immediately going to grip her ass.

“Aye, brah!” Michael called out to the driver.

“Yes, sir?”

“Take us back to the hotel. I’ll triple your tip if you get there within 10 minutes.”

Charlotte laughed as they continued making out like two horny 20 year olds. Charlotte willed Michael to fill her right then and there, but he refused, deciding they could wait until they got to their suite. By the time they reached their hotel, in record time thanks to their motivated driver, Charlotte’s need was so overwhelming she felt as if she might die if he did not touch her.

The moment their suite door slammed suit, the pair were all over each other. They made quick work of removing Charlotte’s dress as they kissed hungrily, Michael pushing her body against the wall of the hotel room as he kissed every inch of skin he could find.

Charlotte let out a small yelp as Michael hoisted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He threw her down, immediately hooking his fingers on the small fabric of her thong and sliding it down. Michael placed a trail of soft gentle kisses slowly down her body, starting at her neck and working his way down to her soft stomach. He took special care with her breasts, his mouth engulfing her nipple as he sucked lightly. Her groans of pleasure filled his ears and spurred him on as he switched sides, ensuring he gave each equal treatment. He knew Charlotte loved nipple play and he knew exactly which buttons to press to turn her into a blubbering mess in his hands.

By the time Michael reached her lower stomach, Charlotte was panting, her pleads for more were on the tip of her lips, her pussy aching to be touched.

“B-baby, please,” she begged.

“Let me take care of you, honey bee,” he whispered, placing a kiss and softly biting her inner thigh.

“You know how much I love you, Els? How fuckin’ perfect you are?” He asked as he alternated between soft kisses and gentle bites that drove Charlotte wild. Each kiss got closer and closer to Charlotte’s aching core but not close enough.

His hands pushed her legs open, her flower already dripping wet for him. He licked his lips as he prepared for his favorite meal.

He immediately dove between her legs, his tongue caressing her sensitive bud and causing her back to arch off the bed.

“F-Fuck! J-just like that, baby,” she moaned as a deep shudder of pleasure racked through her body.

Charlotte’s hands gripped the comforter as he pushed her up a mountain of pleasure. The things Michael could do with his mouth were otherworldly. Charlotte quite literally often saw stars. He knew everything there was to know about Charlotte and her body. He did not have a college degree but he had a ph.D in his honey bee. So every time he was between her legs, he made sure she was more than well taken care of, often taking her body and pleasure to new heights she could not even fathom.

As he inserted two fingers inside her, Charlotte knew it would be one of those marathon, new heights type of evenings. Her moans and screams created a symphony throughout their hotel suite as Michael spelled out his love for her with every kiss, lick, and touch.

Feeling how close she was to her peak, Michael increased his speed, curling his two fingers into her G-spot.

Charlotte let out a breathless scream as Michael sent her over the edge. Her words were incoherent as waves of pleasure pulled her deeper and deeper under the surface.

He gave her no time to recover as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of her at a relentless pace as he emerged from between her legs. He roughly pressed his lips to hers, allowing Charlotte to taste herself on his lips.

“Just like honey,” he whispered, causing her to smile as he recalled something he said to her the first time they had sex, the genesis of his second favorite nickname for her.

She whimpered against his lips as the pleasure became overwhelming.

“I-It’s too much, B-Bakari,” she moaned as she felt her orgasm building again too fast and too soon.

“Take it, baby. I know you can,” Bakari whispered in her ear, his deep voice causing Charlotte to acquiesce to his will immediately. She would do whatever he asked of her, ride the waves of whatever pleasure he was willing to give her. “You got one more, baby girl. I know you do.”

Bakari smirked as her eyes rolled back into her head, her mouth falling open with every moan. They had been together for years and the sight of her cumming never got old to him. She looked perfect, wild and uninhibited.

It did not take long for his expert ministrations to send her tumbling down yet another earth-shattering orgasm.

Her vision went white as she came on his hand, Michael whispering sweet nothings to her.

“Good girl. That’s right, cum for me, baby.”

He finally removed his hands from inside her, watching her come back to reality.

“You’re…a… fuckin’ menace…” she whispered after a few minutes of silence, causing Michael to chuckle. “I can’t feel my damn legs.”

“You said you wanted me, baby girl. So I’m giving you all of me. And there’s still a lot left.”

He gently slapped her thigh, spurring her to push herself up on her forearms.

“Hey,” she grabbed his arm and pulled him in for a soft kiss. The entire evening had been frenzied and chaotic. She just wanted one moment that was slow and intimate, a true moment of quiet between the pair of them before the night was over. “Thank you, Bakari. Tonight was perfect. I don’t des-”

He stopped her and captured her lips with another kiss before saying, “Aye, none of that today. You deserved every moment of it and more. I’ll never let you forget that. Now lay back down so I can keep showing you how I proud I am of you, aight?”

She laughed and laid back on the soft comforter and nodded. “I’m all yours baby.”

Tag list: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @reelwriter19 @bangtanxmegan @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @msniaimani @hi888888sworld @destinio1 @lynaye1993

***

AN: Bird Set Free is a fake movie, of course lol but She Used to Be Mine is a real song if folks were wondering - from the musical Waitress. I’m obsessed with it.

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii #michael b jordan smut

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dapperrokyuu · 5 months

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Alright now that I’ve seen the end Slay the Princess, who’s your favorite princess?

Ill do you even better and give you my top 5/the ones Id love to get if I played the game, just to see their sequences in the end and how itd reflect on that version of the player (literally made a list for fun just before you sent this ask, hehe).

Admittedly, a lot of this is informed by aesthetic and then enjoyment of their routes because I came into (watching Manlybadasshero play) the game after some fandom osmosis–thus, understanding I wouldnt have all my thoughts together within one playthrough. So I cant say Ive devoted my satisfactory amount of attention to speak on the princesses’ narrative presence... But I did rewatch their routes and “Thoughts on this vessel?” sections a bit to formulate a stronger opinion. Here we go...! (Buckle in, fellas, haha ha h a…)

1. Adversary/Eye of the Needle

The Adversary and the Eye of the Needle are very hand in hand imo, and I love the progression into a dragon-like appearance for the latter, especially in combination with the cabin becoming akin to a dragon’s den. This (combination of) routes stands out the most to me (as far as Manly has played) because I personally feel its the one where the princess is the most active and engaged. Whether its being beaten to death or running for one’s life, the route was very exciting for me! And it was intriguing how the princess and player felt the most on equal ground because they are both intent on pursuing some objective. Its just that in this case–and this is how this princess exceeds and is an overwhelming presence compared to the player–the princess is set on a choice they dont care to deny and the player is a creature of the habit called “deliberation,” as narrator aside, in-universe reasons aside, the very structure of Slay the Princess has taught you to constantly pause and consider your choices.

It contributes to the tone of the routes so well! Even if you can sit forever in the Outside World, the game progresses like a split second decision and/or that any time given to you is at the princess’s turbulent discretion. In a game where your choices tend to matter most (which, frankly, they do, its kind of the whole point, but you may not know that your choices are what caused this situation yet, lol), the princess seeming to supercede you and the narrative and the concept of death is!!! Powerful and quite something, lol. And poignant, considering *gestures vaguely but particularly at the Narrator*.

Otherwise, I love how theres apparently many more and amusing divergences in this route (that Manly did not showcase) and the ending is pretty cathartic. And to keep this a bit short, yadda yadda, dragon dens is where they store and protect their treasure and in this case, the treasure is fighting you, yadda yadda, as the vessel of growth, the princess’s embracing of the cycle of violence between you two is her latching onto the only avenue of growth she can perceive (as opposed to escaping–since you didnt offer that option prior–and dying since thats tend to be the stop to the concept of growth), yadda yadda-

2. Spectre

This princess’s voicework is probably my favorite! The whispering under the regular voice acting is just really neat, doing a great job setting a tone of something delicate, chilling, and unnerving. The princess’s design shifts between cute and scary very well too! Her personality is probably my fave overall; while her “thoughts on this vessel?” section highlights her embodying kindness and understanding, they only exist to an extent that is fair. Which is, well. Fair. And I think it extra emphasizes the understanding aspect, with how the princess is aware of her circumstances and the injustices that have occurred yet is willing to let bygones be bygones. Shes coy, sincere, and pragmatically deadly, which is a full spectrum of delight for me!

The moment that really gets me regarding her character is when you say youre gonna leave her. Other decisions lead you to working together or demonstrating you have no intention to with some form of violence–both resulting in the Spectre just responding fairly. But the “leave” option truly shows that the Spectre doesnt/never intends to act out in malice, since Spectre responds out of desperation to avoid perpetual loneliness, pain, and emptiness. Theres an aspect of “fairness” here too (youre abandoning and hurting her more after having murdered her), but the choice comes after a breakdown and deliberation as opposed to an immediate retaliation. Even then, Spectre laments that she didnt want things to be this way but youve made her worse. Other stand out moments are when Spectre goes, “Youre funny when youre confused. But I didnt give you permission to touch me,” and the player’s moment of patheticness, lol.

This route really hints onto the meta aspects of Slay the Princess too, which is neat! The whole “want to end the world” convo, Spectre just wanting to go home, reality being what is in front of us vs. static truth/objectivity, whether destruction being one thing leading into another vs. the same thing reborn, glass on the floor, and the narrator being like Spectre as a memory of a person…I dont have much to say here currently–still need to ponder, itd be a whole other conversation, Im a bit tired, lol–but its tons of food for thought that I enjoy! Yay, Spectre!

3. Prisoner

Fun fact: this is a rewriting of the extreme word vomit that was me lamenting over how I was kind of confused about the Prisoner but chose her for the sake of a 5th (note the placing change) and then discovering the absolute genius she is!!! Basically, my only exposure to the Prisoner I had was Manly’s recent playthrough, which contained (what Ill call) the Chained Together variation and didnt even have her “thoughts on this vessel?” section due to the game going into the final sequence immediately after. The Prisoner’s section in that final sequence befuddled me because I couldnt connect much other than a theme of “inevitable change,” and even when I dug up the Prisoner’s “thoughts on this vessel?” elsewhere, I couldnt put it all together…until I watched (what Ill call) the Head Trophy variation in the middle of my initial writeup.

Regarding what I enjoyed prior to recognizing genius, I really enjoyed how the Prisoner conducted herself–her curtness and resignation was very unique. Her form was created as a result of the player cutting off her arm, instilling a matter of fact-ness to her that allows her to slit the player’s throat later (got this from the Wiki, Manly didnt show this part). Upon waking up once again chained and chained even more, I interpreted the cleverness aspect from the Prisoner’s “thoughts on this vessel?” section as being able to come to terms with her situation, play along, and bid her time in hopes that her patience (that she emphasizes) would eventually reward her. After all, the Prisoner was willing to pretend she and the player met for the first time until the player prompts otherwise, even saying they dropped “playing the game”--very meta of her! Thus, I interpreted the Prisoner as the princess completely embodying/accepting her role in the game; she couldnt leave when she defied her role last time, so she was fine continuing to wait this time. As a character who realized they were a character and systematically changed their behavior to attempt a new avenue of escape, I thought that was the extent of the Prisoner’s cleverness and was satisfied…enough.

AND I WAS WRONG. DELIGHTFULLY WRONG. I assumed the Prisoner was completely fine with her potentially only means of escape becoming not one, since she didnt seem upset or disappointed. Which was frankly incorrect, as her rude curtness is a result of her being miffed with you. Why? Because her cleverness actually alludes to the fact she had a plan for escape the entire time, and you utterly fucked it up! Which, tbf, she shouldve shown more reaction than curiosity to dissuade the player, but I digress- During the Head Trophy variation, you realize that the Prisoner had a plan this entire time to deceive the Narrator and she succeeds so well because she also got me and got the player. How often do I get got? It was amazing! From the stare as the Prisoner takes the knife away from the player, to the smile before That All Happens, to the wink as it occurs and after, it may speak to an underestimation thats set up due to the Prisoner’s appearance and behavior, but reflecting on all the signs that She Planned This dismantles that perception and reaffirms that the Prisoner is a person with depth beyond what you expect from her and those in her role. As I viewed the Prisoner as a caricature of the princess’s role in the first place (the whole point is that the Prisoner is exactly like the princess in appearance except the chained/locked up aspect is exaggerated), this route is so striking for me with its interrogation of victimhood, how victims are treated/viewed, and how that may be unintentionally stripped of their personhood and reduced (into a caricature of solely “a victim”). The Prisoner puts it quite nicely when the player attacks and she “suddenly” has a ton of fight in her, stating, “Im not a damsel to be helplessly murdered!” …Im not sure if I put it into words the best, but I hope this is understandable. To top off the topic of Prisoner’s cleverness, its a neat detail (I dont know if this is intentional) that the Prisoner does the opposite of what her prior princess form did: the player cut her arm to free her last time, she cut herself out this time and the player “died” the last time, she “died” this time. Beyond recognizing there was a Narrator beyond them she should fool, the Prisoner also reasoned that since having the player kill her is likely not favorable, dying by her own hand might just be fine! The Head Trophy variation is just more poignant when you note that her “thoughts on this vessel?” section talks about how the Prisoner protected herself when others could not but for her plan to work, she has to put complete faith in another.

As 1000% better the Head Trophy variation is in the Prisoner’s route, I do have a soft spot for the Chained Together variation since, from both the Prisoner and the Narrator’s perspective, it must be a hilarious emotional rollercoaster. The Prisoner’s plan failed and shes now stuck with the loser who made it so…for potentially forever! The Narrator probably oscillates between an uneasy concession that while both gods are not dead, they are locked up forever and an utter dread that things may fall apart at any time and thus, the world is practically doomed with no way to change that. The Prisoner doesnt have to decapitate herself, which makes her freedom extra cathartic in the relief she likely felt and didnt expect…and also extra sad in how she found it was nothing but cold and is quickly taken away. Theres also something to be said about how the player joins the princess in her perspective by chaining himself up and that they both inform each other’s perspective, leading to their escape together: (1) since the princess isnt starving to death, the player also doesnt, which is a surprise to the Voices and (2) the player showing up again signaled that change is indeed possible to the princess, perhaps causing the ability for the world to erode around them. Maybe the latter is the Voices informing the player, causing the change…? But I like to think its the initial thought since the cabin could and shouldve have eroded prior to the player’s arrival, assuming the Prisoner understands the concept of erosion…which, I assume she does- Anyways, the route is as emotional as it is kind of wacky, which is up my alley!

4. Witch

This princess is the one I enjoy the most aesthetically. Im a sucker for both witches and cats, what can I say? The allusion to the fable The Scorpion and the Frog really tickles me, and ultimately, whatever decisions made in this chapter are some form of hilarious. Whether we’re both dying on the floor with broken backs or handing a blade to someone who immediately stabs you, its great. I do enjoy the progression into the Thorn chapter, especially with the immediate regret from the Witch and the following reconciliation in Thorn’s chapter, but Thorn is not as funny and aesthetically pleasing as Witch princess for me, which is why she is not here, haha.

Her “Thoughts on this vessel?” section adds a lot of depth to her, since the way the Witch presents herself is very superficial and guarded. Particularly the statement about the Witch making for a “righteous” heart, in combination with her ability to just slip out of her chains. She couldve freed herself at any time, but chose to stay and confront you. Which I feel speaks to the bitterness aspect, as the Witch feels its only “right” to pursue an answer to her pain–whether it be the player’s penance or punishment. The game’s thoughts on bitterness are made even more poignant when you realize the Witch’s ends are either death (hers and/or yours) or a transformation into another state.

5. Tower

This route is just incredibly cool in how she takes over the narrator and the little divergences of the narration’s phrasing to be in her perspective in the voiceover. The progression into that route was amusing for me to think about because I think the shift of perspective that transforms the princess boils down to either “the princess had the might of a god to have defeated you,” “your sudden stop during the fight was a blessing from god to the princess,” and/or “your sudden stop was because your recognized the value of the princess’s life as larger than your own (‘larger than life,’ referring to her bigger form as the Tower and godhood itself).” The Tower calling you disappointing is funny, but what also sticks out is how she said she wanted company before turning into the Tower. Even as the Tower with the ability to just free herself, she chose to wait for you because thats what she wanted, and I think that plays on the relational idea of “What is a god without a believer?” since she’s willing to have the player as a priest or pet, lol.

How this route differs from the Adversary route is interesting, as the Tower is indeed also an overwhelming presence whose decisions matter more than yours not because her single minded relentless pursuit of it but because of the power to overwrite yours. Its a twist on the player’s and princess’s roles until now, but instead of making them equal like in the Adversary, the roles were reversed on who decides and who is forcefully changed as a result of that decision. Of course, you cant take the ability to choose from us, as a player completely, but its about the best you can do, I imagine. And not to mention the “defiling” aspect when you slay the Tower, dragging her down from godhood to an equal (humanity?) or perhaps her original state of someone who responds to your decision as usual… I think this route connects deeply to the meta aspect of Slay the Princess, since this state is where the princess is closest to the “concept of change” and the concept of their true self as a god. It makes the “thoughts on this vessel?” section very poignant because change in itself is indeed a constantly dominant, terrifying, and arguably divine force in its inevitability.

Honorable Mention to...the Damsel!

I really like the deconstruction of her concept, but that also means I feel that liking her is completely counterintuitive to that very deconstruction, lol. Her route is very straightforward in what it does, but it kind of has to be. Meaning it does what it set out to do very well.

This took a bit and is so much more than you asked for, so thank you for your patience and acceptance. Im just bonkers and bananas, so if I have it partially done, I might as well go all the way instead of going in depth on only one, lol. It was a fun exercise in pondering deeper about the princesses and dipping my toes in the ~meta~, but I will also readily say that Im not at all nearly deep enough into Slay the Princess as a whole to be confident on my takes, so this may have just been a session of Talking Out Of My Booty. Nonetheless, I hope this was enjoyable and thank you for prompting me to think about it! The order of the princesses changed throughout this answer, and it may be fun to guess what order they were written in, lol. Id love to hear about your fave/faves if youre interested in sharing as well~! And please, have a lovely day too!!! c:

#a wild ask appeared!#thanks and also Im so sorry adnbladkj #but also maybe not and youre welcome??? I dunno boss #a showcase of how theres tons of thoughts up there theyre just in a dam constantly threatening to spill out and it either manages to stay #there forever or is a FLOODDDDD- anyways #slay the princess #I guess. in case anyone would find this an enjoyable read- gotta think on the game a ton more but bandwidth mayhaps Ill get there someday #*shrugs* I still gotta get into my cha*ns*w m*n thoughts... <- so I dont spam/mistag lol

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cerastes · 1 year

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Okay, I DO agree that people like Kal'tsit and W have the right to still hate what Doctor did in the past, but the fact that they continue to hold it over their head and not so subtly guilt them over shit they literally have no idea bout in practically every single interaction with them is still pretty shitty. Like, Doctor is Literally Just Sitting Here.

I have to disagree. Kal'tsit and W are very much entitled their bitterness and hatred.

Amnesiac narratives are not particularly mainstream, but neither are they a new thing, and one particular trench they all seem to trip on, even the really good ones, is what I like to call the Point Of View Bias. I define "Point Of View Bias" as the natural bias that we, as readers, players or otherwise members of the audience taking the work in, have in favor of our amnesiac protagonist. The first thing we know about Doctor is that they woke up in a 'sarcophagus' in the middle of a riot and was taken in by people that claim to know them real well and then was immediately thrust, with no memories, into a small case series of skirmishes resulting in a small shadow war against a reactionary movement that, by all means, ideologically speaking, should've been their allies. Then we have all the goofy, endearing aspects of Doctor showcased through other cutscenes, base dialogue, Reels, you name it, such as Vanilla fearing for the life of her metal crab and originium slug pets because there is a very real chance that Doctor might eat them, or even Kal'tsit herself thinking about that time she caught them boiling instant noodles in their mouth. We know of Doctor as the academic that volunteered to teach the younger Operators, like Ifrit and Projekt Red, even giving them homework. This, and much more, constitutes our view of Doctor.

But that's the thing: That's the first thing WE know of. That's the experience WE have had with Doctor, as our partial self-insert vessel, partial character in the setting. We know what's going on with Doctor, in their heart of hearts. We know their thoughts and what dialogue options they can pick, and that feeds into our bias, because we have, simultaneously, more information than the characters (because we know what Doctor thinks and feels) and less information than the characters.

Less? Yes, less, because we started seeing our amnesiac character from the point of their amnesia and on. Kal'tsit and W, the former more so than the latter, know more about the Doctor overall than we do. I want to focus on Kal'tsit here, so I'll immediately address W: I don't think it's shitty of W in the slightest to harbor hatred for Doctor. She survived Doctor. She survived the tactics and strategies that got countless of her kin killed, at the discretion and decision of Doctor. I seriously don't think I need to explain further than that, it's not just an ideological difference, W legit had to survive working under Doctor for what seemed to be a pretty scary period of her life, and had to do so knowing that a lot of her Sarkazian buds would die in each deployment. Keep in mind, if you check W's Files, you'll see how important it is for her that Kazdelian Sarkaz are given their freedom and can abandon the roving mercenary lifestyle. W was sucking up working with the exact antithesis of her ideals because she believed that, ironically, was the quickest, most realistic way to achieve her and Theresa's wishes. I do not think it's shitty at ALL of W to hate Doctor. She is entitled her hatred.

Now, Kal'tsit.

Kal'tsit knows Doctor best. She knows exactly how intelligent and cunning Doctor is. She voices several times that she isn't fully convinced that they aren't lying about the amnesia. At face value, this might seem like a statement made in bad faith. It isn't. She is being fair. She knows Doctor, as a whole, better than the player. The player knows (so far) that Doctor is saying the truth. Kal'tsit knows that the possibility of Doctor acting this well, if they aren't amnesiac at all, is high. It's not that Kal'tsit hates Doctor for no reason and just gives them shit for nothing, that isn't the kind of person that Kal'tsit is, Kal'tsit saw this goofball funny endearing Doctor, in the past, become a well-oiled, invincible war machine, a chess supercomputer that sees not human beings, but pieces. Understand this: Kal'tsit agonizes whenever she sees Doctor being well loved among the Operators not because "grrrr I hate them I must antagonize for no reason", she hates it because this is deja vu. Scout and Ace had nothing but praise for the Doctor, they loved the Doctor, they considered Doctor their biggest weapon in achieving the goals of Babel and Rhodes Island, and yet, especially in Scout's case, they agonized over what had become of this lovable, loving academic, how their metamorphosis into a war machine replaced this person almost entirely.

What's to say Kal'tsit doesn't feel the same, just with far more justified hatred? It's telling, you know, how in the last few chapters of the Reunion Arc, when Kal'tsit and Doctor deploy together, Kal'tsit even jokes around with Doctor for a few seconds before catching herself talking with an old friend and realizing that, no, she can't risk this, she can't risk it again. Kal'tsit makes something clear: Even if Doctor’s memories reawakened, even if Doctor was presented with the chance to reassess their choices, even if they repented, or looking at it the other way, even if Doctor truly forgot everything forever, you cannot change how Kal’tsit sees Doctor. She made clear she won’t let the hate buried deep inside of her bloom, but she has the right to keep it. She has the right to remain angry forever.

And I agree with it. Her emotions matter. Her opinions matter. She knows less than us, but she knows more than us. And regardless of what the truth of the present is, it doesn't erase the past. It doesn't erase her emotions. Kal'tsit has every right to remain skeptical. Kal'tsit has every right to remain hateful and resentful. I do not think it's shitty of Kal'tsit in the slightest to hate Doctor.

That bridge was burned. Again, Kal'tsit is a naturally very loving, very nurturing person. She goes the hell out of her way for others. For Folinic. For the Abyssal Hunters. For Suzuran. For the Sarkaz. For orphans she has absolutely no connection to. Kal'tsit sticks her neck out for everyone she can, whenever she can.

So, let's change our perspective a little: If someone as loving, as truthfully good, as immensely caring and warm as Kal'tsit is, cannot find it within herself to forgive Doctor... Does that say something about Kal'tsit, or does that say something about the old Doctor?

Arknights does a good job at avoiding the Point Of View Bias, and that makes you, the reader, uncomfortable, because the Doctor -- you, to some degree -- are being blamed for things they didn't do. That's good. That's immersive. It's making you feel something. It's that palpable greyness midst black and white, where the most succulent emotions flourish and you can bite into them like a juicy apple. Kal'tsit is a brilliantly written character, and this is no small part of that.

#arknights #kal'tsit #doctor #W

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zebracorn-chan · 2 months

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Now that's Miku Day I feel like I can say this: I'm happy people stopped thinking what Miku can and can't be because of her canon info, and on the contrary realized she can be anything you and others want her to be.

Project Sekai was probably the first "in-your-face" example, as there are present multiple Miku who have different looks and personality.

Another great example of this is Deco*27, not just because Miku has a different look in any of his songs, but also because he created comics where all his Miku interact with each other as separated characters, made two versions of his Miku 3D model and his song Manequin literally showcase what Miku is, an empty vessel everyone can interpret as they want.

And how can we forget the Project VOLTAGE, the official crossover between Miku and Pokémon where all the 18 types got their own Miku who is completely unique and unrelated to the others.

Yes guys what I'm saying is that Miku is Barbie:

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Pointless to say this applies to any Vocaloid and other voice synthesizer character, hope this helps.

This is all for now, have a nice rest of your day/night and remember to stay hydrated! 🦓🦄💖💫✨

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mania-sama · 3 months

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rule #13 - waterfall

Rule #13 - Waterfall - Fish in a Birdcage

Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing - Fushiguro Megumi/Itadori Yuuji Tags - coma, japanese literature, character study, references to depression, survivor guilt, angst, post-culling games, gross overuse of italics Summary - Sukuna is successfully exorcised without killing his vessel, but Fushiguro Megumi is left in a comatose state. His soul has a decision to make. Word Count - 2,022 Cross-posted from Archive of Our Own Whumptober 2023 - Day 30: Coma See my full Whumptober 2023 Challenge on Tumblr or Ao3

"The boy has not a suggestion of a smile. No human can smile with his fists doubled like that,” Itadori reads, his index finger carefully underlining the words on the page. “It is a monkey. A grinning monkey-face. The smile is nothing more than a puckering of ugly wrinkles.”

Megumi listens intently and waits patiently for Itadori to arrive at the end of the paragraph, where he is sure to take a pause and regather his breath and thoughts. He’ll steal a glance at Megumi, then continue on.

Except this time Itadori does not continue when his finger falls off the page after reading: “ I have never seen a child with such an unaccountable expression.” The blue bookmark, tasseled with intertwining crimson and gold, slides into the crook between the pages, bumping into the inner spine. The light pink and coral book gently collapses to hold the bookmark in place, saving Yuuji’s spot for when he would like to return to it next.

It’s not like him to stop reading so abruptly unless there’s an emergency of some kind. Megumi thinks it's unlikely considering his phone hadn’t gone off, nor had a staff member or fellow sorcerer barged in to alert him of an impending situation.

Itadori rests the book on his lap and methodically runs his thumbs on the edge of the paperback cover. Without looking up at Megumi, he says, “I really hate this author.”

This doesn’t surprise Megumi. Dazai Osamu isn’t known for theatrical and fun yet thought-provoking books like many other authors are famous for. His works are depressive and nihilistic, showcasing the cruel underbelly of human nature. In the months Megumi has gotten to know Itadori, he has always been one to keep his nose facing the sun.

“I don’t want to read this,” Itadori continues. “Just that one paragraph, and I—” He breaks off, his thumb pausing at the base of a flower bud on the cover. “Did you expect to find yourself in these pages?”

Megumi startles, and Itadori swallows thickly.

Did you expect to find yourself in these pages?

It has something to do with the way Megumi never smiled right, always full of anger and resentment and apathy for the man who raised him and the man who didn’t. He rarely attempted to express happiness, and when he did, it looked unnatural and foreign.

“I… I don’t know,” he admits. His voice echoes as a snowflake falling in a powdered tundra.

Finally, Itadori tears his gaze from No Longer Human. He settles on Megumi, whose chest rises and falls in line with the beeping monitor tracking his heart. Megumi watches the exchange from the edge of the bed. Close to Yuuji, where if he shifted an inch or two over, he would contact Itadori’s knee with his own. Far enough from Yuuji, where they would never accidentally meet in the middle.

“Some of these books are hard to read. Not just because I don’t like them, but I have this feeling that… if you’re listening, and you’re hearing what some of these guys have to say, you won’t want to wake up.” His brown eyes are sincere and solemn, a combination that only he could earnestly achieve. Most people attempt to conceal a part of themselves; it’s a natural part of the human equation. Yet somehow, Itadori bypasses it entirely as if he was made using a different formula altogether.

Sometimes, it feels like Megumi will never fully understand Itadori. Their compositions are too fundamentally opposed.

On his left, his body breathes silently. Occasionally he can hear it as the state of his nostril and throat changes, like mucus build-up or tonsil irritation. Today he suffers from no ailment to cause sound. If he could somehow turn off the heart monitor, he could pretend that the only people in the room are Itadori Yuuji with the light pink and coral book and himself sitting on the edge of a normal bed in a normal room. Yuuji reads to him, tracking the words with his index finger and occasionally stealing warm glances at Megumi. He smiles despite the depressing contents of the book, like being in the same vicinity as Megumi is enough to bring him holistic happiness.

The heart monitor breaks his wistful daydream by beeping at a minimally quicker pace. Itadori turns his head to look at it, tracking the spiking red line like it’s worth anything more than the shitty, noisy machine that it is. His hand had jumped close to the red ‘CALL’ button on the side of the hospital bed. His finger hovers over it uselessly as the monitor slows down to his regular BPM.

Itadori uses the same hand to reach for Megumi, holding his pale, gauntly thin hand that resembles the rest of his atrophying body. Megumi can faintly feel the fingers intertwining with his own, and it simultaneously burns and freezes his skin in a frigid hellfire. When there’s nothing he can do but sit and experience it, he finds himself stuck between enjoying and cursing the sensation.

However, this is the better option for obtaining touch. The incorporeal form he possesses simply passes through living people. Contact dissembles his skin in a flurry of dust and scattered light while sending the other person deep, bone-chilling shivers.

“Wake up,” Itadori says. Their hands are lying together on the bedsheet, one sickly white from lack of a severe lack of natural Vitamin D and the other bone-white from how tightly he’s holding on. “Wake up so I don’t have to read this to you. I’ll read you something else if you like. Anything. But you have to be awake. I want to see you listening to me.”

Megumi wants to do that; listen to Itadori read any book of his choosing — not Dazai Osamu, certainly not his most depressing suicide note of a book — all day long. By itself, it would have been enough to wake him with the first sentence Itadori read of Norwegian Wood.

The book itself, as Itadori explained when he sat down to explain his plans to Megumi, was chosen because of its inspirational message. The exact opposite of Dazai, really; it’s clear that Itadori was hoping to avoid this point.

“I did research,” Itadori had said, opening to the first page of what will become a stack of read books piled on the other side of Megumi’s hospital bed. “By that, I mean I read a Wikipedia page. Its message is to keep on living, which I think is better than some of the other ones you have on your list. I really hope this works.”

Then it began: “I was thirty-seven then, strapped in my seat as the huge seven-four-seven plunged through dense cloud cover on approach to Hamburg airport.”

If it were so simple, it would have worked.

Megumi doesn’t want to wake up.

It started from the moment he killed his sister. He gave up fighting Sukuna, knowing it would be useless. His power to manipulate the Ten Shadows technique alongside his given techniques and domain overshadowed any restraint he applied to his body’s cursed energy. Nineteen fingers eventually accumulated in his body. Mahoraga gave way to the world-shattering cleave. Tsumiki and Gojo died because of his abilities.

“It wasn’t you who killed them,” Itadori had explained early on, “it was Sukuna.” But Itadori didn’t understand that his words were null from the amount of hypocrisy poisoning them.

If waking up meant he could sit in one place for the rest of his life with Itadori’s voice reading him his favorite books, he’d do it. But being awake means facing the world again. It means confronting the shikigami that took his sister’s and Gojo’s life, as well as the countless others that Sukuna killed along the way. He’d have to return to Jujutsu society and continue this thankless, worthless life of exorcism, or abandon it all and live with the guilt of negligence.

But dying — dying meant losing this. Itadori would be alone, and Megumi would never hear the end of No Longer Human or The Setting Sun. He would never get to The Boy of the Winds which Megumi assumes Itadori is saving for last. He won’t get updates on Itadori’s trials and tribulations with schoolwork and exorcism. Maki comes to visit; he likes to hear her talk and interact with his comatose body. If he dies, there will be no family members left for her to relate to.

That’s the problem, the dichotomy of his situation where he is seemingly stuck between life and whatever comes after. If he could figure out how to die or wake up, he wouldn’t be here, stuck in his hospital room and watching one of only two people alive he cares about come to his room day after day to read him a book from Megumi’s to-be-read list.

What Megumi does want, and it goes entirely unattested as embarrassing as it is, is to talk to Gojo.

He doesn’t know what Gojo would do in this situation, because he is certain that Gojo would never be in the same position. That man has always been one extreme to the next — to imagine his soul wandering the planes of the living is to ignore him altogether. If he were allowed just one conversation, he knows that Gojo would have him alive or dead before Itadori can finish one more paragraph of No Longer Human.

Then there is the quieter part of him that just wants to see him again. To see Gojo in whatever form he’s taken after death. And he recognizes that Gojo, the person he has modeled his every decision after when Tsumiki could no longer guide him, is the only person he will listen to. Anyone can tell him to live or to die, but Gojo is the only one Megumi knows he won’t fight.

It’s not that Gojo has made every correct decision in his life, but he is the closest thing Megumi has ever gotten to a father.

There is a saying: like father, like son. For the longest time, he had been unable to comprehend that phrase. He and Gojo aren’t blood-related. During his living days, Megumi didn’t have the time or motivation to reflect on the man who raised him. He understood that Gojo was the one around, his benefactor, and his teacher. His emotional capacity was unable to handle much more than that.

One year and three months and a stack of books have given Megumi plenty of time to reflect, and he is now intimately familiar with what it means when someone says like father, like son.

Not one person knows him better than Gojo Satoru.

“Okay,” Itadori relinquishes, letting go of Megumi’s hand. “Okay. Another day. I’ll let you have another day.”

Megumi doesn’t know how many more days either of them have left in them. It’s been a year and three months, and so far, Gojo Satoru has not come to visit to guide his soul as he once guided his life. It could be retribution for killing his only father-like figure, but he has this feeling that Gojo doesn’t blame him for it, no matter how much Megumi holds it against himself.

Like father, like son. Yet, the father raises the son to be better than himself.

Leaning back in his chair, Itadori reopens the light pink and coral book. In the fold of space between life and death, there are books and there is Itadori Yuuji. He cannot have these individually, nor can he hold them close. It’s a form of torment, a reminder that he is not meant to stay.

He listens from his seat at the edge of the bed as Itadori takes a deep, aching breath. He reads to the end of the prologue. When he’s finished, he looks at Megumi for a long time. His finger traces the inner spine between the thin pages.

Itadori continues with the first chapter: “Mine has been a life of such shame. I can’t even guess myself what it must be to live the life of a human being.”

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lossarquoo · 5 months

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hello tumblr i return from the mysterious crypt to show off something i have been working on

basically ever since shovel knight pocket dungeon got mod support and a mod showcase by yacht club themselves was announced i couldn’t hold myself back and have been working on a custom character nonstop and it eventually became a 4 character pack i wanted d to release

these below are the characters in question, the percentages mark estimates on how close i think they are to done in terms of spritework

i will further discuss the mod’s progress and some details below, if you dont wanna look at that i hope you look forward to this mod’s release

alright lets do this

Freddy Fazbear

this one is quite close to done, just have to work on the portraits in terms of art, so this one should be done soon enough art wise

The Knight/ The Vessel/Ghost/Whatever

this one is literally done idk what else to say all the sprites and portraits are done, only thing i can think of that i may add is a hub idle

Frisk and Madeline

bunching these two together because simply put, the only thing done for them artwise is the sprites in the progress picture, so i dont have anything to show off about them

Misc

This section is just for scrapped stuff/concept art i wanna show off so erm yea enjoy that

keep in mind this post only covers the sprites, implementation hasnt even started yet lol, but i hope yall are looking forward to this coming out as much as i am………… conclusion goes here

#shovel knight pocket dungeon #shovel knight #im very excited to finish this #idk if i feel like tagging all the characters tho it may just seem rude #shgdvsvgusugv

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vintage1981 · 8 months

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Space: 1999 Stars Barbara Bain & Nick Take Goes Board Documentary About Sci-Fi Show’s Legendary Spacecraft

Actress Barbara Bain, star of the British sci-fi series Space: 1999, is preparing to board an upcoming documentary about the Eagle, the famed spacecraft at the heart of the show that ran from 1975-1977.

Bain will appear in The Eagle Has Landed as will Nick Tate, her cast mate from Space: 1999. The documentary includes the participation of several other notable figures: Apollo XVI astronaut Charles Duke Jr., Academy Award-winning visual effects artist Bill George (Blade Runner, Star Trek), and Brian Johnson, the VFX artist on Space: 1999 whose work is said to have influenced Star Wars. The film is being directed and produced by Jeffrey Morris, who also hosts the documentary.

The Eagle Has Landed “explores the cross-generational impact of the iconic vessel” in the series that also starred Martin Landau. According to a press release, the film “showcases never-before-seen archival footage” and will be released in time for the 50th anniversary of Space: 1999’s debut, in 2025.

“Space: 1999 appeared on TV a few short years after the world watched Neil Armstrong take the first steps on the moon,” Morris noted in a statement. “The show’s unforgettable Eagle inspired a generation to envision a future in space and is still doing so decades later. The question we explore is ‘why?’ What is it about this imaginary craft that has captured and held imaginations for nearly 50 years?

Morris’s FutureDude Entertainment is producing the documentary in partnership with Zero Point Zero Production Inc. Anne Marie Gillen is a producer on the project, along with Morris. The film is written by Morris and Fredrick Haugen. Morris is represented by Espada Entertainment.

Space: 1999 ran for a total of 48 episodes, with Bain and Landau in all of them as, respectively, Dr. Helena Russell and Commander John Koenig (the actors were married to each other at the time; they had previously co-starred together in Mission: Impossible).

The show revolved around the denizens of Moonbase Alpha, scientific researchers living on the moon whose existence was threatened by a nuclear explosion, which rocketed the moon out of Earth’s orbit. Tate, an Australian-born actor, played pilot Alan Carter on 42 of the show’s 48 episodes. Originally, his character was to be killed off in the premiere episode, a casualty of the nuclear explosion, but producers Gerry Anderson and Sylvia Anderson liked his work and expanded his role.

“Hovering above the Moon in one of Alpha’s Eagle spacecraft, Alan Carter is an observer to this holocaust, watching helplessly as the Moon spins out into space,” according to a synopsis published by the Catacombs.Space1999.net website. “Sacrificing his only chance to return home, Carter decides to give chase to the runaway Moon, joining his friends on the endless intergalactic journey.”

Tate told the website, “I didn’t have to dig too deeply with this character. Alan Carter was all the things I was as a young man: friendly, happy-go-lucky, someone who loved adventure and accepted a challenge.”

Ian McShane, Joan Collins, and Leo McKern were among actors who appeared in single episodes of Space: 1999.

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#Space: 1999 #The Eagle Has Landed #Jeffrey Morris #Brian Johnson #Eagle Transporter #Gerry Anderson #Sylvia Anderson #ITC Entertainment #Star Wars #Barbara Bain #Martin Landau #Nick Tate #Catherine Schell #documentary #Breakaway Day #Youtube

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melontoyo · 1 year

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“You are Aasha - our final hope. Reawaken us and yield our powers. Become the new light of our lost cosmos.” My graduation project “Vessel of Gods - a visual concept for a character-collection game” is set to release on April 22nd!

It is a 5 minute animated trailer, accompanied by a booklet that showcases the concept, work progress, as well as the finished illustrations & designs. The booklet will be available as both digital and physical. Please look forward to it!

#artists on tumblr #vessel of gods #game concept #visual development #character design #melontoyo's art #reblogs are very appreciated : 3

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universestreasures · 5 days

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Inferiority Complexes

As far as my YGO DM muses go, Yugi & Mokuba are not only the youngest of my current line up, but are also the two who possess heavy feelings of inferiority regarding themselves and someone they care about a lot / look up to. With that comes shaky self-confidence and high self-doubt. However, how their feelings manifested, the intensity of those feelings, and how they are eventually overcome are different, and I want to go into that in this post (prepare yourself it's gonna be a lengthy one)

So, let's begin with Yugi, whose feelings are pretty blatant in the text (both anime and manga wise) and are a big part of his character growth / central arc. Yugi, unsurprising to anyone, feels a sense of inferiority to Atem, someone he looks up to and sees like an elder brother. So, when did this all start?

Well, pretty much as soon as Yugi figured out there was 'someone or something else' who shared his body and was the one doing the majority of the big feats in terms of the (Manga wise that's Death-T and Anime Wise that's in Duelist Kingdom). Atem always appears as a source of strength for Yugi when something is too tough for him to handle emotionally or physically. Even when he was unaware that Atem wasn't just an alternate personality of his but in fact his own person, he still was very much aware of the strong presence taking him over in times of adversity. And that fact...made him feel so weak and pathetic in comparison, that he Yugi Muto, wasn't strong enough to handle whatever he had to face.

This fact of him feeling like the 'lesser Yugi' enhances Yugi's own low amount of self-confidence that he had even before completing the puzzle. He's never seen himself as anything special, partially due to his own humble nature. Even after the main story is done, he still feels that way. That low self-confidence leads to self-doubt and needlessly beating himself up for being so 'weak' to the point there are moments he gives into what others, such as Marik, have said about him only being Atem's 'vessel' and nothing else. As if that is the only thing he is good for, that he is the 'weaker' Yugi.

Sometimes he even questions if he should just 'vanish', that everyone would be better off if he wasn't there or that people would prefer Atem being around over him. We see this in the anime when Anzu is dueling in the Noa Arc, Yugi thinking that she is calling out for Atem and not him.

But it is Atem, along with the rest of Yugi's friends, who help him through these complex feelings, Atem especially. He teaches Yugi about strength and courage, a strait Yugi has had all along inside of him that he was unable to truly see. For example, he stood up to Ushio to defend Jonouchi and Honda even before Atem appeared, to stand up to a bully and protect people he called 'friends'. That kind of strength, the strength of kindness, is Yugi's strength, and it is through seeing Atem and teaching that fact to him, along with the encouragement of his friends, that allows him to really see it for himself.

This is why Yugi takes steps, such as during Battle City, to prove his own strength to himself. He wants to prove he isn't as weak as he thinks he is, to use what he's learned from his partner and stand on his own because he knows one day he will have to. This is done mainly through his battles with Otogi in the manga, possessed Jonouchi in both versions, and Yami Bakura in the Dark RPG. They were battles Yugi had to primarily or entirely fight on his own. And those battles showcased Yugi's own unique strength that wasn't just 'an inferior version of Atem's' or even a 'copy', which is shown well through Yugi's own unique deck he used against Yami Bakura.

This all cumulates in the ceremonial duel, where Yugi proves his strength and truly is able to overcome his insecurities to fulfill his last mission as Atem's vessel / partner. And he takes as much pride in that victory as he does sadness, for it was the last step in his journey. After that fight, he no longer sees himself as inferior to Atem, but rather his equal. For he knows that duel was evenly matched, and if he didn't predict Atem's final plan to win, he would have lost.

Lastly, he gets to prove to everyone who did believe those negative thoughts he had about himself to be true in DSOD, such as with Kaiba. Kaiba at the end acknowledges him as a true duelist, and that meant the world to Yugi. It really helped cement that new found self-confidence of his, especially because Kaiba has always been someone Yugi's respected and was Atem's rival.

Overall, Yugi's inferiority complex is a key part of his character arc. It is something he overcame with time and the support of his loved ones, and I for one as a Yugi mun cannot be more proud of my boy. I'm sure Atem is proud of him too, as we can no doubt see by the end of their duel and I suspect he felt when seeing Yugi again in DSOD.

As for everyone's favorite little bro, Mokuba feels a sense of inferiority to Seto, which isn't probably that surprising considering how he views his big brother and just what his brother has accomplished. Unlike Yugi who developed his feelings in the midst of the story, Mokuba's feelings have been pretty much a part of him since he could remember. Though, they are just as deep-rooted and potent as Yugi's, if not more so.

Mokuba's feelings began when he first developed his admiration for his brother. Seto was a genius, a capable young boy most would consider a prodigy. From Mokuba's POV, everything his brother was able to do was impressive, be it from grades, to ideas, to his talent for gaming. This feeling was probably shared by their parents and many other adults, to the point I am 100% certain Seto was a prime adoption candidate who probably refused if they did not want to take Mokuba too (which I imagine most if not all did not). And while he felt no feelings of jealousy to his brother for all that praise or attention he got (jealousy is a feeling Mokuba's never felt towards Seto ever), he did sorta start to see himself as...lesser in comparison.

Though, this is Mokuba 100% being unfair to himself. You must keep in mind Mokuba and Seto are 5 years apart in age, and Mokuba was only 5 and Seto was 10 when they were dropped off at the orphanage. That's a huge gap in terms of development, and Mokuba hasn't gotten as much life experience as his brother or time to learn and hone any really major skills (because I do think Mokuba is a fast learner when he puts his mind to something and is very motivated, similar to his brother).

But this reality goes over Mokuba's young mind (and it still does, even after knowing the logic). After all, if his brother can do all those things, surely he can too, right? So it must be an issue with HIM. It's part of why, more often than not, Mokuba sees himself as a burden to his brother, that his own lack of 'competence' or 'specialness' holds him back. He blames himself for them not being adopted by potential nice families who wanted Seto and not Mokuba, because if he was just 'better' than they surely would want both (even though that's not at all how that works, but again, little kid logic).

This is why, even at a young age, Mokuba tries to prove himself and can often be reckless. We see this in Death-T primarily in canon with him wanting to challenge Yugi (which was also motivated by getting his brother's approval), but I imagine he did this with just about anything he tried to do. He wanted to sorta 'catch up' to his brother, even though there was never a 'race' between the two of them to begin with.

These feelings of inferiority intensify after they are both adopted by Gozaboru. I imagine Gozaboaru, much like other parents, only really was after Seto. He had no interest at all in Mokuba. Why would he when Seto was the one to be the heir?

I imagine Mokuba didn't get the same harsh treatment his brother did from Gozaboru, because it was almost like he wasn't 'there' to begin with. Mokuba was isolated from his brother I imagine through a lot of their childhood, so he wouldn't be a 'distraction'. Sure he got educated too (I imagine he was just sent to regular school much like we see him in the manga going to), but it was not anything special. It was more like 'good enough' as opposed to anything extraordinary. And he was no doubt compared to his brother constantly, whether it was by staff or by people at school. That only made what he was feeling worse and led to both beating himself up needlessly (like Yugi does) and contributing to his nightmares at times.

On top of all of that, as Seto and him (manga wise anyway) got further and further apart, he sorta got the vibe from his brother that Mokuba was no longer 'worth his time'. He wasn't anything attention-grabbing anymore, hence leading to Mokuba's early manga actions (because I 100% think everything from the first Capsule Monsters game to his match with Yugi in Death-T was all to get Seto's attention and not his true nature. Why else would he just suddenly change personality traits upon Seto's loss, when he didn't get mind crushed?).

Even after repairing his relationship with his brother post Manga Duelist Kingdom, his feelings of inferiority were not addressed (he hasn't brought them up to Seto directly before cause he doesn't like to burden his brother and it's hard to talk about for him) and only grew as his brother accomplished more and more. He almost like saw himself at the bottom of the hill with his brother at the top, with the distance being too great between them. That distance was indeed one of his motivators for him to start working harder, to start taking a more active role in Kaiba Corp, and to start honing his gaming skills without the use of cheating.

So, with all that said, how does Mokuba overcome these feelings? Well, aside from working hard as I mentioned, I imagine it will be a slow process that is helped by both his friend squad and his brother. Mokuba's Buddyfight friend group (AKA my Gao, Tasuku, Suzuha, and Akatsuki) are the first real friends (outside of Yugi's gang) he's made that see him as NOT Seto Kaiba's brother but rather his own individual. They constantly lift him up, support his efforts, and are there for him. They've done a lot for him personally to feel like he's worthwhile and that he's not as 'weak' as he thinks.

As for Seto, any kind of praise or showcase of being 'proud' of him helps. This can be done in many forms, including being given important tasks at Kaiba Corporation, such as running things in his absence post-DSOD until he returns. I do imagine if Mokuba ever told his brother about his feelings, that Seto would tell him something along the lines of that he doesnt' need to feel that way or that he should compare himself. Being seen in such a way by his brother would help greatly, along with I imagine if Mokuba is able to beat him in any sort of game and his brother expresses that he did 'good'.

In conclusion, I do not think it will be till Mokuba is an adult that those feelings he has will completely go away (I imagine they pop up every now and again too, like any deep-rooted feeling). It is only after having stood on his own two feet, having proved himself, having gotten that approval from those around him, and having probably bested his brother in a game that his view shifts from being 'lesser' to that of an equal, a true Kaiba in his own right (something he didn't have to 'earn' btw but he thought he had to). And I hope to get to explore that journey of growth through all my threads!

#💎 Game Treasure (Yugi Muto)#💎 Vice Treasure (Mokuba Kaiba)#💎 Game's Glimmers And Glitz (Yugi Headcanons)#💎 Vice's Glimmers And Glitz (Mokuba Headcanons)#tw long post #(this is such a big aspect of my portrays of these two i thought id finally write it all out #(I hope everything made sense and im always down to answer any questions too!

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