#even if its through my crack headcanons/theories
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The Suchong rant/theory/speculation
So, I know that a vast majority of the Bioshock fandom fucking hates BAS (Especially on here) for very good reason. But, I will say that, when it isn’t being racist, destroying canon, and insulting all the characters- it does bring a few interesting things to the table. This is especially true for Suchong’s character, his motivations, personality, and his relationship to Jack and Tenenbaum.
Ever since I read the note Tenenbaum left Suchong, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’ve gone down a bit of a wiki rabbit hole, investigating Suchong and Tenebaum’s characters to answer all the questions that came up. I mean, if Suchong was really as much of a soulless bastard as people like to portray him, why would Tenenbaum try to appeal to his emotions? It makes no sense to me that Tenenbaum would try to appeal to the sensibilities of a man who has given no indication of compassion or remorse.
So, I posit a theory: Suchong and Tenenbaum both began to feel remorse for their actions at roughly the same time, leading to Tenenbaum writing the note to save someone she was friends with and could possibly aid her.
Now, I know this may sound ridiculous but, after applying a little bit of logic, Suchong showing some remorse but going on with his work makes more sense than Tenenbaum appealing to someone she knows doesn’t care about the kids and that she doesn’t care about either. And before I get into my evidence, I am using what is present in the games only as I have not read the novels, nor do I care to.
So, why would Tenenbaum even begin to care about Suchong? Well, one could argue that she just wanted help with the little sisters, but there are plenty of good people in rapture so her bothering with Suchong in particular feels important. Of course, he did do the mental programming on them, but Tenenbaum herself states that the children can grow out of it and forget, so Suchong would really only speed up the de-conditioning process.
Instead, I want to bring forward the idea that Suchong and Tenenbaum were good colleagues, and maybe even friends. Listening to Gilbert Alexander’s audio diary “Improving on Suchong’s work”, it’s easy to hear the sadness in Alexander’s voice, which can imply a lot of things, most prominently that there was some level of camaraderie between them. Other cut audio diaries from Alexander similarly imply a strong amount of sadness about Suchong’s death, furthering this point. Okay, Suchong probably had friends- so what? Well, it means he could’ve easily have had a positive relationship with Tenenbaum! Since we don’t know the date of Suchong’s audio diaries “Mozart of genetics” and “Plasmids are the paint”, we can’t say for sure how long ago those thoughts about Tenebaum were, though both are implied to be early in their relationship. Even while looking down on Tenenbaum, Suchong still very much admired her skill as a scientist, which at least to me, indicates a clear avenue for solidarity and mutual respect between them.
As there are no audio diaries mentioning Suchong and no radio messages giving her clear opinions on him it’s a little tough to gauge her perspective on her colleague. However, Tenenbaum being outright friends with Suchong, I feel, makes much more sense when you take her note into consideration. Tenenbaum’s note being an not only appeal towards someone who can make saving the little sisters easier, but an appeal to a friend, a man she respected, who she raised multiple children with, makes the effort of writing it and putting it in his secret lab make so much more sense! It makes the appeal at all make more sense as well. Tenenbaum is a very hopeful woman, yes, but if she was talking to a friend, someone she knew even somewhat intimately, over a man she barely knows or actively dislikes, then her confidence in convincing him to her side skyrocket.
Now, speaking of kids, let's talk about Jack and the little sisters. I don’t think people really acknowledge that Suchong had put just as much, if not more, work into raising Jack as Tenebaum. I personally think that though Frank was present, he did leave most of the work of raising and training Jack to those two. The little sisters, on the other hand, he had no care for other than funding. Suchong, however, is directly addressed by the girls as “papa’ multiple times, indicating that he is their father figure like Tenenbaum is their mother figure.
Alongside this- there doesn’t seem to be much outright hostility between him and the girls. Of course, in Bioshock 1, there is the ghost scene of the little sister crying about not wanting to be ‘put on the table’ and the infamous ‘protection bond’ audio diary where he slaps a child, but nuance can put those instances in a new light. First, the ghost scene has no context other than the words spoken by the girl, so, this could easily be a case of Suchong turning an orphan into a little sister- still bad, but expected of both him and Tenenbaum. The audio diary on the other hand, as well as the real time version in BaS, does require a deeper analysis.
So, prior to the event, we see Leta and Masha rescue and befriend a big daddy, creating the protector bond, the girls disappear and later re-appear, as we come across Suchong venting to his audio diary, trying to figure out his massive problem. The girls enter and enthusiastically try to get his attention. Now, let’s pause here and ask a few questions. First; why would kids he’s very cruel to regard him with such enthusiasm and second why are they trying to get his attention? My conclusion to answer these questions is as follows; Suchong was NOT as cruel as implied and he communicated his problem with the protection bond to the girls.
If Suchong was super abusive, why would the kids actively seek his attention? Would they not fear angering him if they bother him, especially at work? The enthusiasm the girls have and willingness to approach him (As well as Suchong allowing them to roam around freely) indicates a more relaxed relationship. Despite what he says about children sometimes, calling the girls brats, and generally regarding children as stupid and unruly, there is room to plausibly infer that he didn’t hate them 24/7. Even more so, as evidenced by both of the coded notes, the problem with the protection bond is on the Big Daddies, not the little sisters, their conditioning is well in effect at this time. With the added detail of the girls jumping to find him after the bond is made, then it stands to reason that they understood the problem and were going to tell their papa the good news. I figure that they either sensed a change in his behavior or he outright told them the problem and to find him if there was a change, leaning toward the latter explanation.
Okay, now let's go back to Suchong's death scene. So the girls bug him a bit, don’t take the hint to leave him alone, and he loses his temper and slaps Leta. The girls not taking the hint to fuck off tells me that him telling them to scram is pretty rare. What seems just as rare is slapping one of the girls- Masha rushes to Leta’s side and both seem pretty shocked at the turn. Suchong gets killed by the big daddy and the girls rush to said big Daddy’s arms once he becomes docile again- which one may say implies that they didn’t like Suchong or were happy to see him die. However, I would argue this is mostly the mental conditioning. The girls easily changed their minds about the injured big daddy, going from fear to willingly helping him in an instant. This happens again during the death sequence- what normal child would watch something that violent happen, even to someone they hate, and jump into the perpetrator’s arms? The answer is in the strong mental conditioning- so powerful it overrides any form of logic.
With that out of the way, let’s look at his relationship with Jack. Again, if he really hated the kids, why would he let Jack and the sisters call him papa? Logically, he’d want to distance himself from any kind of parental role- but he didn’t. With Jack especially, he lingered in the old baby room- likely often enough that Tenenbaum knew he’d see her note there. Hell, his damn sandwich is still fresh! I also can’t find any instances of him insulting Jack. He never calls Jack by name, but neither does Fontaine or Tenenbaum, which makes me believe he was only given a proper name after being sent topside. There is also the matter of the puppy Jack had- but we aren’t given enough context on how Jack obtained her to know why she was killed, she could have very well been killed on Fontaine’s orders. Like with the little sisters, I don’t think Suchong was outright cruel to Jack- at least not most of the time. If anything, he gives Jack more respect than the little sisters and potentially prefers him to the girls.
Now, how about Suchong’s personality? I think his personality, other than ‘cruel evil doctor’, and ‘coward’ gets overlooked by the fandom. I’d argue that Suchong isn’t a coward per se, but rather that he won’t pick a fight that he doesn’t think he’s got a chance at. He’ll really only fight people he sees as equals or underlings- caving only to superiors. This is why he made himself useful to the Japanese rather than fight them and it’s why he easily transitioned to working under Ryan after Fontaine ‘died’. He’s smart, he knows when he’s got a chance and when to pick a fight- though he clearly isn’t afraid of bitching about his circumstances or spitting sass. It’s clear that he is greedy for money like a lot of rapture characters, outright stating that it was good that he was the only one who knew about the little sisters after Fontaine and Tenenbaum went down, as well as scientific progress.
I would even go as far as to say that he may have regretted his actions after Jack left or had some weakening towards Jack specifically. I have two reasons for this, first being Tenebaum’s note and the ‘send to Ryan’ note. The verbiage of Tenebaum’s note strikes me as odd- specifically the line ‘It is in your power to be a different man’- that line screams to me that he has shown some sort of remorse for his actions prior to Tenenbaum leaving. The line ‘They are children… and yes, they will forget’ also strikes me as Suchong not wanting to Kill the sisters and having some kindness towards them. Now the big one to me is ‘What can Ryan take from us that we have not already sacrificed…?’ That tells me Suchong is afraid or hesitant to change because of Ryan. There’s also the note Suchong left for himself. He clearly planned to send the evidence of Jack to Ryan but something made him chicken out. What event exactly is unclear, perhaps Fontaine's ‘death’ or Tenenbaum's disappearance or the overtaking of his job. Whatever it was, something made him feel brave enough to start a whistleblower plan and something else made him stop.
So, with all the evidence (A.k.a. me pulling at threads) together, let’s set up a very rough timeline for Suchong. He enters Rapture, meets Tenenbaum, and begins working with her on plasmid tech. Initially the two don’t get along and he retains a low opinion of her, but slowly they begin to warm up to one another and some level of respect for each other if not outright friendship blooms between them.
Fontaine then entrusts them with the Little Sisters program, putting them in charge of children for higher ADAM production. With the addition of children, things get complicated. The more immoral side of their work begins to be less excusable as before the little sisters, they really only experimented on adults. The kids are hard to care for but a necessary evil to continue producing Adam to meet customer demand. They cannot sedate the girls so Suchong attempts to alleviate some of the struggle of working with them, as well as encourage his ‘Adam recycling’ by implementing mental conditioning in the girls. This works to an extent, but they nevertheless remain children, in both mental capacity and physical strength.
Fontaine, seeing this mental conditioning, then entrusts the WYK program to Tenenbaum and Suchong. The girls at the orphanage already referred to Suchong and Tenenbaum as ‘papa’ and ‘mama’ respectively, but now they have even more responsibility and intimacy in raising this child. In an attempt to stave off the growing softness for the child they are now raising as a killing machine, Tenenbaum and Suchong don’t name him, only calling him ‘baby’. They recognize the growing instinct they have for the children both in themselves and each other, but do not discuss it, likely because of Fontaine’s eye over them.
Suchong breaks first, giving baby Jack a level of affection that he does not show the girls. Tenebaum sees this but does not say anything, intending to protect her colleague. Fontaine begins to notice Tenenbaum going soft, however, and sets Suchong up to keep lot 192 a secret from her. Project WYK wraps up and they send the baby to the surface, Suchong and Tenenbaum shoving their feelings back down and returning to work on the sisters. Still, Suchong cannot get the baby out of his head, often returning to the child’s secret room to the point of Tenenbaum noticing. Nonetheless things are normal.
Tenenbaum has a change of heart and her actions become far gentler with the girls, which gives Suchong the strength to re-asses and begin a whistleblower plan. That is until Tenenbaum disappears, sapping all his confidence away as Fontaine becomes increasingly erratic. The civil war breaks out and Fontaine vanishes. Suchong is the only person aware of the sisters now, without an employer and needing somewhere to go until Ryan forcefully takes his job over.
At the same time things get bad in Rapture, the Little sisters need protection from being harvested. Suchong can build the big daddies to protect the girls but cannot get them to imprint. The girls are too terrified, despite their mental conditioning, to interact with the big daddies. He explains this problem to the girls, hoping some level of self-reporting may give him a leg up. Mind still stuck on baby jack, he returns to the secret room and finds a note from Tenenbaum, encouraging him to change his ways. Suchong, perhaps feeling betrayed by her simply leaving, rejects the letter and leaves to figure out the big daddy problem angry, leading him to lose his temper at the girls when he normally wouldn’t. Or, perhaps he is stricken with fear, knowing Fontaine is still alive and watching his back. Either way, he dies at the hands of his own creations, at least knowing the girls will be protected now by the big daddies.
So yeah. TL;DR: Suchong, though not the best person, wasn’t entirely evil either and may very well have had the same revelation as Tenenbaum but no chance to act on it/may have backed out because of Fontaine. The way the girls and Tenenbaum act display a certain level of complexity to his character, a hidden softer side where he may have acted much better than his audio diaries initially let on.
One last thing: I want to point out that applying any sort of soulless/heartless characterization to an Asian character like Suchong (The only Asian character in Bioshock 1 and one of four Asians in the entire series) comes with some very nasty racist baggage. Now, it’s no surprise to any of us that Ken Levine is a racist bastard, so his writing characters of color as racist stereotypes is expected. However, I’m disappointed to see no one has directly addressed the fact that the portrayal of Suchong as ‘cold and heartless’ is in and of itself a very old racist stereotype. Everyone seems to only shit on BaS and Infinite’s racism (For good reason) but no one seems to point out the inherent racism in the first Bioshock game. So, my first instinct is to break that stereotype, even if it goes against canon. Because, in the end, when it comes to keeping the integrity of a racist canon versus breaking it and fighting stereotypes in fiction as well as what resides in the racial consciousness of the society I live in, breaking canon will always be the better option. A canon that is shitty should be improved upon by fans, not upheld.
#yi suchong#tbh he deserves a more nuanced characterization#even if its through my crack headcanons/theories#idk i just like the idea of him having the capabiloty to be kind like Tenenbaum#like i think them starting down the same route and going through the same journey#of slowly being affected by their descisions#but going down different paths in the end#would've made a much more interesting character dynamic and foil setup#bioshock#idk but thats my opinion#please dont take this too seriously tho#i know its flawed but im having fun okay?
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lessons in touch
pairing: azriel x f!reader
summary: azriel’s curiosity and penchant for spying reveals exactly why you’ve been more…enthusiastic in bed lately
word count: 5.8k :0
warnings: smut (not super detailed)!! 18+ mdni pls, az being nosy
a/n: this is one of my faves so far :’) i have this persistent silly headcanon that az is the biggest busybody of them all and that’s why he’s so good at his job
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banners by @/cafekitsune <3
Sex between you and Azriel was far from boring. It was a well known secret that Azriel had a predilection towards kink and experimentation, so your adventures with him between the sheets never left either of you dissatisfied. Far from it, actually.
Being with him was always pleasurable, wonderful, and unrivaled by any you’d had before him. During girls night, you had always attested to his prowess, said that his skills of observation extended past the battlefield and very much into the bedroom. And his wingspan…you would neither confirm nor deny whether the theory around Illyrian males and their wingspan was true, much to their chagrin, but the mischievous smirk that curled your lips was all they needed to confirm their suspicions.
Azriel was a skilled lover; he knew your ins and outs, understood almost innately how to coax pleasure from you with a simple, well placed brush of his fingers. More often than not, Azriel had you in a puddle on the floor before he could even take his pants off. Which, ordinarily, was a more than welcome skill — you loved how well he knew you, adored how he loved you so much that his brain was like a file cabinet of information about things you liked.
But you’d grown frustrated lately, more and more desiring to reduce Azriel to the same pleasure filled putty that he so often did with you. His composure was infuriatingly ironclad; you knew he felt the same primal, overwhelming desire that you did — such was the nature of the mating bond — but he was much better at masking it.
In short, you wanted to know what made him tick, what made him beg and whimper and plead with you to touch him. You’d been mated for a year now, and while his desire for you never waned, you had yet to find the one thing that made him sink to his knees and beg the way he so easily coaxed you to do for him.
It was no secret that your mate had a bold competitive streak. But your own stubbornness rivaled his own, leading to long, long card game nights and sparring matches — much to everyone else’s entertainment.
Though you knew you had no reason to feel such competitiveness when matters of the bedroom were concerned, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance that Azriel had so easily figured out how to make you squirm in a multitude of ways — with all your cards on the table — while you were still somewhat in the dark about his most favored bedroom inclinations. Azriel kept the secrets of his hand close to his chest.
So you vowed to yourself that you’d figure it out, test his composure to see how exactly to make that beautiful, calm countenance crack. It was like a game, but one you were more than willing to play and even more determined to win.
Ever the observer however, Azriel caught on to the changes in your excitement beneath the sheets, amusement and adoration coursing through his veins as he reveled in your sudden vigor, never shying away from a challenge.
You had been more experimental in your bedroom endeavors as of late, asking him to bend you this way and that, introducing things that he never thought you’d be interested in — not that he was complaining in the slightest. Though your differences were strikingly obvious, Azriel would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about where your sudden interest in various sexual niches had sprung from.
Initially, it was all fun and games; if you wanted to explore then so be it — he’d match you stroke for stroke every time. But eventually, his nosiness had wedged its way deep into each crevice of his mind until he was all-consumed, curiosity devolving into a burgeoning anxiety.
Was something wrong?
Azriel was positive that if you were bored you would tell him. Had you heard something from one of the others that spurred you to want to explore more? Had you felt as though you had to introduce novelty every time to please him?
You had to have known that was far from the truth; no matter your state, Azriel had always made it clear to you that you were the most exquisite creature he’d ever had the privilege of knowing, let alone laying with. He didn’t think there was anything wrong…at least not for him. Maybe you felt like something was missing.
“Penny for your thoughts, brother?”
Rhys’s voice snapped him out of his anxious musings. Azriel hadn’t realized that he was pacing so furiously he could have worn a hole through the floor. Both Rhysand and Cassian had been watching with amusement glinting in their eyes. After all, it was a rare sight to see their ordinarily calm and stoic shadowsinger so worked up.
The same poker face Azriel had worn to win countless games of cards against his brothers masked his features now, but the twitch in his brow and the near missable ruffling of his wings were tells that Cassian and Rhysand were well acquainted with.
The shadowsinger had never perfected his stone faced indifference when he was thinking of you.
Cassian ventured a guess, “Have you upset Y/N?”
Cassian had meant to tease, but the way Azriel stayed silent had his eyebrow arching in question. Azriel ignored the curious glance from his brother as his mind ran in circles once more.
Had he upset you? Was your sudden experimentation in bed some roundabout way of telling him that he had done something to hurt you? No, no…that didn’t make sense, he was being illogical.
Or…Had he somehow missed picking up on something that you liked?
Your sudden interest in sexual exploration was far from a problem, but he got the niggling sense that you were up to something, playing a game that he wasn’t privy to. And he wanted in.
Azriel was private by nature, never revealing more of his relationship with you than absolutely necessary to his brothers, not wanting to overshare in fear that he’d fall victim to their incessant teasing. But this…maybe it would be useful to get their opinions about your sudden change in interests? Cassian and Rhys were both mated males afterall, and maybe there was something Azriel was missing. He would never admit it to anyone but himself, but he fell victim to his crippling neuroticism more times than he’d like to. Curiosity and anxiety were two sides of the same coin.
So he indulged and told his brothers of your sudden vigor in bed, enthusiasm to try something new every single time. You’d been insatiable as of late and he didn’t know why; nothing had changed that he knew of and it was concerning him, he couldn’t stand not knowing.
“So,” Rhys started tentatively, narrowing his eyes in confusion, not quite grasping the issue that Azriel was so hesitant to endorse. “Y/N is trying new things in bed.”
And elsewhere, Azriel thought with a ghost of a smile on his lips. He’d leave that part out, though; Rhys probably wouldn’t appreciate knowing the details about the going-ons in the dining room of the townhouse. And the gardens. And the hallways.
“And you’re complaining?” Cassian asked, incredulous, similarly at a loss for his brother’s concern.
“I’m not complaining, Cass,” Azriel groaned and slumped unceremoniously into a chair (much like an irritated school child who’d been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to), immediately regretting his poorly thought out decision to confide in his brothers. “I’m just confused. I don’t know what she wants.”
“Have you considered asking her?” Rhys inquired, infuriatingly teasing smile curving his lips.
Azriel deadpanned and clicked his tongue, not believing that Rhys would assume he was so inept at communicating with his lover, “Of course I’ve asked. She just says nothing’s changed. I believe her, but it’s still bothering me and I don’t know why.”
Both Cassian and Rhys resisted the urge to laugh, mentally conversing about how Azriel’s affections for you often reduced him to an adolescent-like lovesickness, begging and willing to please. Az had been this way since they were children; fiercely competitive and subsequently pouty if he didn’t have the upper hand, always wanting to know and learn everything he could.
This side of the shadowsinger was one that did not make an appearance often, reserving itself until he was around the few he trusted wholeheartedly.
The past couple of centuries saw even less of this endearingly childish and competitive Azriel – even around his closest friends – as Night Court duties and his identity as Spymaster overshadowed most opportunities to be vulnerable in his relationships.
But when you came around, light began to spark beneath the shadowy depths of Azriel’s countenance as you slowly coaxed him to trust and love as fiercely as everyone knew he was capable of, with the reckless abandon that his childhood self so easily embodied.
“Maybe check her nightstand,” Cassian teased with a wink, only half joking, as a quiet happiness bubbled within him at the small glimpses of Azriel’s vulnerability. “Some of Nesta’s best kept secrets are hidden there.”
Before Azriel could furrow his brow and chastise his brother for snooping through his mate’s belongings, a realization hit him.
Nesta.
You had been spending an awfully large amount of time with the eldest Archeron sister in the library lately, choosing to hole up there in lieu of your other hobbies when you weren’t training or engaging in your various other Night Court duties.
But Nesta would be a dead end. There was no way he could approach her without tipping you off to his secret sleuthing. Though he and Nesta were friends, her loyalties laid with you; there was an unexplainable female camaraderie between you – a chosen sisterhood, if you will – and if he asked if she knew anything about what was going on, she’d go running to you, mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
The conversation with his brothers was about as helpful as he initially thought it would be, and he let himself succumb to their jokes about how wrapped around your finger he was. Azriel had endured it graciously, knowing better than anyone that they were right, that he was indeed wrapped so tightly around your little finger that he was unsure of where he ended and you began. That he would gratefully stay in the palm of your hand for as long as you would allow.
But that night, after you had told him not to wait up for you because you’d be having drinks with Feyre and Mor, Cassian’s voice reverberated insistently in his mind.
Check her nightstand…best kept secrets…
Azriel resisted the urge to snoop for all of ten minutes before his inherent nosiness clouded his judgment and got the better of him; afterall, his love for secrets is what made him such an effective spymaster. Before he knew it, he was rolling onto your side of the bed, inquisitive hands pulling open your bedside drawer.
Hidden among the small stack of books he had given you was a thick novel with a cover he recognized, but gave no second thought.
It was a book you said Nesta had lent you. When he asked if you liked it you said it was “only okay” and that you’d let him know if he should read it when you were finished. Despite your lukewarm review, however, it had never left your side, and he had found you on more than one occasion cozied up with it in your hands, cheeks dusted with a heat he knew all too well.
Azriel was well aware of the content of the books Nesta favored, often lending a reluctant ear to a whiny Cassian whenever she paid more attention to her books than him.
But there was no way your sudden excitement for novelty in the bedroom could be inspired by Nesta’s smutty recommendations…right? He leafed through, assessing hazel eyes quickly skimming the paragraphs, catching glimpses of the prose that had you so enraptured.
Azriel felt the back of his neck heat.
It was smut, as he assumed. But this was truly…filth. Pure, unadulterated, filthy smut.
Azriel was a lover of all books, never having been one to categorize or judge them by popular opinion. And, to be completely fair, he had read a decent amount of books filled with sex and romance.
But…he was sure that the acts detailed in this one would make even the Court of Nightmares’s debauchery look saintly. Even Azriel, who had been correctly assumed to be the kinkiest of the Inner Circle, felt tame in comparison to the words flickering across the pages of your book. How did you read this with such impassivity on your face?
Azriel snapped the book shut with such force the pages blew a cool, gentle breeze onto his heating face. He tried – and failed – to not picture you in the position the main character in your book was described in, unintentionally sending a soft hum of his burgeoning arousal down your bond. He was beginning to understand your desire to replicate the more salacious scenes detailed in your novels.
Having fun without me, Az? Came your teasing inquiry in his mind, as he meticulously replaced all of your belongings into your nightstand.
Don’t be nosy, he quipped back, extremely aware of the irony of his statement. And then after a beat he added, answering your question with a sincerity that never failed to grip your heart, Never without you, love.
You left him waiting for a response a little bit longer than you normally would as you attempted to control the thundering beat of your heart in your chest. You were convinced that no amount of time could ever diminish the effects that Azriel’s blatant display of love had on your composure. As much as he was wrapped around your little finger, you were just as tightly wrapped around his.
I take back what I said earlier, wait up for me.
Azriel smirked to himself, feeling a flare of triumph, It’s a date, then. Maybe I’ll find something interesting to read in the meantime.
If you caught on to his sly insinuation, you did not let on, just continued bantering with him for a few moments before returning your full attention to your friends, who were no doubt attempting to extract morsels of information from your obviously lascivious exchange with your lover.
But that night – even after Azriel had promptly fucked you into a blissful oblivion – had yielded no more information about your recent proclivity for finding a new kink, so Azriel did what he did best and spied.
He kept a watchful eye on the books you read, and tracked the times you asked him to try something new. He spent more time in the library than necessary under the guise that Rhys had put him up to some research.
Which was only half of a lie. He was in there to do reconnaissance, yes, just not for Rhys.
Azriel scanned the bookshelves for anything that seemed like it had been recently replaced, pages still clinging to the sweet scent of your skin. A title he recognized caught his eye and he slotted it out of place, flipping through the pages to confirm his suspicions.
This book was shorter than the others he’d seen you carry around, but certainly no less obscene. A smirk pulled at Azriel’s lips as he read a dog eared chapter that you had clearly marked for inspiration, recollections of your most recent tryst in his office flooding his awareness.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
You had sauntered into his small, private study at the House of Wind, short dress skimming the curves of your thighs as you bent to greet him with a kiss to his cheek. He’d been distracted at the time — surveying maps and cross referencing with ancient textbooks — and barely tore his attention away from his work long enough to squeeze your hand in greeting.
But you didn’t seem to mind, opting to make yourself comfortable and purveying the books neatly organized on his shelves. When you’d found a book you thought would be interesting enough — though probably not quite as interesting as the one you’d just finished, per Nesta’s recommendation — you settled into the armchair across Azriel’s desk, shoulders against one armrest as your legs draped over the other.
Azriel looked up at you then, soft smile curving his lips. He loved when you kept him company while he worked; somehow, whenever you were around, work never seemed nearly as daunting or overwhelming.
You met his gaze with your own grin, silently communicating your support of him in the way that only mates could, tugging gently on the bond before winking at him and resettling your attention back to the book in your lap.
The both of you worked in that wonderfully comfortable silence for a while before Azriel caught you fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. The sun had begun its routine descent below the horizon, cool breeze stirring the sheer curtains framing his windows. Though summer had plagued the days with heat and humidity, the nights were still cool as the last dregs of spring eked away.
He looked up, intending on asking if you needed anything — a blanket, maybe — but the words died swiftly in his throat when he eyed a flash of bare skin as you swung your legs to stand, showcasing just enough for him to clue in to the fact that you were indeed not wearing underwear. Or anything else under your dress, if the peak of your nipples beneath the silk was anything to go by.
Selfishly, for a brief moment, Azriel decided that maybe keeping the windows open wouldn’t be so bad.
He pried his eyes away from your form making its way back to his bookcase, and instead attempted to tamp down the raging lust stirring in his belly so he could focus. But the mental picture of what he knew lay beneath the barely there fabric of your dress coupled with your scent made the lines on the map he was studying blur into nonsense.
Though intelligent and compassionate at heart, Azriel often found himself a slave to his baser male instincts when it came to you. There was little – if anything – you could do to quell the raging need to touch you, kiss you, be near you at all hours of the day; his desire for you was a constant hum belying his daily routine. He had not one iota of self control when you were involved, much to his simultaneous thrill and chagrin.
Inwardly, he cursed himself as he stole another glance at you as you stretched onto your toes to reach a book on the top shelf.
Beauty incarnate, truly, he thought. Azriel’s eyes tracked each slope and valley of the lines of your body, taking his time to commit each curve to memory, the way he should have been doing with the maps sitting now uselessly on his desk.
You looked at him over your shoulder, small pout on your lips, “Az, can you help me? I can’t reach.”
Azriel’s heart leapt. It’s like you were doing it on purpose, and in hindsight you definitely were. But despite the gnawing adoration encouraging him to fall to his knees and worship at your feet, he stood with the cool grace of someone unperturbed by their mate’s subtle seduction.
Azriel obliged you, coming up behind you, one hand curling around your hip to steady himself as the other reached easily to the top shelf to grab the book your fingertips skimmed. As he leaned forward, you could feel the hard planes of his chest against your back and you wanted to abandon all your plans to slowly seduce Azriel into a puddle on the floor, but you remained steadfast in your decision. Nesta had pushed a book into your hands and said she tried this once with Cassian and that the resulting hours were pure heaven, and you wanted to test the theory, curiosity rivaling that of your mate’s.
You barely registered Azriel putting the book in your hands, too lost in the warmth of his familiar touch. But you composed yourself quickly, leaning back into him to kiss him in thanks, not so subtly pushing your ass back into his hips. A feeling of revelry settled in your chest when you felt him already half hard beneath his pants, his fingers curling tighter around your hip.
Oh so reluctantly, you pulled away, perfect picture of obliviousness as you plopped back down on the armchair you were occupying previously.
Azriel thought he would collapse in on himself when you went to sit back down. You had him so tightly ensnared it was like he was still in the midst of the initial mating frenzy. He briefly wondered if the mind-boggling need for you would ever go away, though part of him knew hoped it never would.
He took a moment to compose himself — if that was even possible when one’s mate was clearly playing a dangerous game of seduction — bracing himself with one arm steady against the bookshelf.
Despite how much Azriel so greatly wanted to shirk his responsibilities to bend you over his desk, he wouldn’t. Not yet anyway. The work day wasn’t quite over, and the plans he was making for you would surely last too long to finish his research afterwards. So he steeled himself and took a deep, steadying breath, willing his blood to fill his head again so he could think with some semblance of clarity.
Though at baseline, he always found it difficult to think rationally when you were around.
While Azriel was trying — and failing — to regain his composure, you were feigning extreme interest in the book you had selected at random: The History and Systems of Fae War Treaties.
If Azriel had been paying any attention to what you were reaching for, he’d have caught on to your ploy, but luckily for you the mere sight of you was enough to render him at least somewhat incapacitated.
You took a peek at him over the back of the chair, triumphant satisfaction crooking your lips into a mischievous smile. Maybe this would be the day he finally cracks, you think to yourself.
But as the sun dipped lower beneath the skyline of Velaris below, and as Azriel stubbornly worked away at his desk, you felt the tiredness of the day settle into your bones, pull you deeper into the plush leather of Azriel’s loveseat. Cassian had run you ragged with training this morning, and Rhys and Amren had your mind working tirelessly as the three of you attempted to draft a peace treaty in a meager four hours.
But you wouldn’t sleep, not yet, not until you had reduced Azriel to a beautiful, orgasmic mess in his chair. Not until the hazel of his eyes were blown dark with desire and pleading as you straddled his hips.
The next hour was a fight to stay awake as the words on the pages in your lap began to blur into obscurity, mind muddling with theories and questions — though the book was an off handed choice, you couldn’t deny that the information was coincidentally incredibly pertinent to the discussion you were having with Rhys and Amren earlier in the day.
The telltale sigh of a day’s work completed pulled your attention away from your book, gaze settling on your mate. His hair was mused in a way that told you he had spent the last however long skating his fingers through it, but as always it fell perfectly across his forehead in defiance of the tiredness creeping up his neck.
Azriel’s eyes met yours and apparently your coy seduction earlier still held his body in a vice, evident in the way he stood and stalked to you. There was a cool, domineering edge to his movements and you knew your plan had worked to a degree, but the determination you had to break him down had leeched out of you the same way the night had stolen the day’s heat.
You hummed in satisfaction as he leaned down to kiss you, the pressure gentle and so, so sweet. A stark contrast to the dark and tempting storm of desire Azriel flooded your senses with down the bond.
Never once breaking the contact of your kiss, he’d wedged a knee between your legs as one hand braced against the arm of the loveseat while the other danced at the hem of your dress, endearingly asking for permission.
Your mouth curved against his and you guided his hand up to your hip, gasping delightedly when his hand tracked further up your waist, bringing the hem of your dress up with it as he slotted your hips more comfortably against his leg.
His lips traced a scalding trail of open mouthed kisses against your jaw, your neck, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest that had your hips rolling against him.
“So bold for me,” he said, his hand skating across your unclothed skin while he urged your hips to grind a little harder against his thigh. You gasped, the pressure so wonderfully perfect against your cunt.
Though your initial intention was to get Azriel all hot and bothered, you couldn’t deny that the game you had set yourself up in had the same effect on you; the lingering, almost lazy path his eyes swept over your body every time you shifted across from him left heat singing between your legs, untamed longing for you dancing down the golden thread between you.
“Az…” you rasped, arching your hips up to meet his still clothed body, the top of your dress pushed languidly down to your waist as Azriel played slow music on the skin of your breasts. The loveseat was a cramped fit at best, but Azriel’s surprising flexibility and dexterity made it work despite the general largeness of his wings and frame. He’d made even the smallest corners of the House work for your sexual escapades.
The memories of all the scandalous little happenings you two have been partaking in the past few months flitted across your mind’s eye like an erotic slideshow, and you groaned. Legs tightening around his in desperate search for more friction, more contact, more of him. His name on your lips again was a wanton plea, a sound so wonderfully obscene Azriel almost came in his pants.
“Hmm?” He hummed, closing his lips around your nipple, teeth gently tugging before his tongue was quick to soothe the ache. The way your hips were grinding so shamelessly against him had his head spinning with a swirling mix of lust and love, and he clung to the last shreds of self discipline he had. It was all he could do to not tear both of your clothes off and sink himself deep into your brilliant warmth.
Azriel had always been patient, mastery over his desire was a skill he’d honed meticulously over the past few centuries — though you had a way of quickly unraveling his self control with one flutter of your eyelashes. But he wanted to make this last for you, wanted to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible. So he pressed his thigh more firmly between your legs, his own hips slotting against the side of your body.
You gasped at the feel of him, of how hard he was against your hip, and you tried to reach him, tried to get him to release some of the tension you knew coiled in his belly. He groaned deep and breathless when you pressed insistently against him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he continued his ministrations on your body.
Azriel’s hands were everywhere, trailing paths around your breasts, up your neck, into your hair, and between your legs the way he no doubt was doing with the maps on his desk earlier.
It was infuriating how close you were already, how swiftly the tables had turned (though you half blamed the sudden onset of your fatigue the day had cursed you with), how with one well placed touch you were on the brink of collapse at Azriel’s mercy yet again.
He was urging your hips faster now, his fingers and lips making quick work of all the places he knew would have you keening. And before you could even register that he was still fully clothed, hard cock still straining against the confines of his pants, you were falling, breathless and dizzy with release.
The night had been far from over. You came twice more in that godsdamned loveseat – once with his fingers buried inside you and another time with his head between your legs – before he whisked you away to your bedroom where you finally, finally felt the delicious stretch of him inside you.
By the time the sun was making its appearance over the horizon once more, you had lost count of how many times Azriel had you begging.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Though your spicy little rendezvous in his office – and encore in the bedroom – wasn’t quite an exact replica of what played out in the book you had apparently just read, Azriel had thought your coy seduction had its intended effect. He’d been so fucking desperate for you that he couldn’t wait until you were out of his study to have you coming for him.
But, as he skimmed the pages of the chapter you marked, he couldn’t help but think that maybe he wouldn’t mind being fully at the mercy of your whims, wouldn’t mind submitting to the pleasure that you so easily coaxed from him. He was already always so eager to please you, so willing to crawl to the ends of the earth for you if you had so much as suggested you wanted him to.
“Azriel?” Nesta’s voice dripped with wicked amusement, effectively pulling him from his erotic reverie. “I never thought I’d see you in this section of the library.”
Fuck.
He hadn’t anticipated that he’d run into Nesta, a severely idiotic oversight on his part considering the House’s library was something akin to her own personal sanctuary. Azriel turned slowly on his heels to face her, mind working in overdrive to come up with a viable excuse for him being there.
“Nesta,” was all he came up with. Pathetic.
Her smirk turned deadly when she realized he was floundering. Arms crossed over her chest, chin tilted ever so slightly upwards, she looked the very portrait of smug amusement; he would expect nothing less of his friend who moonlighted as Lady Death.
Nesta’s eyes dropped to the book he forgot he was holding, and her eyebrows shot up in understanding, “Ah, I just recommended that one to Y/N. She gave it a hefty five stars. Said it was…intriguing.”
Nesta’s sly comments were enough to confirm Azriel’s suspicions that you were taking bedroom inspiration from the arsenal of smutty books the House stocked. And, with the way Nesta was biting her tongue, he could tell that she knew exactly why he was there.
Cassian, that fucking mouthy bastard.
Before Azriel could open his mouth to tell her that it wasn’t what it looked like – even though they both knew it was exactly what it looked like – Nesta stalked past him, pulling books off the shelf with striking precision. With a stack of five books balanced on one hand, she took the one Azriel was holding and reshelved it.
“These are Y/N’s favorite,” she said, this time with a little bit more softness and understanding as she placed them gingerly in his arms. “I’m sure she’d love if you read them.”
Azriel scanned each cover, a fond smile working to tilt the corners of his lips. You did love these; he had been familiar with these covers long before you were even mated, always keeping a lovingly watchful eye on the things you enjoyed, filing the knowledge away in his mind for later.
“Thanks, Nesta,” he said sincerely, adoration for you filling his chest with warmth as he remembered the excitement lighting your eyes while you read these books, cute flush radiating off your cheeks.
Nesta only nodded, giving his shoulder an encouraging few pats as she stalked off to another aisle, no doubt scouring the shelves for a new read.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Azriel told himself that he’d only read a few chapters — for research — but he hadn’t realized that he’d spent the better half of his day off lounging on the loveseat in his study.
Despite his previous reservations around the smutty books you’d so lovingly treasured, he found he was enjoying them — and not just for the well written, detailed sex scenes that you were pulling ideas from. He was two-thirds of the way through the second book, in the midst of the big climax, when you snuck up on him.
“It seems you’ve discovered my dirty little secret,” you said coyly, arms coming up behind him to snake around his shoulders.
Azriel jumped at your sudden appearance, inwardly cursing himself for teaching you how to sneak up on someone so effectively. He closed the book swiftly, feeling a flustered blush creep up his neck.
You pouted and rested your chin on his shoulder, “Aw, you were just getting to the best part! Don’t stop reading on my account.”
Azriel groaned but gave in, leaning back into your touch, “Don’t tease me.”
“I would never tease you, my love,” you said mockingly before kissing his cheek. “It is really the best part, though. The paint scene—“
Before you could regale the details of the main characters’ sexual escapades, Azriel took your chin in his fingers and slotted his lips over yours in a silent plea to stop your innocent tormenting. He reveled in the way you kissed him back without pause; he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way you loved him as eagerly as he did you.
“Dirty little secret, huh?” He quipped, lips brushing yours as a bemused smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. You rolled your eyes as you made your way around the back of the chair, gesturing for him to uncross his legs so you could settle yourself on his lap.
Your weight was a welcome comfort as he continued prodding you, “Is this why you’ve been so…eager lately?”
“I didn’t think you’d notice,” you admitted, winding your arms around his neck as he scoffed in mock disbelief.
“Give me some credit love, I notice everything when it comes to you.” Came his quick response.
You pursed your lips, half in childish dissatisfaction that your little game was over, “I just wanted to know how to get you to beg for me. I needed ideas.”
Your nonchalance belied the wicked sensuality of your words and he chuckled, wrapping his wings around you both before mapping a scathing trail of kisses up your neck. The pillowy feel of his lips brushing your ear made you shudder, his teeth nibbling playfully at your earlobe as he hummed deep in his chest, “We have a lifetime together, there’s no rush. But since you want it so badly, shall I show you how well I can beg for you?”
Azriel’s offer sent an exhilarating shiver down your spine, and you so desperately wanted to give in, wanted to watch him come undone beneath you as he pleaded with you to touch him. But you shook your head despite yourself, competitive stubbornness the only barrier between you and what you wanted.
“I want to earn it, make you want me so bad you can’t help yourself.”
Your words were a breathy murmur that nearly had Azriel flipping you over right there on the too small lounge chair, but he resisted, prioritizing his assurances that you were the only thing he wanted every second of every day.
“That’s the thing, beloved,” he whispered in your ear, deep voice doused in honey reverberating in your bones as your desire flared so wildly it made you lightheaded. His hand, calloused palms rough against your skin, skated beneath the hem of your dress to grab hold of your hip and move you so you were straddling him.
This was the image you played over and over in your mind. The unbridled, unrestrained look of pleading in his eyes that blew his pupils wide, that had his hips shifting against yours in a display of just how much he wanted you.
“I always want you,” he continued. “I’d beg for you like I am dying of dehydration and you are my oasis. Just ask, and I’ll do exactly as you say.”
You were mesmerized, finger tracing the sharp contours of his jawline before ending at his chin, tilting his gaze up with the same practiced dominance you’d seen him slip into countless times before. You savored the way he shuddered at your touch, pretty lips parting as his chest heaved.
The corner of your mouth quirked, your breath a ghost over his lips, “Show me, then.”
#azriel x you#azriel x reader#azriel fluff#azriel smut#azriel x y/n#azriel fanfiction#azriel fic#azriel imagine#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel#azriel acotar#azriel#a court of thorns and roses#acomaf#acosf#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acowar#acotar x you#acotar imagine#acotar fic#acotar fanfic#a court of silver flames#a court of wings and ruin#a court of mist and fury#acofas#azriel angst#azriel x female!reader#azriel x f!reader
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Crocodad Theory: The not-so-Crack-pot Theory.
Making this post in order to replace my old Crocodad thesis since I think I can do better now. Plus I was still using the old theory name then and I dislike seeing it pinned on my tumblr now. You can find that older post HERE if you desire to!
Crocodad theory, chances are you have heard about this theory if you are even slightly invested in the One Piece fandom. But despite its infamy, and outside its stanch believers like myself, it's mostly considered a crack theory and used for a laugh.
Now let's be clear, Crocodad theory is not a crack theory. A crack or crack-pot theory is more of a headcanon built on vibes, it's a fun idea made up out of thin air and isn't really serious. If the Crocodad theory was a crack theory it would have evaporated into the nether by now. It's over a decade old, after all, and yet it persists to this day! That is because the Crocodad theory has real evidence from the canon, the One Piece offshoots, and maybe even Oda himself.
If you weren't aware of the Crocodad theory, sometimes lovingly called Dadodile, let me summarize it very succinctly. The theory is that Crocodile is a transgender man and gave birth to Luffy. Crocodile is Luffy's other father and his birthing parent. If you think that sounds ridiculous or even hilarious, let me walk you through it because I assure you- that is intentional.
Let us begin where the theory began... Impel Down.
The possibility for this theory was born in 2009 with these panels:
The simple fact that Ivankov exists and that he knows Crocodile, from "when he was just starting out" mind you, makes this not only possible but probable.
What other "secret" could Ivakov be speaking of here? It's definitely not his weakness to water, that would just be bad storytelling. It could be that Crocodile is the child of Rocks which is possible considering we now know Ivankov was at the Gods Valley incident. But if I could speak as a writer for a moment, it would really be a waste for an author to introduce a character that can change genders and then bring back one of the first big villains like Crocodile, AND THEN connect the two with the mention of weakness but not make that secret that Crocodile had once been a woman. Or even at least a part of the reason.
But if that reasoning falls through for you, here is some in-canon evidence for the idea that Crocodile is transgender:
First of all, the agents' code names are so gendered: Every single digit agent is Mr with a Mrs, or Ms partner.
Crocodile’s name. His moniker is different from almost every other powerful pirate the story introduces to us. He isn’t just Desert King Crocodile, he is Desert King Sir Crocodile. Again it is oddly pronoun-centered. As if he is trying to remind people that he’s a guy.
The introduction of Bon Clay. Bon Clay is our first canon queer character in One Piece. He makes mention of being a girl many times and feels like a joke character when we first meet him. But as we know in One Piece, a pirate crew is a reflection of the Captain. Crocodile isn’t prejudiced to queer people like Bon Clay alludes to others being a few times. Crocodile even allowed Bon Clay to be both the male and female of his team!
Next up was the reveal of Baby Crocodile and how it’s deliberating ambiguous what gender Crocodile is. In every other Warlord's childhood look reveal, their gender is obvious, so why was Crocodile left out of that?
Then of course we have Gold Roger's execution, and how almost everyone got a reaction panel. But not Crocodile. No, we only see the back of his head. Oda has shown that he loves to get every single character's reaction to major events, sometimes to a fault. So why is he trying so hard to hide Crocodile from us? It just isn’t Oda’s style to leave someone out unless there is some kind of secret he wants to build up too. Now be sure to keep this in mind for later.
Last but certainly not least is just how much of an absolute troll Oda is. This will not be the last time I bring this up, Oda is a HUGE troll. He loves to play to his favorite fan theories and he decides most everything on how funny it is. And wouldn't it be funny if the first antagonist in the Grandline was secretly the birth parent of Luffy?
I mean just look at this! Oda, you absolute troll.
Bottom line: Trans Crocodile is more likely than not.
But this is where a lot of people decide the rest of this theory is crack, they take Trans!Crocodile and leave Crocodad out for reasons I honestly can't understand. Despite that, Cracodad has just as much if not more evidence than the Transgender part of this theory.
Before I begin I would like everyone reading to keep a few things in mind. All throughout the Impel down arc and the journey to Marineford, and even the first few chapters into Marineford, Crocodile could not have given a shit about Luffy, Ace, or the war at all. He did not care who won the war or if everyone involved died. He came to the battlefield for the sole purpose of killing Whitebeard. PERIOD. He was never once shown reacting with any concern when Luffy began facing down anyone strong. Not even Magellan. Crocodile had been around Luffy, seeing him do inspiring things for a massive amount of chapters by the time we get to Marineford, and yet Crocodile literally didn't care if Luffy lived or died, he just wanted to fight Whitebeard.
With that clear let's move on to what happened after Luffy's father was revealed to the world in Marineford. This moment is where the most obvious evidence first came about:
When Sengoku announces Luffy's father to the world we get many reaction shots, but once again Crocodile is conveniently missing from the lineup. He even disappears for a whole chapter! The young man who took down his decade-long plan to take over Alabasta just got announced to be the most wanted man in the world son, and we get no reaction from Crocodile... its suspicious.
Crocodile stopped Ace’s execution: Now Crocodile explains this by saying he ‘didn’t want to let Sengoku have the pleasure of victory’ but seriously? What kind of petty ass BS reasoning is that?! Crocodile has dreams and ambitions, and yet he gives up trying to be the one to take down Whitebeard to randomly save someone he canonly mocks in Impel Down? Someone he doesn’t care about. Some people will tell you it’s because Luffy inspired him like Luffy does many others, but what exactly is Luffy doing in Marineford that he didn’t in Impel Down or even Alabasta? Nothing. That means Crocodile has an entire about-face for no believable reason while completely off-screen. Which we've already said isn't Oda's style.
Daz and Crocodile face Mihawk to help Luffy: When Daz blocks Mihawk’s strike, Luffy questions it. Daz answers: It’s an order from above! That means Crocodile ordered Daz to specifically protect Luffy. Again, why? What reason did he have to do that? If this was some latent Crocodile has been inspired™️ moment, why wouldn’t Oda show it? Oda loves to hype up those moments, and loves to detail it all to the smallest piece. But Crocodile just randomly decided to have his main man Daz look out for this person that he COULDN’T HAVE GIVEN A CRAP ABOUT JUST TEN EPISODES BEFORE does not fit within the story. Then, right after Daz blocks Mihawk, Crocodile appears out of the woodwork to block another attack.
When Mihawk questions why he’d protect Luffy, Crocodile’s only response is “I’m not in the best mood now, Mihawk, you better watch yourself.” It’s interesting that he has no reason, none, he just comments that he’s in a shit mood. Maybe because he just found out he once stabbed his own child in the gut and left him to die?!
Crocodile vs Akainu: The brother killing Lava Man™️ is probably the most dangerous person in the war. He has no mercy, no morals, no restraint. So the fact that as Luffy is lying comatose and weak, with Jimbe slumped over him, Akainu about to deliver the final blow, Crocodile coming out of nowhere once again is so telling.
The fact is: Crocodile went above and beyond to save Luffy. That final stand against Akainu is so powerful. Crocodile doesn’t just save Luffy, he rushes to Luffy's aid, slicing through Akainu and reassembles to stand protectively between them. He did not need to do this at all. Oda didn’t need to have him do this either!
There were plenty of other characters that could have essentially done the same exact thing, but Oda chose to have Crocodile, someone who shouldn’t have been on Luffy’s side at all, save his life in the final moment.
Lastly, without a word, Crocodile uses Sables to get Luffy to Law’s ship. He risked his life, faced down the one person who could kill him without a second thought, and sweeps Luffy away to safety without any stated reason at all. In fact, everything he says is deliberately vague. Crocodile doesn’t believe in loyalty, he dumps people if they are weak (see; Alabasta Crocodile vs Luffy desert fight) so his line of “you gotta protect the one you wanna protect! Don’t let them have their way!” Feels so out of character. Crocodile has to have a reason for this odd behavior. And no, it doesn’t end there! In the defense of Luffy, Crocodile has an awesome and powerful moment where he stands in unity with all the Whitebeard commanders. HIS ENEMIES. Crocodile stands in unity with the people, he himself stated he hated more than anything, for Luffy!
These are the moments that alerted people to what would soon be called the Crocomom theory, now called Crocodad. But just because it began there doesn't mean there wasn't foreshadowing from before Marineford.
Let's go over all of that now:
First to talk about is once again Crocodile's crew. Miss Father's Day debuted in episode 124 of the anime and chapter 205 of the manga. She has a green amphibian theme to her, which is interesting because she is a woman with the moniker Father's Day while also having a theme of an animal that is famous for being able to change its gender. Her debut episode even has her introduced along with the reveal that Luffy's using his blood to fight Crocodile.
The next point is something Oda has never explained. Crocodile has strange relationships with children. From hiring a sixteen-year-old Miss Goldenweek, leaving her out of the Mr. 3 assassination order, and her history of actually sinking Crocodile's ships before getting hired, all the way to how Crocodile lectured Luffy in their fight. It just had the cadence of a parent. Not even Luffy's parent, just a parent. He lectures like someone who has experience with children.
Next, Luffy does not look like Dragon. That is a direct quote from Luffy in the manga. But you know who he does look like?
That's right! Luffy looks a lot like Crocodile. If you need more convincing on this, there is a great post by Dashevacotton that puts together many of the best canon pictures of Luffy dressed up like Crocodile. That post is here!
Crocodile and Luffy are incredibly similar. Not just in looks, but in personality, and in their general life.
These two have so much in common. From having a way with animals, to the amount of unadulterated loyalty they've inspired in their crews, all the way to the cadence of their speech.
Crocodile and Luffy even have a similarly goofy reaction to seeing the underground passage to the Alabasta Poneglyph.
Episode 123, episode time 13:16 Crocodile spots the entrance and laughs, "Ha, now I see secret stairs." Also in episode 123, episode time 20:47 Luffy looks around and spots the secret stairs. "That hole... it looks gator-ish."
Even what we know of Crocodile's backstory is that he had a rapid rise to fame just like Luffy by being a rookie who came in and beat down non-canon characters like Douglas Bullet to the shock of the world.
Next, let's bring up an earlier point: Oda-sensei is a mega troll.
This isn't exactly new information, Oda once deflected to bringing up a dick fight instead of answering if Zoro or Sanji was stronger. He is a Troll. He loves wordplay, and he likes to hint hint nudge nudge us all day long. Just look at Oda having Sanji call himself a prince in Alabasta as a joke, only to realize years later that he actually was a prince.
It's because of Oda's tendency to play around and make knowing jokes we've gotten some pretty compelling evidence for the Crocodad theory.
First would be the wordplay!
-Crocodile is closely linked to a Bananawani-> Monkeys like Banana -> Monkey D. Dragon is a reptilian Monkey attracted to Banana reptile. Fight me
- A 'crocodile smile' is a term most often used to mean a fake or ingenuine smile. Crocodile's scar has been liked to look like a 'crocodile smile', which would mean Crocodile is the only character that always has a smile on his face. What a fun bit of wordplay to foreshadow the birth parent of Joyboy!
Then there is this SBS alongside the One Piece School spin-off manga by Sohei Koj.
What a great way to get out of revealing Luffy's parentage without actually revealing it!
And of course, we have the One Piece Mafia Theatre episode of the anime.
Oda would certainly make this canon just because of his troll tendencies. This is a hilarious theory because the story supports it yet only a fringe group believes in it. It's hilarious and therefore it's probably true.
Lastly, the symbolism makes this theory truly great.
I've already mentioned how Crocodile's scar being a 'crocodile smile' and thus giving him a permanent smile on his face would make him the most meaningful candidate for Luffy's birth parent. Joyboy, our Sun God Nika, was born from a man with a permanent fake smile; who is also named after an animal with the world's biggest smile.
It's just such a perfect setup, it makes my writer's heart swell.
Since Oda has stated a mother in One Piece would stop the adventure, it would fit that the first major villain in the Grandline to try and stop Luffy's adventure ended up being the man who gave birth to Luffy.
If we are going to speak of symbolism, I'd be remiss not to mention what a crocodile spiritually symbolizes. I really don't think I need to explain why adaptability, creation, ambiguity, and duality mean so much to this theory.
This theory could die or be confirmed any day now that we've entered a God's Valley flashback. I will love it either way but truly, honestly, I believe this. I hope I convinced a few of you to. If you are interested in the succinct list of Crocodad evidence that post is Here!
So in conclusion...
Crocodad is canon!
#one piece fandom#one piece#sir crocodile#anime#dadodile#monkey d luffy#fan theory#until the oda plops luffys mom in front of me i will believe this theory#theories#there is literally no other explanation for marineford without dadodile#luffy literally looks like crocodile#not a crack theory#long reads#long post
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play pretend | joseph quinn
summary: Stranger Things comes to its last season and Joseph is your co-star. It's the last scene of the day, you were doing fine until now. But it was a pretty intense moment and it's hard to keep focus when the boy's lips are close to your neck. 2k.
It was the last scene of the day. And you were pretty exhausted. Even though it was easy and actually fun to share the screen with Joseph, who turned everything lighter and enjoyable, all you wanted to do was go home and get some sleep. But you needed to hold on just a little bit more.
It was pretty intense, this last scene, and you needed to stay focused just a little more, but it started to get harder and harder due to your tiredness and Eddie characterization. At this point, he “came back to life” as Kaz, confirming all the fan theories and headcanons. That meant he was like some kind of vampire. Everytime he smiled you could see his fangs and scars covering his chest.
You couldn’t help thinking it was... hot. Like, so, so hot.
You needed to act scared, and thank god you were a really good actress, because you couldn’t think of anything else other than how stunning he was. Your eyes travelling through his whole body.
“Hey… you ok?” his raspy voice takes you out of your own thoughts, and only then you notice how long you've been staring at him with a stupid face.
“What? nothing.” you swallow hard, giggling out of nervousness, and he doesn't believe you, not even for a second “I’m just… trying to remember my part.”
“oh, don't worry, you're doing amazing darling.” he says with a warm smile and a soft voice that almost feels like it's hugging you, and all you can do is nod as you smile back, your cheeks getting warm too, not sure if he was just being nice, cause he was actually a gentleman, or if there was something… more.
You don't have much time to think deeply about it, though. Or saty anything back to him. Because the director gets back to his seat and shouts to everyone to get to their places.
You were ready to go on your own when Joseph takes your hand and guides you to your marks, and suddenly you get embarrassed of the camera, because you feel everyone was looking at the way your hands were intertwined. And he notices how you seemed away, that's why he squeezes your palm as an attempt to reassure you one more time, before you hear the directors voice's loudly again.
“And ACTION! Whenever you’re ready.”
You take a deep breath and look into those big chocolate puppy eyes. And you feel safe. He’s waiting for you to be prepared, waiting for you to lead the scene, he wouldn't start until you said so, and you nod as a sign.
It’s almost scary the way he turns so fast to something else. You knew he was good at his job, for real, but witnessing it so close was completely different. His eyes getting darker. You weren’t aware that was something actually real, that someone could actually do that kind of thing, and it seems so easy for him to do so.
Then it’s just easy to get along, to get into character and go with him, following his pace now, like you were someone else too.
“Eddie? W-what are you doing?” Your voice cracks a little, and you take a step back, frightened. He looked just like your best friend but something was off.
“Don’t call me that, princess. You know I’m not that freak.” He growls back at you, with a sick smirk on his lips.
A step closer to you, and even though your instincts beg for you to run, you feel frozen, paralyzed. He looks at you up and down, almost like he’s enjoying seeing you so afraid, so vulnerable.
“That’s not funny Eddie, stop. Please.” You beg one more time, your eyes getting cloudy due the tears.
“You know what? You’re starting to piss me off…” He’s close enough now, his breathe against your own, and he looks at you, at every detail of your face, every mole that draws your skin, and he hushs. “Too bad I have to do this to such a pretty, pretty girl…”
He caresses your cheek, tracing his fingers down to your neck and getting your hair out of the way.
And for a second, his eyes slipper to yours and turn soft again, a glance of your sweet boy there once more, a shred of hope.
“Eddie?” you ask one more time, agonizing, praying he could hear you.
“Run.” He says, with his last glance of consciousness, but it’s too late.
His fingers dive into the waves of your hair and he holds tight, pulling it back so your neck gets more exposed.
“Who... who a-are you?” You don’t have any strength to scream or try to escape. You’re horrified, your eyes bursting desperate tears. He smiles, his fangs actually shining when the light hits them, and he dives his teeth to your skin.
And you giggle.
Automatically flinching, you try to hide your neck, and it takes a second for you to notice what just happened. Your eyes get wide open and your cheeks burst into flames.
“CUT! What the heck was that?” You hear the scream, and Joseph lays his forehead on your shoulder as you cover your mouth out of embarrassment. You were so tired you couldn’t control yourself as his touch tickled your skin. And now your swearing every bad word you could think of inside your head, wanting to desapear to the ground.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” you repeated that over and over but when you hear Joseph chuckle, all you can do is laugh too.
“You got to be kidding me…” he shushes, nodding as he raises his eyebrows and looks at you with some joy on his face. He thought it was cute, because, to be honest, what could you do?
“I’m extremely sorry. I… I don’t know what happened to me… can we… can we take five? Please?”
You don’t even wait for a confirmation and just run to your dressing room, praying that you could turn invisible for a moment.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” you repeat uninterruptedly, taking deep breaths and opening your restroom sink, throwing some water to your face with the hope that could wake you up and get you to your senses again. And it seems to be working until you hear the knock at your door.
“I’m almost done, give me just a sec!” You shout through the room, looking your reflex at the mirror as you recompose yourself, but the knock doesn’t go away, and this time it comes accompanied with a sweet voice.
“It’s me, can I come inside?” he asks, seeming a little worried, and you just couldn't say no to him, so you shush a “yes” almost inaudible and he opens the door slowly, entering the room, and immediately closing it behind him.
It takes a sec to any of you to say something. He just stares at you, concerned.
“… you ok?” his voice is so warm that it feels like a cloud envolves your body. Even though you weren't actually ok, he makes you feel better just by saying that.
“Oh, yes, it’s just… I can’t believe myself, we really had it and I ruined it all…” you sigh, disappointed, and pinch the bridge of your nose with your two fingers.
“Hey, hey! Don’t say that. everyone is tired and we understand... you were doing amazing and, you know, we can shoot it over and over again… you don’t have any idea of how many bloopers of me we’re gonna have to watch after the season releases” he laughs, leaning in your direction and looking at you with those big chocolate orbes. You know he’s only saying this to reassure you, to make you feel better, and it works. Actually, he didn’t even need to say anything to make you feel better, but he could always manage to do more.
You felt like you could run away and jump over the highest cliff, because he would catch you, you would be safe. It’s the first time someone made you feel like this in your entire life. You always knew there was something special about that boy.
And the way he was looking at you now, getting closer and closer, just to caress your hair and make you relax, was really… really special…
“It’s ok, really…” he says one more time, and you smile softly, starting to believe him. “I have an idea… we could practice, you know, rehearse that scene so you’ll be prepared to shoot it. what do you think?” For a moment, just a second, he seems shy, vulnerable, and then you are finally sure of what that meant. The way he said it faltering, and looked at you with those big wondering eyes.
All those months shooting together, getting to know each other. The way he looked at you, without hesitation, without looking away not even a single time. And the way he smiled when you always looked back. How he was always close, always joking with you, just to make you laugh, just so he could see your smile.
“yeah, that’s a… that’s a pretty good idea.” you chuckle shyly too, your face heating up, the butterflies dancing inside you. Because you felt the same way.
He smiles, wide open, his face almost shining, and he gets even closer, getting his hand to your neck again, now with a really soft touch, making you shiver, feeling so electric that it seemed like a lightning had just hit you within his skin, through his fingertips.
“Whenever you’re ready.” he jokes, trying the best imitation he could do of the director’s voice, and you roll your eyes at his stupidity. you know he was trying to make you relax, but the way every inch of your body is desiring him make it almost ache.
“Eddie?” you say, your voice sounding a little raspy and aerated because you couldn’t breathe normally, your eyes looking at his under your lashes.
“Don’t run.” Joseph answers, and he smiles at you, his orbes pulling you to him like magnets.
You can’t even say your line back, you just couldn’t breathe properly to your voice to come out. You feel his body getting closer, his face getting closer and closer to yours, the almost nonexistent between you two evaporating.
You stare at him for how long you could, analyzing every single detail that made him himself, just so you could mark the way he was looking at you forever in your head until his lips get to your neck with a gentle kiss. It’s a shock, and you flinch a bit, just because it confirms to you this is real.
You don’t want to laugh this time. On the contrary, you let out a tiny gasp and close your eyes, feeling his warm skin touching yours. His lips tracing its way up your neck, to your jaw, and he stops, just so he could stare at you again, cause he wanted to fix this moment in his mind too.
He holds your face, so carefully you feel you were made of porcelain. Like someone holding the most beautiful flower to ever exist, too afraid to damage its fragile petals. And he kisses you, finally. His lips fit yours so perfectly it almost feels surreal, because it felt like you were designed for each other, like you couldn’t belong to anybody else. It is so soft, the perfect texture, pressure, warmth… Everything was just… perfect.
You’ve waited for this for so long, and you feel so light, almost flying. It sounds cliche, but you’re pretty sure you could hear the fireworks, the ones that you feel exploding inside your chest, like they were actually around you, almost too close… too real…
“Guys? are you there? we need to keep recording!” you hear a muffled voice behind the door, and someone knocking again and again, louder and louder. “guys?”
It takes you two out of that trance, back to reality, and you look into each other’s eyes with such joy you could see the sparkles.
Joseph laughs through the kiss, and hides his face into your neck again. When he looks at you, his face is red like a tomato, and it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, making you giggle as you bite your lower lip, attempting to hide your smile.
“We’re coming!” You answer, looking away when you start to blush, trying to recompose yourself as you fix your hair and your clothes, even though they remained intact.
“We can do it.” He says, holding your chin with his thumb and making you look at him, raising his eyebrows to emphasize his words. “You can do it. And I’ll be with you the whole time.”
You nod, holding his hand and squeezing it a little, just to make sure that was real, that it actually happened.
And you knew, no matter what, from that day on, he would be with you the whole time.
hello! this is my first time writing in another language and posting something here, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes and I hope you guys understand...
anyway, it would be awesome to hear your opnions and I really hope you've enjoyed it!! <3
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My dear gelatin orb pet,
Seelie! Genshin x Platonic! Gn! Reader
Inazuma edition
Tags : crack, fluff, scenarios, headcanons
Warninigs : mentions of stalking, animal attack
Summary : you took home a strange creature that looked nothing like anything in your world. So you somehow try to live and be friends with the peculiar pet of yours.
A strange flying orb is now basking in your presence, observing you attentively. Uneasiness filled your entire being as you were stared down at, so you attempted to break the suffocating atmosphere by talking to the orbit. Minutes pass, and there is no reaction whatsoever, until the little thing flies off somewhere, only to return with a torn off paper sheet and a pencil in their tiny nubs.
Heizou ♥︎
"Hey~! I am Heizou, the great detective of Inazuma! It sure was a dream of mine to one day meet someone as odd as you! I hope we can get along with each other, even with our different physical traits. I was wondering, could I please make a psychological study with you? I want to know if there's any more oddities about you, especially your mind!"
Okay, why is this period blood blob trying to attempt psychological experiments with you now? You just met, and he's already looking through your soul 🧐.
You might suck at geography but you never heard anything about the so called 'Inazuma'. Wait, so he's an alien?
That theory have already explained why he was so interested in your psychology, and honestly, you were kind of scared of him after the realization.
But it was still hard to feel threatened by an dark red floating circle with a little bouncing antenna. Maybe he used that to communicate with his species?
You weren't familiar with the behavior of different creatures from another planets, but you discovered that these one seemed to be extra clingy.
He floats after you everywhere, always watching with the most attentive gaze, looking out for any type of quirks you might have. You became all the more aware of him, secretly staring at him with your peripheral vision so that he couldn't try anything funny🤨.
He would startle you a lot, annoying you and scaring you on purpose. He LOVES your reactions, whether it would be you losing your temper and tossing him around like a basketball, or you screaming at the top of your lungs when you feel something slimy wiggle under your shirt.
You're lucky that he doesn't do that all the time. Surprisingly, the cherry colored orb has his own business to do, which is just as strange as his appearance. He likes to go out, watch and stalk random people on the street. You found out when you caught him red-handed in the act, hiding behind a bush and looking at all the people passing by.
You tried to scold him, tell him that it's dangerous to go around for him like that, but to no avail, he would always nod in confirmation and then do the same thing on the next day.
So you decided to find him a hobby, something that would distract him long enough from harassing strangers on the streets. And that is, television. News channels in particular.
It was completely accidental when you found out about his interest. You were extra bored, and decided to finally watch the TV in like a decade. Soon you found your crimson red companion levitating in the hall, glancing at the TV and back to you a few times before flying to your side and nuzzling in your lap, making himself comfortable in your warm hoodie. Petting his tiny body, you both took in the situations happening all around the world.
Arataki Itto ♡
"HEY THERE!!! IM THE FAMOUS ARATAKI ITTO!! THE LEDER OF THE ARATAKI GANG!!! ITS NICE TO MEET YOU!!! WHATS YOUR NAME? LETS BE FRIENDS!! YOU LOOK SO COOL!!!! DO YOU WANT TO JOIN MY GANG?"
Woah, that's one... energetic light bulb. Bouncing on your office table cheerily while his long vertical horns wobble a bit, he squeaks excitedly as if he just found out he won a lottery. Well, he kinda did though, if you're the one to take care of him.
At least that's what he thinks, as your demonstration of desiring to bathe him from all the dirt and dust he somehow gathered gave him all the right signals.
Even if he splashed and spilled all the water onto you, and wiggled and squeaked under the turned on faucet like an over-energized parrot, still, you would rub his soapy circular body with care, patting him with the softest towel of yours that he was sure you were the fittest blob-parent of all.
Did I mention parrots? He is one. An even more chaotic one. You have to hold him with your most strong grasp from him speeding across your house like a flash, bouncing off walls, ceiling and the floor like a deflated balloon. You always have to scold him like a concerned parent about how his form is not exactly unbreakable, and he still needs to be careful with surroundings.
And that escalated into him finding your bed as the best trampoline he can access. You want to stop him and tell him that he's going to break the carcass if he continues, but you just can't resist the sight of a palm sized jelly ball jumping on your bed gleefully, ridiculously rotating in the air as he lets happy sounds escape his nonexistent vocal cords.
Sometimes you would curse the universe for making your circle companion this cute, because he sure can cause a lot of trouble. Almost getting mauled by the neighbors dog because he wanted to pet it two days ago and almost breaking all of your glass dishes because he wanted to help you make the table yesterday. Oh boy, I'm sure excited for what's in store for the future😀.
Though, it was what you should've expected from a supposed gang leader. He even invited you to be a member of this band of his, remember?
You do agree now with all those shoujo mangas where the gangsta would actually be a softie inside, because your glowing orange ball friend sure is, no matter how destructive he acts.
Yae miko ♥︎
"My, my... such a interesting creature you are! It is sure a blessing for me to be in your presence, another amusing humanoid~. I am the Guuji of the Grand Narukami shrine, Yae Miko. I am also the owner of the Yae publishing house. As a grandee of the kitsune clan, it is a pleasure of mine to be familiar with such a high being like you. I am in your care from now on, my dear~"
WHAT IS THIS LIGHT PINK DOWNTURNED FOX EARS GAS FILLED BALLOON ON🗣🙌💯🔥🔥
On all seriousness though, you tried your hardest to understand atleast half of what she wrote, but so far what you seemed to catch is that she's nowhere near an earth creature. Oh and her name is Yae Miko.
Confusedly glancing at her then at her message, your nerve cells steamed as they tried to figure out what type of emotions you should be feeling in this case. The guuji seemed to be quite entertained by your puzzled face and somewhat judging side eye.
Her actions make you no less confused, as you question why would she harshly tug on your clothes at the most randomest times of the day. Out of nowhere, the pink squishy orb would just sail in the air over to you, and then pinch a spot on your clothed body and pull it with an incomprehensible strength.
Which leads you to chasing her, speeding up after her oddly fast self. With groans and screams you would finally catch up to her and squeeze her annoying ass to smitherins☠.
If you don't react to her antics, she'll keep being even more of an ass and pinch on your skin, hard. So far atleast half of your body now itches and pulsates because of your flying jelly companion.
Other than annoying you, the cherry blossom blob with ears likes to do research. Literally on anything. It ranges from politics, history, culture to bitcoin, nfts and all of the other shady stuff. She doesn't take half of the happening seriously, finding the stupidity of your kind ridiculous.
Oh, and she is going to shove it in your face. Always giggling when you two would watch an educational video on some topic, as if making fun of you. When she would write her opinion on your communication notebook she would always leave a snide remark like "the absurd that your kind ensues never ceases to humour me" or some shit.
She really just makes fun of your whole existence as if she's superior in any way. You do your best to hold yourself and not slap her into the oblivion. Oh, but she knows you would never do that. She knows.
Kokomi ♡
“I, Sangonomiya Kokomi, want to greatly express my gratitude towards your actions, human-like creature with a pure soul. Your kindness will always be remembered and appreciated in my heart. Now, as you read this, I shall, as the grand seigneur of Watatsumi affairs, be taken care of by you, as you are in capability to do so. I am one of the descendants of the Sangonomiya clan, and my full form being taken away from me is a major cause of danger for me. I hope you understand my demands, and I hope you will comply with them.”
A lot of confusing words and hard to spell names didn’t stop you from looking at her with puppy eyes and an ‘aww’ escaping your lips. Even though her tone might sounded a bit bossy near the end, your inner mother instincts still kicked in and your heart swore to protect the light globule that looked at you with anticipation.
Her colour pallet reminded you of aqua monsters, something along the lines of mermaids, sirens, and the similar. And you kinda guessed it, since the way your pink and ocean blue pearl like friend gravitated towards water was as if a magnetic pull was in between them.
The funniest thing is that at the first few days she didn’t even know you had water in your house. Modern furniture confused her senses and for a while she thought your biology didn’t require water.
Until one day you came particularly tired home, and the only thing in your mind was the thought of running a warm calming bath with the aroma of your sweet candles. Not noticing your dwarf merblob levitating right after you and watching you turn on the bath faucet, made you jump in your place when she plopped herself in the filling water.
You were about to groan and ask her to get out, up until your gaze fell on the itty-bitty joyous expression that she demonstrated while floating in the lukewarm liquid. With a snort, a small smile followed along with a defeated look. Letting the spheroid bathe instead of you, you contemplated about her otherworldliness.
It all escalated into a degree where she would spend almost all of her time in your bathroom, swimming in your bathtub hours on end. On your knees, with pleas and begging, you would query her to get out of the pear shaped tank, but to no avail, the deep sea creature would just ignore your whines and continue flowing around in the water.
“Komi please, I haven’t bathed in a decade.”
“Splash. Blub blub blub.”
And there she goes again, making bubbles and blowing them at your face as a response. Even so, you still let the marine pearl have her way, as she’s way too adorable to be mad at.
Kazuha ♥︎
“Come driving rain or winds that churn, I shall return, by blade alone, armed, if barefoot, to my home... I am Kaedehara Kazuha, a wanderer who roams the land. Fate alone has destined us to meet, thus it is a great gift for us to be able to communicate, distinctive individual. May I put a question to your origins, your story, and your name?”
What is he, a poet of some sorts? Such a distinguished gentleman, saying such extravagant things, but looking so ridiculous it could kill a person.
Guessing was probably your only best talent, as this japanese flag jello was immaculately successful at using all of the paper and stationary that he could find in your house to make his pieces of art.
Or the “haikus” as he calls them. Paper scrolls all over any hard surface, fully scribbled over with elegant handwriting. You wonder how the heck can a round strawberry marshmallow with nibs instead of hands write so much and also write prettier than you could ever manage.
Reading through those is one embarrassing of a trip as more than 70% of the writings are about you. The other 30% are about the environment, the furniture, the nature, the textures and sometimes about his homeland as you assumed.
And no you definitely didn’t bawl your eyes out while reading those and no you certainly didn’t feel sorry for the tiny little guy and no you for sure didn’t hug him in the most gentlest way and promise him that you’ll somehow get him back, no, beyond any doubt that didn’t happen.
On another note, this guy was unquestionably the cause of your literature grades significantly improving. Both you and your teacher are raising a brow at how good you instantaneously became at writing essays and other in the sorts. You even caught yourself in the act of speaking flowery, as if your 18th century self out of the blue found themselves in the modern world.
And that’s all thanks to Kazuha, and his litres of poetry inside your house. What’s outside your house though, is his music. Yea, turns out your spherical friend is talented in tunes too.
On one particular morning when you two were in a public garden, choosing an outlying area to have your picnic in, you came across a eerily wholesome phenomenon.
Holding a tree leaf in his itty-bitty arms, he seemed to be performing a tune with the help of the frond. You stared at your pal in awe, mouth wide open as a beautiful melody rang through your ears.
When your homeboy finished his little concert you couldn’t help but clap gleefully and throw wows at his excellent performance. Just how lucky were you to befriend such a talented jelly orb.
ARGGFDDDDGJSFICGGV IM SORRY FOR BEOMG SOOOO SLOW😭😵😰😓 I’m currently in a middle of a whole makeover of my house so it’s kinda unmotivating for me to do literally anything but no worries, your homegirl will always find a way to deliver🔥🔥🔥🔥
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so likeeee what’s your opinion on freedom fries(soldier x spy)?? imo i love them very very very much and im so starved of any content of them that just seeing them next to each other i go “GAYYYY?????” so i will gladly appreciate any content of them if you don’t mind!!!
ANON YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE HOW HAPPY I AM THAT YOU ASKED THAT; my thoughts on this ship are long as hell so its under the cut but tldr i love them so much
i ADORE freedom fries with my entire heart!!! i think they dynamic between these two is just so hilarious like it would never ever ever work in theory but in practice these two idiots compliment each other's personalities so well. its not even like "book smarts x street smarts" which is what im usually into its like. "complete lunatic x extremely fancy gentleman with 0 patience for idiocy" but somehow soldier slipped through the cracks. theres just something that draws spy to him. im not sure what it is and i dont think spy knows what it is either but he is just so so infatuated with solly
i think that maybe spy has this internal need to "protect" soldier from his own stupidity (man can and will get himself hurt, i mean thats just canon) and i think he'd get really mad and say "dont you ever do that again!!!!" to solly a lot when he does stupid stuff, but solly just smiles in response and spy melts into his arms and everything is okay.
ofc i think solly cares a lot too but hes def a little nervous!! he really doesnt want to screw things up and probably tries to prove that he can be a gentleman every now and then (ending in horrible failure, which then ends with the two laughing and kissing) but usually he is just absolutely himself around spy and spy just adores him and his unpredictability
i actually have a whole tf2 fanfic thats abt 115,000 words long (im a huge writer) where freedom fries takes place for a little bit (but things dont work out since the Spy is a Spy, and soldier and engineer have some history) but i REALLY want to write another fic where they do work out because i essentially only included them in the story becuase i. simply wanted to indulge my love for this ship fskjfs if i ever do any freedom fries drabbles ill post them with art!
PLS PLS PLS if you have any freedom fries ideas or headcanons send them in!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i will very gladly draw them!!!!
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BL3: Moxxi's Heist of the Handsome Jackpot - notes on Timothy + theories
Ok this is more of me just trying to take notes on his character for some future projects in one place ohisafiosfa
1) Timothy's behaviour and appearance
a) Introducing with his name
In Pre-Sequel, Timothy is established to have a face bomb that prevents him from saying his name. When he gets to Roland, he also says his name rhymes with Jimothy.
But in BL3, he just... introduces himself?
"But my name is just Timothy."
During the DLC, he mentions that his face-bomb stops him from escaping the casino.
My best bet is that the face bomb got reprogrammed and can have a limited amount of conditions that might cause it to blow up.
b) Injected with Jack's DNA...or is he
Timothy is the reason why we believe the body doubles (or at least Tim) has Jack's DNA in them, causing them to talk like him.
"Follow this fine ass! Uh, god."
But as we see the body double in BL2, some get voice lines to say to seem Jack. (BTW I really love @kolbasos ' headcanon that Timothy is the only doppelganger that got plastic surgery).
To me, Timothy was onlymade to believe that DNA thing (as DNA shouldn't have behavioral traits in them), just like he was made to believe he was branded with the Vault mark (headcanon taken from @kitkat578 ).
Kit noticed that if Timothy had the same Vault mark as Jack, we would see it through the crack in the mask. Yet it's just not there!! Not a single blue tint anywhere on that skin!
Like, even Customer 1345 has some more resembling of that mark than him. The marks could possibly be just afterdoing when people find out Jack is dead and thus the guy just got the marks which even more makes it weird that we can't see Timothy's mark.
It is plausible that the amnestic anaesthetic mentioned in Pre Sequel tapes is a bit of a key. Timothy might not remember every single operation well enough or might have memories scrapped, so he just has some lies surrounding those moments.
Vault Mark seems like something Jack wouldn't want people to know about - that's why he has the mask, duh. But Timothy knows about it anyway. It's possible that he had some surgery to get the mask hinges on him, and was told he also got the mark just so he would resent Lilith and everybody connected to her.
With the DNA part - I think it's supposed to serve as motivation.
Timothy was shit at acting as Jack in Pre-Sequel. Most people knew he wasn't Jack, he even introduced himself as not-Jack, during Space Slam and most people refer to him as Vault Hunter. It's really rare for him to act as the dude he is paid to act as.
I think this lie was either told to him or he made it up, as he started at some point to say and think like Jack more. Even if he hates it, giving himself an excuse for it could help him get more and more into the role, or he would talk way more often like Jack.
c) Swearing
A thing that seems to be very silly about Borderlands series is its relationship with cursing.
Handsome Jack is a great example of it- he doesn't like some curses. It's why Angel seems to hlt herself sometimes before cursing.
Mr. Torgue has a censor wired to his voicebox due to the shareholders so, maybe Jack wants to keep those happy, too.
Timothy seems to be weirded out to being able to say "asshole" instead of a-hole, when referring to Pretty Boy. It's possibly either a voice modulator censorship or another face bomb thing that just like his name, got reprogrammed to only not letting him out.
He gets so happy he says it two times in a row foahissioa (also off top but his planning skills seem to match Rhys' <3)
2) Moxxi
a) Moxxi seems not to trust Timothy. It may be just due to him working for Handsome Jack for so many years. If there is some other reason though, feel free to tell me :0c
b) Date
Timothy mentions that when Jack got "mega-rich", Jack wanted to win Moxxi back, so Timothy went on a date with her. The issue I have with it, however, is when this date could have taken place.
In Pre-Sequel, when we meet Moxxi for the first time, Timothy says this:
"Holy shi-- hi! I'm uh -- Jack. Obviously. And I need your help. Are you SURE we're not dating? -- Wow!"
Due to his reaction, it feels as if this was really their first meeting. But there are only points in the story where the date could have canonically taken place:
Before Pre-Sequel (I think already after wife's death due to Jack's possible bad behaviour in the break up):
For:
- Jack had just gotten rich enough to try to get Moxxi back.
- Timothy's reaction can be like this due to just the outfit. Moxxi went on the date just due to hunger so she could have dressed more casually (just like in her garage outfit).
- Timothy also at one point asks her to marry him. Iif they already had this date, it would also be an aftereffect to knowing each other better.
Against:
- This dialogue really feels like their first meeting.
- Timothy seems so focused on getting that second date in-game that it feels like it was their last meeting. But it's not a strong point, since it might just be him wanting to get a second date, who knows.
Before BL2:
For:
- Jack got even richer.
- They already knew each other so she would know that the body double she is spending time with is Timothy.
- This moment could potentially strengthen his crush on her after she tried to destroy Jack in Pre-Sequel, esp since this would mean Timothy also would have died
Against:
- Jack doesn't seem like a guy who would want a relationship with someone who tried to kill him ohsoai and he was already getting with Nisha
- Jack has a part in the casino called "Foxxxi's" - which shows just how much he dislikes her.
While before Pre-Sequel makes sense, both options are plausible.
#my ramblings#bl3#borderlands 3#timothy lawrence#ALSO WHY DOES NOBODY TALK ABOUT HOW THE HOLOGRAPHIC JACK IN THE CASINO SEEMS TO BE AI AND NOT RECORDING HELLO????#LIKE IT REACTS TO THE CASINO BEING TURNED OFF#AND THAT WE ARE VAULT HUNTERS#is it just recordings of jack in so many situations#but why would he get himself some losing reactions#damn#borderlands#pre sequel#jack doppelganger#21-c
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can you do a halt x reader x rush (from doors)
:3
*cracks knuckles* a two in one I see. Back to work for me!
Designs for these may take a while, Rush will be quick since yall have seen my design for him multiple times, just not in full color. Halt however is what Im most certain I'll have a time with, so many concepts for them, dress, cape, hood, I cant choose!
This is going to be extra long I know it
Btw, I'll be using they/them for Halt, Theyre both king and queen, best of both things ;] /ref
===========================
Halt x Reader x Rush [headcanons/fic, fluff]
-> alr so honestly, the two are a very balanced duo if you put in theory, but in practice its a 50/50 if it works
-> hype energy bf and calm/no energy partner, pick your poison *you take both*
-> let's get on with how you meet before I forget my ideas
-> you met Rush first, of course you did, he's the first dude you meet unless your unlucky enough to meet Screech or Ambush before Rush can get the first sweep of the place *shudders at Ambush on door 2*
-> you're either really scared of him or thinks he's a mild inconvenience at best, though you'd rather have him charging at you than Ambush any day
-> you once lost the company of another Player to him, left you shook... In fact, that you you got that "Betrayal" badge thats hooked to your keychain.. you dont know how they get there, you didnt even have anything hooked to you when you woke up here, it was just a metal loop attached to your pocket, you're thankful theyre made of felt and embroidery, otherwise Figure would always know where you stood
-> you could kinda consider yourself a veteran here, you've been here before the Hotel got a rework, which threw you off significantly, when you saw the little note on the Lobby letting you and other Player's know of the update you didnt think they changed much
-> though you were surprised when they even had new entities around, took you a moment to get used to the new changes... Rush even more so, you'd often see him faceplant into walls sometimes or accidently knock over things as he ran because he wasnt used to the new changes either
-> it was often endearing to watch from the closet, sometimes he'd even stop for a moment, trying to figure out how to run through a room , thankfully he would be gone before Hide got mad mad at you
-> but comes the day both yours and his luck runs out
-> you saw the lights flicker and speed walked your way to a closet, you waited until you heard him screaming and breaking lights before walking into the closet
-> he got half way through the room before a bookshelf suddenly fell on top of him. You heard the screaming stop, replaced by a loud yell and profanities that made you double take, where you hearing this right?... Could Rush speak? You usually didnt come across other Players on the whim and you were traversing the hotel again alone
-> the voice you heard was glitchy, deep and loud, but hoarse and scratchy at the same time, he is always screaming after all, but how he can still be loud as he is puzzles you, you can even hear a boston accent in his voice
-> you snapped back from your thoughts as you say the bold black and red letters "GET OUT" flashy before your eyes, but you were too late to get your body to move, Hide pushed you out and you fell with a rough thump, the wooden floor wasnt too pleasant to fall on. The carped falling just short enough it wouldn't cushion your fall, you groaned in pain
-> Rush stared at you from his spot, falling silent as you regained your ground, he honestly didnt think there was anyone in the closet- he never does, thats the whole purpose of hiding. Honestly he thought you were quite good looking but nevermind that! He's fuckin' STUCK and he feels HUMILIATED dont look his way please dont witness him please ple- aw fuck you're looking at him, just lovely...
-
You stared down the bigger entity stuck under the book shelf and it's books, trying to understand why he had arms... Pretty strong looking ones too, hands dressed in black gloves. You blinked once, twice, you were clearly confused out of your mind, you came back to reality when you hear a deep groan coming from the entity
"ya got a starin' problem, pipsqueak?? Ya gonna help or what?" He scoffed, you double take'd, did he just call you pipsqueak??
"the fuck did you just call me?" You weren't mad, the situation was just really... Surreal? This place is surreal, thats not the word... Just, strange in general, you never thought you'd get to talk at all with these entities, specially like this
Rush deadpanned "pipsqueak, I called you pipsqueak, ya deaf or somethin'?" You stammered "n- no!- I just- I'm really taken a back right now is all-" you waved your hands as you denied, you slowly walked up to him after a moment of hesitation
"do you... Want- help?" You offered, he looked so offended "n- no! Im completely fine, I can get out by myself thank you very much!" He struggled to pull himself out, that shelf was really heavy what the hell ".... You don't- look fine." You added, a small grin starting to form on your face as you watched the entity barely move from where he was
He sighed dramatically, glaring at you with empty eye sockets "YOU don't look fine." "I'm not, I've been stuck here for months, maybe it's already been a year, I can't tell. Of course I'm not fine." He looked surprised, that was the most painfully honest answer he's heard about your situation, others would either say they're completely fine or just- not engage anymore
He stared at you for an... Uncomfortably long time before you approached him, analyzing the bookshelf over him in search of a way to get him out without having to try and shove it, if even this... Large.... Entity, couldn't raise it himself, what's to think you could? But you're not leaving him there to possibly have him holding grudges against you because you left him there. Rush was still staring at you, waiting for what you would do next
You hummed, placing your hands on your hips as you thought for a moment, "alright, listen, I'll need you to cooperate if you wanna get out of there, 'kay? I'm gonna try to push the shelf up so you'll have less weight on you and you try to pull yourself out." You explained as he nodded, you placed your hands on the edge of the shelf, counting down from three before you used all your strength to push it up even if just a bit
Rush pulled himself out with a bit of struggle, but at least he was out, you dropped the shelf as soon as he took his distance from you and the shelf, it fell with a harsh thump, shaking the ground under you enough you lost your ballance. You yelped and braced for impact with the ground, shutting your eyes, but instead you felt two large hands holding you by your back, they felt... Fuzzy.. like what you'd think static feels like but also not at the same time, warm, it was also warm
You opened your eyes, trailing them up to the entity holding you, you stared into each other's eyes for what felt like hours, before he spoke
"... You are SO tiny, holy shit-" Rush spoke with a laugh slipping through his words, you deadpanned "nah I'm not tiny, you're just fucking huge." You stated, you stared at each other for a bit longer, you taking in the fact the entity that seemed like a giant furball with a smiley face now had one hunk of a body to match, while Rush analysed you curiously, your clothes, your hair, your eyes, little visual details you have about yourself that people wouldnt exactly see if they didnt pay attention.
He had quite the toned figure it seemed, he styled a grey-ish purple button-down with its sleeves rolled up above his elbows and black tie, a dark grey vest with thin, light grey stripes going down the vest and dress pants in the same style- wait when did he get legs- he had a shadowy ghost tail just now- oh fuck it he's an entity beyond your comprehension, of course he can probably shapeshift. Looking back at his face you noted all the little withers and cracks on his face, you wandered if it was always like that or if he go through something to get like that, the shadowy, fluffy looking mass that you normally saw engulfed his entire body seemed to work like hair- or the rest of his head since his face did remind you of a mask of sorts... He had a grin on his face as he looked at you, his eye sockets seemed to distort and move as if they were eyelids, one of the eye sockets seemed to be half-lidded now as the other stayed open, you think he just lifted a brow at you
"take a picture, good-lookin', it'll last longer." His grin widened as you widened your eyes, growing embarrassed as you finally realized you were staring too long, not like he blamed you though, he'd be staring too if he were in your shoes. He chuckled at the red overtaking your cheeks, you looked aside with a small click of your tongue, you both feel silent as it dawned on you that he could just kill you right now, he had you in his hands
"... Are you going to kill me?" You asked in a mutter, his grin fell for a second, he looked at the door ahead of you both before looking back "I kinda owe ya for helpin' me, e~ven though I could've gotten out on my own!" He grinned as you deadpanned, he's that prideful huh, "so let's settle that right now, I let ya live and won't bother ya for... Say... The next 10 rooms?" You thought for a second, a hand on your face, completely forgetting he was still holding you as if in mid dip
".. 20 rooms." You argued "15.", "18, take it or leave it." You grinned, thinking you had the upper hand, but what made you think you could argue like that with a creature that can kill you right now? "15 and final, or would you rather give that up for your life?" He argued with a shit-eating grin on his face, you glared at him, you hated that he was right, you can't just throw away a chance like that, "fine. Deal." You extended a hand for him to shake, you felt one of his hands leave your back and took your hand in his, almost enveloping your entire hand as you shook hands
He pulled you back on your feet and you immediately stepped away from him, putting a decent distance between you, that made him laugh. "Still scared of me, Pipsqueak? I don't bite!... Not for now at least~" he sang, his body envoloped in shadows again as he dashed down the halls again in a matter of seconds, screaming again. You winced, having forgotten how loud he is for a moment, the sudden wind made by him messed up your clothes a bit.
Sighing, you corrected you clothes and walked along the next rooms, which for your "joy", were all dark rooms.... Fuck.
-
-> after that Rush kinda... seemed to linger in the room a few times when he decided to run by, which was annoying if Hide was especially mad at you. It confused you as well, was he looking for something?
-> But for now lets divert our attention to the blue specter youve just had the luck to get yoinked by- like you know how they basically kinda pull you into their corridor and you have to do the back and forth to get out? thats what I mean
-> Halt heard of you from Rush, the couple of times they actually talked at least, Halt is very reserved and it's not often they talk with the more... loud entities, Rush, Figure, Ambush. They don't talk with them a lot due to their liking to silence better, other entities like Seek, Hide, Eyes know them better as they're more quite.
-> However, Halt and Rush bump into each other from time to time and make small talk until Halt decided thats enough socializing for the hour. Rush told them about them a when they bumped into each other again, saying how a "cute lil' player helped him when he got himself stuck under a heavy ass bookshelf", it made Halt curious, especially when Rush would mention you didn't seem all that scared of him
-> Of course he got a description from the bigger entity and soon when on his search, he was far too curious of this... player who put their own 'run' at risk by helping one of them, so for the past month Halt pulled people into their hall more often than not, but not having the luck of finding you until about a month later
-> And to their luck, you were the backwards walk kind of player when they appeared in front of you
-> They analyzed your appearance, and found you were a direct match from what Rush told them, so for once, they stopped their pattern, chasing after you until your back hit the locked door you entered through
-> You grew confused and a bit scared, this wasnt the usual pattern, you couldnt escape, what the hell!
-> You felt a shiver down your spine, the corridor suddenly felt so much colder than before. The ghostly figure loomed over you with their glowing blue eyes staring you down. Suddenly only their eyes filled your vision, similar to how they'd tell you to turn around before the hotel got it's renovation, making you flinch and blink hard
-> Next thing you knew, a tall, slender figure was in front of you, so all of the entities can have a humanoid body? Not the time to question that now, what the fuck is going on
-> The figure wore a long dark blue-ish cloak, it was slightly torn on the edges(probably because of time, you'd guess) and had a shiny 4 pointed, light blue star pendent keeping it together near the hood. The cloak obscured the rest of its body, and the gloominess of the room didn't help in the slightest, you could see it wore black boots though; It's face was covered by a veil like fabric, similar to how Halt looked earlier, it's bright blue eyes staring dead into your soul, it intimidated you, especially with how close it was
-> You tried to keep yourself from showing fear, though you struggled to do so, this situation was really weird, they cornered you right at the start of the hall and arent moving away, just staring you down
-> Your heart threatened to jump out of your chest with how it was beating, you really wanted to stop staring at them, avert your eyes and brace for the worse but something kept you from it, giving you only moments to glance away in discomfort, you heard a reverberated hum before it turned around
-> "Rush was right." They mumbled lowly, before walking away and disappearing into the floor, the aura in the room dimmed, meaning they werent there anymore as you finally let out a breath you didnt know you were holding. Seriously what the fuck was that??? Whatever, you can think about that later, right now just focus on running out of this claustrophobic ass hall
→ After that weird encounter you felt like Halt would always show up in almost every run you had, and more than once. Eventually you grew fed up, what was their deal? Did they need something?
→ So the next time he pulled you into their corridor, you stood your ground and asked what they wanted in an annoyed tone. Surprising to say it took Halt off guard that you decided to confront them instead of running away
→ So they stood in place, not getting closer nor teleporting behind you, and its whatever if they kill you now, this run was a very unlucky one regardless...
-
"Okay, what's your deal, man? What do you want, either Im going insane or you're tormenting me far more often than usual." You complained, crossing your arms as you glared at the veiled entity in front of you, they stood, unmoving aside the light floating of their clothes from the chilly wind that somehow flowed through the closed hall
You raised a brow as their eyes seemed to move ever so slightly, seeming to scan your face for anything, perhaps were they trying to feel even a twinge of fear from you? Even if they did it would be overly covered by annoyance and frustration, their hall is very annoying to get through
They lowered their head a bit to look at the ground momentarily as they thought about how to articulate an answer, soon enough, they came up with something to say
"you are... Interesting... You helped one of my comrades when he was in distress... You confuse me..." They spoke, their voice echoing through the hall, it was breathy and soft, and quite monotone too. Hearing them surprised you a bit
"... Could you elaborate?" Your expression softened from the sneer you held before, they looked aside a bit again before looking back at you, staring dead into your eyes as if they tried to get a look into your soul
"no humans help us, none of them ever have, if one of us ends up getting stuck they either mock, run away or just stare in confusion... But you, you were kind— or pitiful —enough to help Rush from under the heavy bookshelf... That confuses me..." He paused briefly, raising his hand to snap his clawed fingers, surprisingly they weren't as sharp as the ones Rush has "Rush could snap you in half faster than I can snap my fingers... Why did you decide to help him?"
You were stunned at their words for a moment, standing still as you mind processed what they said before you unsurely shrug as you shook you head lightly "cause and consequence I guess? I mean, I'd be mad if someone mocked me while I was stuck under a bookshelf too, and given how... Murderous... He is- I didn't want to get an extra painful death because he'd be in a bad mood afterwards..." You rambled, gripping your arms as you did
Halt listened intently, nodding as you finished talking, you heard a hum coming from them as they glided closer, at least you figured they glided as you only heard a wind whistle instead of footsteps, but when you looked back up they were inches from your face, you nearly jumped in a scare, letting you a choked yelp as you stepped back for some distance
"May you answer some more questions? Curiosity is eating at me, I promise to let you leave unharmed afterwards." They said, not moving from their spot in mid air, they didn't seem to like moving too much. You nodded after a moment of hesitation "but.. how can I really trust you?"
"Im an entity of word. Besides, are you really willing to let this opportunity to learn more about this place go? I know you humans are oh-so curious about this facility." They tilted their head at you, you took a moment before nodding, they were right after all, again, not everyday you get to talk to an entity like this.
And so you both sat down.
-
→ You two talked for a long while, last time you check the clock outside the hall it was at least 3pm. It sure felt like an eternity inside the hall, and eventually you both drifted from the initial questions to other topics, like how the other entities acted, or things you remember about your own life, and even some gossip that had you both giggling and laughing
→ Just don't tell anyone you got this info from Halt, if anyone asks, you know nothing ;]
→ After a while, Halt grew tired sounding and quiet, letting you do most of the talking until you caught onto the fact they were tired now. You suggested you wrap up the night, but said you really enjoyed talking with them
→ They seemed to hum happily as you got up from your spots, saying the same to you and leading you to the end of the corridor. You felt a cold hand on your shoulder before you left, a reminder of your new found friend as you shivered at the sudden warm air hitting you cold form, you grew used to Halts cold room to the point where the normal air from the hotel nearly felt like a punch to the face
→ And so that was your routine fron then on, watch from a closet as Rush lingered around the room whenever he came by, talk to Half for a couple of hours and then move on with your run
→ Eventually, Rush lingered a little bit too long, and Hide was especially impatient tonight so you can guess what happened. You got shoved out as Rush was still looking around the room
→ You yelled as you were shoved out, but before you hit the floor you felt those familiar hands grab your shirt and lift you up, and in a matter of seconds, you were face to face with the Static creature again. Your eyes widen as he glared at you with empty eyes and a grin before realizing it was you
-> "Pipsqueak! It's you! I've been lookin' for ya!" He said with a laugh, placing you down and patting your shoulder, you couldn't even process when his body shifted to it's humanoid form, just taking a moment to absorb the situation
-> But Rush kept talking. "I really wanted to meet with ya again, Halt said y'all met?" He questioned, tugging you along as he walked to the next room, as he knew the next room at least had a couch you two could sit at
-> You stammered as confirmation, almost tripping over your feet as you walked with him. He let go of you as you got to the couch and dropped himself on one side of it, it creaked under his weight as he crossed his legs, patting the spot next to him after you were left standing for a few moments more
-> You sat down awkwardly as the entity next to you occupied a lot of the couch, what being 8 feet tall does to a motherfucker, anyway. He didn't seem to mind how you were still processing what was going on, and still asked you a lot of things, which you reluctantly answered because... Did you really have a choice on the matter? Though you did notice he gave off a warmth as you sat close to him
-> After a while you did ease into the conversation, which seemed to please him. He joked and told you funny stories about things he's done, be it with other players or other entities. It made him laugh as he told you the stories, you laughed along, his laugh was quite the contagious one
-> Once he seemed to run out of stories to tell you, you spoke up. "Why.. are you telling me this? And why were you looking for me?"
-> "Huh?-" he looked down at you for a moment, before processing your questions properly "Oh! Well, Halt mentioned how they were talkin' to you so often and how you were so nice to talk to n' blah blah blah. So I wanted to hear it for myself, and they were right! You are real nice t' talk to."
-> You blinked "they talk about me?" Rush jerked his head aside "eeeh not really??.. just when I bump into them at least, I usually ask how yer doin' given I can never find ya 'round." He dismissed quickly, you almost saw a darker shade of grey on his withered face. You'll never know he lied a bit, Halt mentioned you've been chatting often, but they didn't really share much of how you behaved, he'd never admit it but he felt a little bit jealous that Halt got to talk to you more than he did, he met and saw you first! He wants to talk to you too!! Why do you think he's been searching for you?
-> "A~nyway... I did like talkin' to ya, even if I did most of the talkin', I get I can be a lil' too fast for people to catch up with." He scratched the back of his head, you couldn't help but giggle a tiny bit "it was nice to chat with you too, Rush."
-> He said you should talk more, and you said sure, as long as he doesn't kill you if he comes running in, that made he laugh as he agreed
-> So, new routine again, talk with Rush as you two walk through the rooms a bit and then talk with Halt for a few hours, wether you get to the final elevator didnt really matter as much anymore
-> Eventually you finally got the two in the same room, Halt finally decided to come out of his corridor for once because you wanted to show him a cool plant in the Greenhouse
-> And oh what a coincidence! It was a room Rush was running to! What a silly coincidence!! He totally didn't bribe Screech to spy on you both and Halt was getting a little too close nope not at all :]]]]
-
You shined your flashlight at the Peace Lily that was blooming in one of the pots
"It's so cool that it grew in these conditions!" You gushed at the flower, Halt hummed, "certainly, I haven't seen a flower grow in a long while..." Their voice echoed around the room "I used to love these... It's also quite ironic a Peace Lily is growing here of all places"
You chuckled "yep, peace is not something to happen here, at least not to often..-" you got cut off by the sound of a particularly strong gush of wind hitting against the window and making it shake in its hinges, it startled you for a moment as you shivered at the remnants of a breeze managed to slip through the small gaps in the frame
"hmm... Seems like the storm is picking up, that hasn't happened in a while..." They turned their attention to the window before looking down at you, it took them a moment to realize you were cold before they fumbled with the broche on their cloak, they couldn't feel any more cold than they already were so its a bit hard to tell change in temperature
"oh forgive me, I didn't know it was cold, here-" they enveloped you in their large coat before you could say anything, you expected it to be cold just like they are, but you were quickly proven wrong as warmth took over your body, the quick change in temperature made you hair stand
"o-oh!- th-thanks-" you stuttered, noticing that Halt wore a pearly white, ruffled shirt with a cyan vest over it and a black puffy ascot around their neck, it seemed like many of the entities sported the same style of clothing, suits or vests... Was it a dress code they went by?
"it is no problem-" this time, Halt was interrupted by the loud static noise of Rush zooming near, Halt stared at the door you came through and immediately pulled you behind them, for whatever reason, they knew you talked to Rush already, why did they pull you back?
As soon as Rush entered the room and saw Halt, he stopped and took his usual humanoid form
"Oh! Halt! Buddy there you are! You dont usually leave your hall what's got ya all the way over here?-" he questioned, though his tone sounded a bit fake, like he already knew why Halt was here
Halt took a moment before responding, mumbling a hello as they slightly lowered their head, why did they seem so... Apprehensive? Annoyed maybe? It's hard to read this guy. Rush finally saw you and made a gesture by opening his arms
"Pipsqueak! There you are! What'cha doin' here with Halt? Y'all doin' anythin' fun?" He pried, and finally noticed you had Halt's cloak "... And uh, why do ya have their cloak?" His tone sounded a bit more strained now, his usual casual grin seemed a bit more forced
"I-" you started, unsure of what to say before Halt cut you off "they were cold, so I lended them my cloak. I may be one of the coldest entities here but my cloak is quite the blanket." They stated, staring up at Rush
"oh really? Well if they're cold they could've come look for me! Some say I'm quite the heat pack, y'know?" The taller entity laughed, his voice booming around the room "Plus, ya know very well these rooms aren't the safest." His voice fell serious, though still with a playful undertone, you grew confused, the fuck was this interaction
Halt scoffed "I am aware, Rush. However, they wanted to show me this lovely flower, I couldn't say No to such an interesting offer." They gestured to the Lily near you both "It's been a while since I've seen an actual flower, after all, the other only living plant here is...." Halt gently moved your hand to shine your flashlight at the snare on the floor, waiting for its next victim to trap
Rush was silent for a couple moment after looking at the snare, he turned himself to the Lily again, humming in thought "Well... that is a pretty nice flower.... the hell has he been doin'?..." he mumbled, shaking his head as he turned back to the conversation
"Nevermind that! C'mon, Pipsqueak, let's get outta here before ya get yourself hurt. An' Halt uuh... ya-.. ya can go back to ya room, I guess, ya never stay out for long anyway..." Rush mumbled, walking around Halt and put a hand on your back, leading you with him to the previous door slowly to keep up with you. But for some reason, the room felt colder than before, you shivered in discomfort, Halt heard it.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Halt questioned, their voice sounding stronger and passive-aggressive "Do speak your mind, Rush, you were never one to hold you thoughts to yourself anyway." they tilted their head at Rush as the room grew colder with every word, you felt Rush start to tense as you looked back at the ghostly entity
"OOOOkay!-" Rush laughed, you could hear a hit of forcefulness on his voice as he turned to Halt, putting his hands on his hips as he cackled "THOSE are some fightin' words, Buddy. Ya REALLY wanna go down that path?" He looked down at Halt, still being taller than them by a foot
"You started it, but If The Boot Fits I don't mind an altercation." You shuddered at Halt's tone, and at the cold getting so much worse that the windows have started to frost, you could see a small confused looking face staring from the other side, Sally was here
You got between the two, pushing them apart was they were glaring at each other "ENOUGH you both! There's someone else here, and Halt- you're fr-freezing the room." you shivered as you looked up at Halt and motioned at the half frosted window, the two looked over at the window and Sally quickly hid away from view with a small, echo-y gasp
Halt looked away to take some deep breaths and calm down, as Rush walked over to the window to talk to Sally a bit, it sounded like a bit of a lecture but you didn't care to process what he was blabbing about, focusing more on Halt and gently patting their arm to help, they looked back at you
"My apologies for my behavior.... I did not- mean to grow so upset..." they gently put their hand over yours on their arm, you shook your head "it's okay, you don't have to apologize, I'd be mad too. Just because you like being by yourself doesn't mean they get to just dismiss you like that." Their eyes seemed to soften their glow as you spoke, they hummed "usually I don't mind, I enjoy being given the assurance that I can leave if I wish to, but... this was just insulting..."
You nodded, they turned to you after a moment of silence, this time now holding both your hands, which caught you a bit by surprise
"[Name]... I know this may not be an appropriate place for such a thing, but I can no longer keep this to myself. It has been a delight to interact with you when you come around, I treasure every second we spend together and you're simply just..... an amazing person to be around, you bring me a warmth I've never had or felt before.... I was... wondering if....." they seemed to struggle a bit, which was odd since they always spoke so flawlessly, though you didn't mind it one bit. If this monologue was going in the direction you think it is then interrupting isn't an option
"my apologies, words are hard at the moment-" they mumbled "ah.... if-... you'd like to... be my partner...?" their eyes shifted, looking nervous and worried for your reaction as their hands got colder against yours
You were stunned for a moment, blinking dumbfoundedly, attempting to stammer some reply out but to no avail
Then Rush put an arm around you
"HEYYYY WHAT YALL TALKIN' ABOUT OVER HERE??" He loudly questioned, pulling you closer to his side, Halt seemed to deadpan at him, huffing annoyedly "Rush, you are ruining our moment."
"Moment? What moment?" Rush feigned cluelessness, then pulled you away from Halt, talking about how you had to get out of the greenhouse because it wasnt safe, or something, you didnt really listen as you looked over his arm at Halt, they seemed to still be holding their hands in the same position they were when holding yours but slightly reaching outat you
You mouthed a sorry back at him as Rush got you out the door.
-
→ good lord I got carried away, anyway
→ after that Rush seemed to always find you before you even managed to get in a closet, well, not find you but run into the room before you could get in
-> Hide mightve had a hand in it but you dont know that, they just want Rush to stop bugging them about it
-> Rush would tackle you to the floor and pretend hewas gonna bite you, then he'd laugh a bit before pulling you back to your feet, much to your annoyance he keeps on teasing you about being a little flinchy around him
-> He cant blame you though! He's killed you before when you first got here and he's unpredictable
-> But now you get to be the listener in a conversation again so thats something, he talks non stop, excited to talk to you
-> He drags you around to find a comfy place to sit down and chat while he talks. He constantly moves, some times after sitting on the couch for too long he gets up and paces around while he talks, sometimes sits on the ground in front or next to you.
-> Though his topics are interesting to talk about sometimes you end up even falling asleep while he talks
-> Another thing is that ever since that day, he's taken so much of your time and energy you havent gotten to talk to Halt at all, until they came to you after you and Rush were done talking
-> you shuddered as that familiar cold embraced your form again, smiling a bit at the quiet in the hallway, taking a few steps away from the door as Halt showed up.
-> you greeted them, and though they didnt respond, you explained how Rush was talking to you so often, how draining it was by the end of your conversations. You looked tired, they could tell
-> they didnt say a word as they hovered to you and wrapped their arms around you along with their cloak, you were surprised but melted into their cold form, wrapping your own arms around them
-> they guided you to the usual spot you two would sit down at, without letting you go, you leaned your head against their shoulder with a sigh as they held you with an arm, holding one of your hands with the other
-> You were dozing off, closing your eyes as you curled up to their side, you felt them adjust their cloak around you again
-> You heard a whisper from them, sounded like something along the lines of "I love you"? You werent sure, you could've misheard it, the memories of that night at the greenhouse came back briefly, you hummed softly as you snuggled to them, gently squeezing their hand mumbling the same back to them as you fell asleep
-> Next time you saw Rush, he was actually not running this time, standing in the middle of one of the rooms with Halt, they seemed to be arguing about something. The room was cold
-> You shivered as you walked in, Halt noticed you first and greeted you with a nod before Rush greeted you by saying your name happily, you waved
-> Rush requested you put an end to their argument and choose for them, which one is better in terms of their work
-> And well, given theyre both the easiest to avoid, Rush is deadlier with his strenght and Speed but Halt is harmful for his confusing rules that makes Players have to turn around and walk back and forth until theyre out of the hall. Your answer was that theyre both the best in their own different ways
-> They seemed satified enough, Halt more than Rush, though Rush got another idea and smirked, asking you who you liked better
-> That confused and flustered you, you stammered, claiming not knowing what he meant. So he repeated in better detail, who you like better to hang out
-> Of course you said both are nice to hang out with in their own ways, but that didnt satisfy Rush, he just kept pushing even as Halt attempted to stop him from doing so
-
"So? I'm still waitin' for an answer!" Rush crossed his arms with a smirk on his face "Rush, that's enough, dont you think?" Halt questioned
"No! I want a definate answer from them. Who do you like best??" It got to the point you didnt know how to answer anymore, you gave them your true answer what else does he want?
"Why are does it matter so much? I gave you the only answer I have" you shrugged "Because we're in love with you and you gotta choose onna us, wasn't it obvious?" Rush stated calmly
The way he said it so calmly, as if it was obvious information gave you a hard whiplash, your face flushing red as Halt smacked the back of Rush's head harshly
"Way to blow it, Rush. They'll hate us now!" For once, Halt raised their voice, even if slightly, the two began to argue again "Naw they won't! Plus, you already confessed that day at the Greenhouse and they don't seem to hate you for it!"
You tuned them out as you thought about what he just said, you've been catching feeling for them for a while, the two were charming in their own ways, it would be hard to choose one of them, but guess what! You have Two Hands!
-
-> And thats what you told them, they were stunned for a moment, a deeper shade of grey floded Rush's cheeks while Halt seemed to glow brighter
-> they agreed to your offer, so you were now officially a polyamory couple
-> they did tell you the dangers of the entity the other players named Jack, and that he's not to know youre dating them
-> theyre both lovely and attentive to you, and incredible cuddlers too, Rush is very warm to cuddle with on colder nights and Halt is lovely to cuddle on hotter nights
-> Rush takes you on rides around the hotel sometimes on his back, and Halt shows you the quiet spots he hangs out on if he needs to detress
-> They still argue a bunch and youre usually the mediator, until the argument's with you-
-> They love you very much, they couldnt be happier every since you agreed to be theirs
===========================
FUCK THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO WRITE THIS, life got in the way and hyperfixations changed, but I really want to get back to writing and now that this is done, I can write other things in my inbox.
Never ask me to do duos again before Ive done their intro fics lmao /hj/lh
I did enjoy writing this though dw
#doors roblox#anon#roblox doors#rush doors#doors x reader#halt doors#doors halt#doors rush#rush x reader#halt x reader#fic/hc
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Kaneki for the character ask? 👉👈
My first impression: the reason i got into tg as much as i did. before i watched i hadnt watched a whole series since i watched death note bc i couldn't find a main character that was as interesting to me as light...and then i found KANEKI
My impression now: i still love him, especially once i read the manga. similar to how i was w death note, i haven't been able to get through another series since tg bc i can't find another mc that interests me as much as kaneki or light. he's so cool and fucked up what a silly guy
Favorite thing about that character: i love when they're insane (pt 400049589208520). i also feel like aggravatingly similar to him sometimes so that's always fun. analyzing him is like analyzing myself
Least favorite thing: analyzing him is like analyzing myself. also anime kaneki is...not as badass as manga kaneki lets leave it at that...
Favorite line/scene: where do i even start...ig this is more of a haise moment but it's also a kaneki moment lowkey at the beginning of re when he's going against nishio and haise is like losing his shit and brain kaneki is whispering in his ear yeah that was so cool and sent chills down me idk. also when he broke half of ayato's bones what a sick lil dude i love it
Favorite interaction that character has with another: back to the beginning of re when haise kinda switches into the kaneki personality when he's going against nishio and he says "i don't think you want to know me" and does the finger crack ooooh lemme tell you i was kicking my feet in bed at 4am watching that bc first i was like ohh its kaneki (as we know the anime doesn't explain shit) and then i was like if i was nishio i would run away bc that was so scary ooooh i love it
A character that I wish that character would interact with more: i think we needed more kaneki and hide interactions like i know we got a decent amount but like. there should have been more.
Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character: im so bad at this ummm mello from death note bc the world beats them down and tells them theyre not good enough throughout their childhoods, so they grow up with this idea that they're always inferior and it eventually turns into rage but also a deep incurable loneliness. and if you go with the theory that kaneki actually died and was not saved by ayato at the end of the series (which i enjoy bc i love pain and suffering), then they both die alone unable to protect those they care for or fulfill what they think they're life's purpose is okay im gonna go cry now
A headcanon about that character: he definitely wrote fanfiction in middle school are we kidding
A song that reminds of that character: class of 2013 by mitski
An unpopular opinion about that character: did he really deserve a happy ending? he did a lot of bad things, mass murder, cannibalism, destroyed lives and families...but maybe i just love pain and suffering...i do want to see him happy too but i just.
Favorite picture:
this was so hard because ishida's art is beautiful, but this had to be it. this kinda encompasses everything i love about ishida's art - the portrayal of emotion, the use of ink heavy pages to show tension and conflict, the despair, like its just so good
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Autism Headcanons
I really like headcanoning characters as autistic, because often autistic people written by nt people are stereotypes (with the exception of Sherlock holmes) so seeing characters who unintentionally relatable to autistics is so important! I have a lot of reasons why I hc Walt Strickler and Newt Scamander as autistic, but maybe I'm just projecting. But look at the concepts! (Some of these may be Canon. Shh let me infodump)
Edward (Edward Scissorhands): Isolated man-made sweetheart with scissors for hands who is incredibly gentle but doesn't understand Society™️. He moves robotically, is mainly nonverbal, doesnt understand common social rules, such as the "if you found a briefcase full of money, what would you do?" Since Autistic people like me need very good reasons to follow rules, and Edward doesnt understand how giving your loved ones found money is "wrong". He uses his "disability" to channel his creativity in his gardening, hedge-trimming, and haircutting. But he was willing to give it all up just to fit in! I have seen many emotional movies, but this is truly the only one thst made me sob out loud, because of how much i could relate. Hes ME. also Tim Burton himself is at least speculated to be on the spectrum, and many see the movie as a whole as an allegory for autism. This doesnt mean that i believe the scissors THEMSELVES are a symbol for autism, because even if edward didnt have them he still exhibits very autistic traits.
Sherlock Holmes: genius detective who's neutral good, physically fights pedos, drinks respect women juice, gay-asexual, and does Crack in his spare time. At the time, nobody knew what autism was! But sherlock is so clearly autism-coded its hard to ignore. Im talking about every adaptation Ever. My first exposure to Sherlock Holmes was the BBC series (granted, i know its not necessarily the most well-written adaptation, but listen) and i was SHOOK at how autistic he was. Even in the novels hes percieved as keeping his things cluttered, but he has a purpose in his clutter, and organizes his thoughts. He goes off on tangents before going back to his original point. Basil of Baker Street, basically Sherlock Holmes in Disneys the Great Mouse Detective, VISIBLY STIMS ONSCREEN. anyway nobody needed convincing on that one but yeah.
Newt Scamander (Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them): kind, soft wizard who keeps magical creatures in a briefcase. He's soft-spoken, drops eye-content mid conversation, and PURSUES A LIFE OF CONSERVING MAGICAL CREATURES. HES THE ONLY ONE OF HIS PROFESSION IN THE WORLD. ITS ALL RIGHT THERE.
Fiver (Watership Down): a runty, anxious rabbit with the power of prophecy. the theory of Fiver being autistic isnt originally mine (look through my reblogs) but i fully accept it. Now, its debatable whether autism is a Thing among animals or if it presents itself another way, but then again this is fiction. Where to begin with Fiver? Hes based off the Greek Myth of Cassandra, who was blessed with divination but cursed to never be believed. Growing Up With Autism. I cant explain it but you Autistic readers will understand. And simply look at his character!
Erik Destler (the Phantom of the Opera, Phantom): disfigured savant, expert illusionist, lives in the basement of an opera house. In Phantom by Susan Kay he's portrayed as a savant, and while not all savants are born that way, one out of ten autistics are also autistic savant. His hyperfixation on the macabre, his immense creative drive, its all there knock yourselves out.
Walt Strickler: a devious shapeshifting idiot with genius energy, who drops sick dad jokes, huge history nerd, a minority in his own country while at the same time belonging to no country. This might be just me projecting but I thought it was genius. There's also the widely accepted history theory that the Changeling Myth was based off early perceptions of Autism, and whether this suggests that all the Changelings in ToA are autistic is, I believe, false, since in Trollhunters, changelings are made, but autists are Born, not Made. But Strickler is by far my favorite to fixate on! He's such a good concept as an autistic character because he doesn't fall into the stereotypes that intentionally-written autists do. He's sassy, sarcastic, and is simply UNBEARABLE with puns. I view his Villainous Actions™️ of clicking the pen and sitting on tables as stimming or autistic habits, and his odd collection of books. Despite him not being human himself, he has a WILD fascination with human history and culture, which is a better hyperfixation for an autistic character than He Likes Trains and Math. Strickler also has the general Vibe of someone who's constantly holding back from going completely Feral and Rabid. Absolute autism energy
Wow sorry for the dump. Maybe I'm just desperate for real representation ahaha. I'll make an ADHD list soon, with the help of my ADHD expert friend, so if any are missing here, they may be there
#Autism#Autism headcanons#Edward Scissorhands#Sherlock Holmes#Newt Scamander#Fiver#Hrairoo#Watership Down#Walter Strickler#Trollhunters#Let me know if I missed any#Erik Destler#The Phantom of the Opera#Susan Kay
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what is manipulation if not charm with purpose?
Pairing: The Brucolac x Uther Doul
Word Count: 4,000
Warnings: light blood play, reference to past sexual relations, swearing, reference to injury
Rating: Mature
Here we go, lads.
Uther Doul x The Brucolac fan fiction. Set soon after the events of The Scar. Essentially my interpretation of what happened when Uther Doul went to visit the Brucolac, from the Brucolac's perspective.
Its NSFW because I don't want you to get in trouble for reading fan fiction on company time <3 I care about you, and want you to be safe. Also there is light blood play and stuff, so there is that as well.
This kinda follows my Good! Doul headcanon post, a very different Doul from who we see in the novel. As outlined below...
He was outside again.
The Brucolac looked down at him, the man only faintly illuminated by the light from the masts of the Uroc. He always came when the saint’s fire burned. He wanted to be seen. From this angle, through the window of the Brucolac’s office, he looked small. He could be overlooked as just a fleck of dirt on the outer pane of glass. Just a pale speck amidst the endless black night and the void of the sea.
There was a faint knock on the door, and one of his lieutenants entered.
‘Sir, Uther Doul is here to see you again’
The Brucolac sighed and covered his mouth with his hand.
This was the seventh night in a row. It had rained for the first two. As the city reversed and moved north, it had been steadily getting colder. Citizens had dug out their thicker coats and boots, so recently stowed away. Doul had stood resolutely, only fading away into the dark when the pale fire retreated.
What is this, Uther? He thought, This new dance of yours?
Since they had turned away from the Scar, everything had felt unfinished. Public feeling was complex and incommunicable. Regret mixed with relief, rage intermingled with humility. There had been many relocations between the ridings. Those from Garwater, who felt they simply could not trust the Last Remaining Lover, came to Dry Fall to show their support for the failed coup. Those who were bitter about the wasted time and material on a project that they never got to see to completion, took up residence in Garwater. Even in the ridings that had taken no visible action, there was unrest just bubbling under the surface, waiting to pop.
‘Send him in’
‘Sir...are you sure?’ The lieutenant shifted uncomfortably, ‘Would...would you like a guard accompanying you?’
It took a lot of nerve to ask. The Brucolac could respect that, and could see its kindness, but still. He wanted to claw his eyes out. He wanted to scream, ‘I’m the fucking Brucolac, I am not afraid of anything, and I am certainly not afraid of Uther fucking Doul’, but his hands were shaking. They were aged, cracked and cragged like parched desert soil.
The past few weeks, the mask had slipped.
The Brucolac fixed him with a harsh glare, and he left the room.
It had been almost a month since the mutiny.
Like dropping a hefty stone into water, it had vanished from sight, but the ripples still rang out. They rang so loud in The Brucolac’s head. He had, of course, thought deeply about the ramifications of his actions beforehand. He had contemplated the effect it would have, not just on him, but his citizens. The citizens of wider Armada too. He had concluded that, whatever the actual outcome, he could not stand by and let this play out. It was worth the risk, for Armada, for his home, for the greater good. He hoped that, should he be wrong in his judgement, that history remembered him as a considerate fool, instead of a coward, or a sadist, who went along with such a plan.
He had expected punishment, if unsuccessful. He had accepted loss of his standing, loss of respect, pain, torture, and even, his final, true death.
He hadn’t expected the cross.
Every second, pain intolerable. For days, his skin blistered and burst, the salt from the pus stinging his wounds as it dripped from him. He screamed incessantly, until the sun had burnt even the back of his throat. The light of the moon had licked his wounds some, but it only served to make them more tender to the sun’s onslaught the next dawn. He had tried to fight till the last, still hurling insults to any of the Garwater elites he saw, but by the third day of unremitting torment, he longed for death. He would call out to the citizens who came by, and beg them to decapitate him, to kill him outright, but they would hurry away, embarrassed by his cachexia, his pathetic pleading.
He was under no illusion, it was the Lovers’ decision, but it had been Doul who had brought him to that cross.
He had exploited The Brucolac’s weakness to land that first, and incapacitating blow. The Brucolac’s weakness for him. How, whatever else was going on, he did not want to hurt him, not really. He had been so sure that Doul had felt the same; that when it really came down to it, he would take his side. It made him feel disgusted with himself, just how much care and gentleness he had shown this mortal man, this quick.
You let this man play you like a child with his toy soldiers.
Doul did not knock, just the light click of the door’s handle sliding back into place told The Brucolac that he was there.
He considered not turning around, he didn’t want to give him the dignity of his full attention. He didn’t want to look at him. The ghost of him, reflected in the window pane, his incorporeal frame filling his view, was enough to make his stomach turn.
And his smell.
All vampir are equally cursed and blessed with preternatural senses. They can taste emotions. Smell intent. They had the ability to feel minor changes in the air that told them of the weather turning, to hear a pin drop through several brick walls. It helped them to hunt and hide and entrance.
Uther Doul smelt of fresh sweat, and the vanillin of old books, and well-cared for leather, as well as charisma, and focus, and discipline. But, this night, there was an obsequious taste emanating from his skin. Something wheedling and simpering that was never there before.
He was repulsive to the Brucolac now.
‘Deadman Brucolac’, His voice, lyrical and as clear as the dawn, burned him.
‘Uther.’
The Brucolac turned and stood before the other man.
Doul took the briefest intake of breath, and he could taste a sudden note of shock seep from his former friend’s skin, before it was replaced by that fawning sweetness that set his teeth on edge.
For several days and nights after he was cut down, The Brucolac had to be fed by his lieutenants. Like an invalid, one would prop up his shoulders, while another brought the blood filled vials to his lips. They would wash him and change him when he soiled himself, and, mercifully, leave him to weep alone, from his raw, sightless eyes.
His wounds would have killed a mortal man. Even with all of his power, he was still marked and aching across his body. His burns still wept. His joints groaned under new duress. His eyesight, so vivid and clear before, was blurred, out of focus. Unreal shapes clouded his vision. He woke at nightfall from fretful dreams, carefully moved his stiff limbs to dress and limped around the Uroc. He couldn’t bare to be seen by any of his citizens. Topical application of blood helped. It soothed his wounds like a healing balm. He would massage it into his joints when they ached, into his temple to soothe his stabbing headaches.
The Brucolac looked wounded.
‘Shocked at my appearance, Uther?’ he sneered, ‘Do you find it distasteful?’
Uther said nothing. His face he kept unreadable.
The Brucolac sighed, ‘Why are you here, Uther?’
Uther opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He swallowed, loud enough for the Brucolac to hear, then started again, ‘There is nothing that I can say that will do justice to the betrayal that you must feel.’
‘The betrayal I must feel’ thought the Brucolac, Not ‘the betrayal that was done to me’, just ‘the betrayal I must feel’. Fuck off, Uther
Uther’s hands were clasped behind his body, in a soldier’s stance
‘But I wanted to apologise. To you. Fully, for my actions.’
The Brucolac couldn’t even describe Doul as traitorous. He had side stepped any request for assurances or promise, as deliberately and deftly as an acrobat. He never admitted to or conspired to do anything. He had just stood there, in his stony-faced persona, and let the Brucolac do the work.
They had been friends once.
Lovers, for a while.
Now, looking at him made him nauseous.
‘I wish...I wish that things could have been different. I wish it hadn’t come to this.’ his voice, like an incantation, ‘I have always cared for you deeply.’
The Brucolac noticed the faintest softness around Doul’s eyes. As if remembering a dream, the Brucolac recalled the other beautiful things he used to say to him with stunning, vivid clarity.
He had always known that his old friend was capable of deft manipulations. Before, when Doul had been more than the craven image standing before him, he would steer conversations to where he needed it to go with the skill of a practised helmsman. He had seen him seduce men and women with his handsome face and his intoxicating blend of confidence and awkwardness. He was disarming in more ways than one. His charm, his ability to make you feel as though you, and only you, were allowed to glimpse behind the mask, would make anyone weak to him.
And what is manipulation if not charm with purpose?
The Brucolac never thought it would happen to him. He now realised, with a churn of his stomach, that neither did any of his other marks.
‘I know that this will probably mean little to you, and I will answer any questions that you ask of me, completely. Honestly.’ his voice earnest, ‘But please believe me what I say I did what I had to. To save Armada.’
The Uroc was a quiet ship. Even from this, the top, floor, the whispered lapping of the water on the hull filled the room.
Uther Doul stepped towards him, stealthy and placating, a lion tamer approaching its charge.
‘You were right you know. I didn’t agree with the Lovers’ plans. It was a succession of stupid, dangerous ideas... which I felt responsible for, for giving them the damned ideas in the first place.’
‘Before, I had dreamed that I could use my knowledge, my research, to help bring Armada into a new golden age. I wanted to give that to the city. But I only had ideas, half baked plans. When I read about the Scar, about the power we could harness once we got there, I was too excited by what I had found. I shouldn’t have let them be known without doing more research, without thinking of the ramifications of my actions. I didn’t realise how far it would go’
Uther was just a pace away from The Brucolac. The scent of his pleading, like damp soil mixed with stringent lemon, swirled around the room. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing the base of his neck, as if he had been caught half way through dressing. His cropped hair was unkempt. The Brucolac noticed, with shock, that he was unarmed. He held himself as if the weight of the possible sword still hung at his hip.
‘It was only after that it became clear to me. From my application of possibility science…’
‘I couldn’t give a whore’s fuck about possibility science’ The Brucolac growled
Uther let the rest of the sentence die in his throat.
‘What I am trying to say is, I did what I had to, Deadman.’ he looked at his hands
‘I am sorry that it came to that. If I could have changed anything at all, I would have not allowed you to be...treated that way.’
He won’t even say it, seethed the Brucolac, he won’t even admit what was done to me, accept his part in all of this
Doul’s eyes met his, ‘I’m sorry that I hurt you’
‘You humiliated me, Uther!’ The Brucolac roared, his whole body buckling with fury.
He seethed from the force of his yell.‘I don’t care that you were thinking of the city. I don’t care about your master plan.’
One solitary sob broke past his lips, ‘I wanted you to care about me’
‘I know you never…’ he tensed his jaw, readjusted himself, started again, ‘You would come to me, and confide in me, and kiss me, and fuck me, and I know, I have always known, that it meant more to me than you. I always knew I was an ersatz lover, some kind of replacement for something you hadn’t found yet. At first, I thought time might pull you to me. Then, I’d break my own heart thinking of you. Over and over again, I imagined you laughing at me, so soft for you and no one else. I thought about how, one day, you’d probably find someone new. Some Deadwife, maybe. Some nice, sweet girl, who’d bare your children, and you’d tell her about us, not even doing me the dignity of being a dirty secret, and you’d both giggle together at your youthful indiscretion.’
He breathed heavily, and lent against his desk, suddenly weakened.
‘Regardless, that was in the past.’ He gazed out the window. The night was deep, the moon and her daughters at the peak of their ascent, ‘I was fine with our return to friendship’
He had not been fine. What had distressed him the most was the wordless nature of their break up. Doul used flash him that boyish smile that seemed so incongruous with the rest of him, and the Brucolac would know that he would share his bed that night. He would whisper delicious nothings, as he penetrated him, and then, when both had finished, he would ask nervously if he was okay, that he was sure it hadn’t hurt at all. Always so gentle. Then, as though ripping off a bandage, he would rise from their bed and wordlessly leave. Only his scent and his warmth to remind the Brucolac that it had not been some hallucination, not some dream.
The Brucolac sighed deeply. He hadn’t been worthy of a dismissal. No awkward, painful conversation about different hopes and directions, about unaligned personalities, about ‘affection-but-nothing-more’ for the other. The absence of a proper end to their relationship just made it harder to put to rest. It was true that, until comparatively recently, The Brucolac still felt like maybe, in one of their clandestine meetings, maybe Doul might grip his hand, and pull him close, and they would be wrapped up in each other again.
Instead, they fell into a friendship, or what could be described as a friendship. One that hurt as frequently as it helped. Harsh words in public; secret, one-sided discussions at night.
‘I was fine when I could pretend that you at least cared for me a little.’
Doul started towards him. His arm reached out to close the gap between them. The Brucolac flinched away.
‘Brucolac, if I could explain, if I could get you to understand how much I have given up…’ he trailed off, perhaps sensing that his choice of words felt rich.
The Brucolac stared at him darkly as he continued,‘I want to go back. To the way things were. Before the fucking avanc, and the Scar, before I started working for the Lovers, back when we first met’ He pleaded, ‘I have always tried to do the right thing.’
‘I have given up so much for this city, because I thought it was necessary. But...I am tired.’
He laughed a little. It sounded empty and hollow. ‘I’m so tired of always letting go!’
He began to pace, floorboards creaking under his feet, ‘Everything I have done, is for someone else! I wanted to serve, but I didn’t know it would make me a slave. Once you start down that path, you realise that everything matters. There is no chance, no happenstance. Everything has got to be exactly right. You can’t live. You can’t just be anymore. Everything is a choice. Left, right. Red, green. Eggs for breakfast, bread.’
The Brucolac didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, but let him unravel before him.
‘I don’t remember the last time I chose something, for myself just because I liked it, because I wanted it. Because I needed it’
Uther’s paused and smiled at him, tenderly, shyly.
This made the Brucolac stutter. This could not possibly be the same man in front of him. The same man, who stood, blank faced in a room full of scientists, and the Lovers themselves, and let them cook ridiculous and dangerous plans. The man who would shout him down when he requested help ending this suicidal scheme. The man who, impassively, let the Brucolac be crucified and left to burn.
‘Tell me, how can I repent?’ Doul stepped towards his former friend, ‘It will take time, of course it will take time, and I will not pressure you, but I am willing to wait. I am willing to come and stand outside your window for forty nights... fifty... forever. Whatever it takes.’
There was a manic look to Doul’s face. His usual unmoveable expression barely constraining a frantic energy, just underneath the surface, that unnerved the Brucolac greatly. Maybe he has gone mad? The Brucolac thought, Maybe Uther Doul has finally cracked?
The two men stared at each other for what felt like an age. The Brucolac, worn and tired from pain. Uther Doul, filled with some sort of passion that his ex-lover could not place.
‘I will not pressure you, I will not force you, but I want you to understand’ he paused meaningfully ‘I will beg for your forgiveness’
He emphasised the beg, as if it were a promise.
The Brucolac felt his shoulders slump a little. How much he wished he could take this plea at face value. He would punish him, make him cry and beg and lick his boots, but then his forgiveness would be a divine reward. After pardoning Doul, they could both be free to go back to how they had been. He could think about him again without feeling his skin prickle and his throat tighten. How he wished Doul could go back to being someone he could trust.
But, he was steeled to the fact that there always had to be something else. There was always something else, some sub-clause at the end of every one of his contracts. Even with the benefit of hindsight, The Brucolac struggled to pin point when Doul began to manipulate him. Was it before they met? Subsequent to him becoming Garwater’s man? After they first kissed?
‘You can hurt me’ he said, almost sweetly, ‘Please, Brucolac, hurt me, if you wish. I...I just want to make this right’
Any anger that may have abated from sadness and grief for a past long lost, returned with the vigour of an avalanche.
The Brucolac leapt up, full of feline grace, and grabbed Doul full force. He held his face tightly in his hand, and squeezed. Squeezed his cheeks hard enough to make him look laughable, ridiculous. Doul’s lips parted under pressure, and he could feel his teeth, his jaw bone, the scaffolding that kept him together. He pushed the taller man down, until he was on his knees before him, wide eyes looking up at him.
How he would love to hurt him.
He would love to have him flogged. In front of the entirety of Armada. He wanted to shout from the roof top of the Uroc, as the whip cracked and Doul whimpered, ‘Here is the great Uther Doul. Finally, facing the consequences of his actions.’ He wanted to parade his broken, pathetic body through the streets, all strength sucked from him, cringing and ashamed.
It felt such a childish, even lecherous, desire.
‘Is that all it would take for you?’ The Brucolac hissed, ‘A simple exchange; you hurt me, I hurt you, then we are even?’
He grabbed his tight cropped hair and pulled his head back. He did not resist. He let his neck lay bare in front of The Brucolac. The thin skin of his jugular quivered with each pulse. The Brucolac could smell it, ebbing and flowing, metallic and heady.
He let one sharpened talon trace the muscles of his neck. Let it push into his flesh, just a little. Every part of Doul was formed, like a sculpture, like a machine. It was strange to see the softness of his surface, see his flesh yield.
He had under estimated how hard he scratched. It punctured his skin. Doul did not flinch. A trickle of blood run down his pale skin. The Brucolac’s jaw unhinged instinctively. His teeth extended, ready to feed. The scent of his blood was ineluctable.
There was a time when turning Doul would have been his dream. To have him by his side, his colonel, his right hand man; it would have felt like being chosen.
His serpentine tongue flicked out eagerly, and he let it mop up the flow, avoiding the wound deftly. He wanted to drink from him, to clamp his teeth deep into his jugular and to feel his life force pour into him, to feed until he was intoxicated by it, but he stopped himself. He let himself lick and suck what flowed from his wound. His mouth filled with his blood. Hot and metallic; he tasted of fear and arousal and self-inflicted passivity.
Gods, he had missed him.
The Brucoloc drunk all that the spring of blood had brought forth. He felt the other man’s strength flow into him, and Gods, he was strong. The feel of Doul’s skin underneath his tongue, his mouth, felt deliciously familiar. He had craved it for years. There was a part of him that yearned to feel his weight upon his back, to let him back in, even with all the pain he had caused. He let his tongue lead up from the wound, finding his way to his lips and kissed him deeply. Doul submitted completely, and let the blood spill into his mouth.
A tentative presence, then loving strokes, The Brucolac felt Doul’s hand caress his face. His flesh warm was against his own dead, cold skin. He brushed wild hair from his cheeks, and cupped the back of his head, pulling him in deeper into the kiss. Nothing, nothing had felt sweeter.
The Brucolac detached from him quickly, as if he had been scorched.
‘We both know it doesn’t work like that’
He stepped back from him, and watched as Doul wiped blood from his mouth.
‘Nothing I do to you will earn you forgiveness’
The Brucolac returned behind his desk, and turned away. He could feel himself shaking.
‘I have never wanted to hurt you. All I have ever wanted was softness’, he fought to keep the quiver out of his voice.
He was well aware that he sounded pathetic, but he felt beaten. Whatever game Doul was playing, whatever this temptation was for, he wanted no part in it. He watched the reflection of his former lover rise to his feet. How dare you, how dare you come here to offer me everything I ever wanted, knowing that you have poisoned it, defiled it so?
If it had to be like this, then so it shall remain.
Doul seemed to sense that he was no longer welcome. The cold of the night had seeped back into the room. The warmth he had left on the Brucolac’s skin was fading fast.
Uther Doul walked slowly to the door.
He stopped at the frame, ‘I am, truly and forever, sorry for what I have done. And I mean it, I will wait. However long it takes’
There was silence between them. The Brucolac’s entire body was overcome with fatigue deeper than his muscles, deeper than his bones. He held himself steady.
Doul grasped the handle and pulled it towards him, before the Brucolac spoke.
‘Don’t come back, Doul. I’m done.’
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Tonight, on Bottom Gear: Ylthin gets extra sentimental about the spiky lads, and especially her fictional dysfunctional more-or-less-spiky children
(AKA I’m going to vaguely ramble about why I ticked so hard with Chaos and Chaos Marines as a faction, and how my personal experiences may or may not have seeped through into my renegade/CSM OCs)
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Maybe I should begin by bringing up what exactly spurred this - and it’s a meme posted in a mutual’s Discord server this evening:
I saw it and nodded, for it is good and righteous to call the canon dumb and elope with some harlot to the wild frontier of headcanon, fanon and others. But at the same time - how about acknowledging canon... by defying it? How about taking the grand founding rule of this fictional universe and asking “okay, but what would happen if something didn’t conform to it”? Taking the one in a hundred, one in a thousand, one in a million... one-period, the sole existing or known exception to what’s considered the norm?
And then it struck me - it’s what Chaos and otherwise rogue Marines are to the Imperium. They’re the impossible, the anathema, the living defiance of both its founding principles and current ideological line, a thing so blasphemous their very existence is a desperately guarded state secret. They’re thoroughly brainwashed into total obedience, yet somehow break out of it, betray their sovereign - be it for the Ruinous Powers, their own agenda or both. They’re the exception to the rule - and an exception so powerful, so fundamental, it dates back to the founding of the Imperium and originally covered nearly half of the Legiones Astartes. They prove that the rule is hardly as set in stone as the Imperium would like you to believe, and if you think about it for more than a second...
Wouldn’t it mean other exceptions are possible, too?
Wouldn’t it mean that an Astartes can be of other gender than “male”? That they can experience sexual or romantic attraction? That they can feel the full spectrum of human emotions and desires, or at least parts of it?
And what would happen if they did so in an environment that denies them the knowledge or space to express themselves? One that seeks to repress those feelings and behaviors, directly or indirectly?
For example, what would happen if the hypno-conditioning was flawed beyond just allowing for “too much” free will or “not enough” attachment to the Imperium over the Marine’s own brotherhood? If he was unusually sympathetic and protective of mortals, genuinely invested in fighting “for the good of mankind”? Or if he felt particularly responsible for the brothers assigned to his command, seeing himself as a teacher and a role model, but more importantly someone they could confide in and seek advice from?
What would happen if a Marine found himself falling in love with - and simultaneously also feeling physically attracted to - another battle brother while understanding in theory how human sexuality operates but remaining firmly convinced it doesn’t - and shouldn’t - extend to Astartes? If “he” felt off about his hypermasculine appearance and secretly questioned the logic behind artificially maintaining an environment with only one, nominally “male” gender?
What would happen if a Marine was drafted into a war, but not given a cause to believe in or rally around, thrust into another man’s conflict without any personal conviction or stake, nothing beyond a vague claim of “duty” and “sole purpose”?
What would happen if this was confounded by snippets of knowledge - surviving memories of the past, direct experiences with mortals, overheard words - yet also faced with opposition in some way, quiet or loud, with misunderstanding, denial, hostility, punishment or deterrence? If this experience seemed to be an isolated case, a one-of-a-kind event at best and a major defect at worst?
What would happen to those one-in-many, to isolated grains of sand that slipped through a hair-thin crack?
And what if those unique experiences became compounded, layered on top of other, more conventionally-unconventional exceptions? A Rubric exile partially afflicted by the spell they helped cast, a noble-hearted Fenrisian who fought on Armageddon only to slip into Khorne’s clutches, an Imperial Fist successor who fought his way into the ranks of Iron Warriors to lead a squad of young, disheartened recruits...
After all, the galaxy is so massive that one-in-a-million events can basically happen every other day. One percent - one in a hundred - out of one million is ten thousand, and from our limited human perspective there’s almost nothing stopping reality from somehow hitting that one percent chance several times in a row.
After all, life spun the wheel with me and checked off a whole bunch of boxes in one go, making me queer, neurodivergent, mentally ill and very angry about a number of things in retrospect - and I wouldn’t be able to describe myself as either of these things if I haven’t heard from people who experienced them as well. Go figure.
#ylthinOCrambles#40k rambles#I can probably talk your ear off about each one of the characters I've mentioned here#but it's 1AM and I wanted to keep at least the appearances of writing something coherent and cohesive and whatever else#so if you want to get OC lore-dumped#please let me know and I'll make separate posts for it at a more humane hour#I work 9-5 and the past 2 days were office days so I have some sleep to catch up on k thx bye
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omg 👀👀 i was looking thru ang content on tumblr and i saw an old post of yours about the dandelion+countess stael=ang theory and !!! I actually had wondered earlier if you were at all interested/supported this theory bc I read about it awhile back and actually love it so much? :,) It's a favorite hc of mine and I may have tried to subtly incorporate it into my ang design...i just think its too Incheresting an idea not to explore tbhhhh
oh wow! i remember this theory :)...!
post explaining the theory in case anyone is confused
or tl;dr of the theory: essentially, it's that dandelion is 38 years old, dandelion knew countess de stael 19 years ago, dandelion has a penchant for lovin' and leavin' 'em, angouleme is 19 years old and is the daughter of an unknown noblewoman and some scoundrel that seduced her. and they're both blonde.
this is from june of 2019, which should provide some context.
(okay, so... sorry for long and kind of serious response to a lighthearted ask <3 i do not want to spare the details!)
firstly, i was never too fond of it as a serious headcanon in the first place, i proposed it as more of a crack theory. i wanted more reason for dandelion and angouleme to get more attention, and i thought, no harm done in a silly "what if", right? well...
secondly, only a few months after i came up with this theory... netflix's witcher premiered, and... it immediately became insufferable to have headcanons and theories about dandelion because of the shift in fan culture. i did not want to associate with the fans who were making farfetched theories about jaskier-dandelion.
due to the behavior of the netflix community, which in my experience completely disregarded canon facts and characterization, AUs and "what if"s overall stopped being fun to engage with. in reaction to the netflix fandom culture, i felt a need to stop making "weird-fun-silly" headcanons, theories, etc. that would contradict or cut against the grain of canon, and instead focus on headcanons, theories, etc. that would either support or be supported by canon. it's somewhat regretful, but i think it taught me an important lesson about why i'm here, and it deepened my appreciation of the storytelling and literary qualities of the witcher.
thirdly, since more time has passed since then, i've also engaged with new headcanons... @toussaintred and i came up with a lot of headcanons about the countess de stael and dandelion's interactions with her in august 2021. instead of being a romantic peer-to-peer relationship, she was a mature woman who he developed a crush on and was inspired to change his life and identity because of her.
i ended up writing a post about those headcanons re: dandelion and the countess de stael as they exist now, if you are interested :')
but most importantly the reason i didn't go through with this headcanon is because i want dandelion and angouleme to exist in the same space without their relationship being fraught with tragedy and disdain; i think, were he her father, she wouldn't be able to even look at him. and the guilt may destroy him, too.
it's also, for me... i have this interpretation of the hanza in that they have all made such mistakes or been the victims of mistreatment in their lives, but despite these strong emotions, they cannot go back into the past and confront the people who hurt them, or apologize to the people they hurt. all they can do now is live in the present and try to do better in the future. for each member of the hanza, there is no closure.
i see this with cahir, who harmed ciri and cannot undo that, but has now joined the company and denounced nilfgaard. i see it with regis, who destroyed his own life and pushed everyone away, but is now seeking humanity. i see it with milva, who has spilt and lost blood of her own, and learning vulnerability. and angouleme... angouleme cannot know her parents, they abandoned her and will always have abandoned her. they receive no second chances, she'll never know them, and has to deal with that emptiness which persists with her. even when in the company, which comforts her... despite her beginning to heal and try to take care of herself, she'll never find closure about her mother or father, because they're irrevocably gone.
i also think dandelion and angouleme can have a really positive relationship without a biological connection between them. i mean, i think the thought could occur to dandelion: "she is younger than, i suppose, however old little eye is now. plague, she could even be the daughter i never had- ptu, will never have..." but i don't see dandelion ever having a father-daughter relationship with her. it's more like his relationship with ciri, where it takes a village to raise a child, and he's a close friend of the family...
but i do think dandelion would impart some knowledge onto her, especially that around politics and how to navigate the social interactions of a court, which she wants to do but is unfamiliar with. it's somewhat ironic, because he himself completely disregards these kinds of manners and formalities. but he does know them, so he can tell her... dandelion and angouleme have opposite relationships with nobility and i think the most interesting thing about them in beauclair would be that dandelion is using his noble identity to secure a life he wants, but a life that contradicts his broader identity and desires in life, because his vision is clouded by the dreams of toussaint...
#ask#kashuan#THANK YOU FOR ASKING ABOUT THIS THOUGH... even if i dont really vibe with the theory now i still remember it well and#am slightly attached to it eheheh
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Sensitive Ears
(Requested by Anonymous: hello could write something about reader / fem like to tease Prince Nuada's sensitive ears and things get hot (only if you wanted to) )
(A/N): I liked the idea and it’s totally a Forever Headcanon for me that Nuada’s ears are super sensitive, but unfortunately, I am not good with spicy stuff but I tried, I did this quickly so sorry for any kind of errors.
Warnings: Grammatical Errors, Slight Smut, Fluff.
Word Count: 1,428
You honesty found out about it by accident.
The two of you have been together for a while then, a couple of months at best and like any new relationship, the two of you were going through the famous "Honeymoon" phase. Everyone said how in almost every corner they would see you making out like there was no tomorrow. But Nuada was to blame because he is the one who'd have you pinned against the wall in an empty corridor to attack your lips and enjoy the thrill of the moment and the thrill of being in a public place. Nuada loving being the one dominant would always have your hands pinned above your head or behind your back forbidden any attempt to touch him without permission, but of course, came the moment when that rule was broken and that is by you surprise him with a heated kiss. While he was occupied with something you had managed to sneak your hand behind his head and pull him for a kiss. He was shocked enough that he didn't stop you when you reached out with your other hand to run your fingers through his platinum blond hair, in the end, Nuada gave in and started kissing you back but he immediately pulled away from you when your thump brushed against his ears. Your wide eyes stared back into his own, both of you surprised but for different reasons. When Nuada pulled away he instinctively covered the "assaulted" ear to protect it. You were afraid that you might have hurt him but when you saw the Golden blush that was spreading across his face your mind realized something else.
"You liked that…" You said slowly, still surprised.
"What?.. No, I'm not!" Nuada was defensive and the way he replied to you only confirmed your theory further, for he became even more flustered.
You decided to experiment with that theory further. When he would be preoccupied with something you would go hug him from behind, which he usually allows but then you would sneak one of your hands to rub the tip of his ears between your fingers, which ended up with I'm letting out a small groan before pulling your hand away forcefully, you'd laugh at his blushing face. And there was also the time when the two of you were in a meeting, of course, the meeting would be boring so you and Nuada would talk through them in a hushed whisper. Well, you took the chance of being so close to his ear to give it a quick, which made Nuada let out a small yelp but loud enough that made everyone turn to him, you, of course, had already pulled away before anyone notices.
"Is there something you would like to add prince Nuada?" Asked Manning, who looked tired from the meeting.
Nuada turned to you, who was also looking at him confused.
"Nuada what's wrong?" You asked innocently but he could see the gleam of mischief in your eyes.
"Nothing." He said calmly, giving you one last glare before turning to Manning. "An old injury shock pain through my body."
"Then go to the infirmary or something." Manning said dismissively before turning to the board and continuing what he was saying.
Nuada stood up to leave ignoring you completely, but as he turned around he could feel your hand brushing lightly against his thigh. if it wasn't for his training of self-control Nuada would have visibly shivered. (Y/n) was discovering his weaknesses, and using them against him for her own pleasure. That was no good for the Elf prince so he decided maybe more meditation might help him control these odd feelings when (Y/n) tries to inflict them.
And it worked.
When (Y/n) came again to attack his ears Nuada was in more control, and by control, he means not showing his reaction but inside his heart still skipped and beat faster as she toyed with him. His little Human grew frustrated that he was not jumping around whenever she tried to tease him, and so she stopped. Nuada felt victorious… For a few days only.
Nuada was sitting in his room reading the documents given to him to fill when he heard his door slightly open. Other humans probably wouldn't have noticed, but he was no human with weak senses, and from the reflection of one of his hanged swords he could see that it was (Y/n) tiptoeing slowly towards him. She was obviously trying to attack his ears again and Nuada would have laughed at her attempt if it wasn't so cute. He took few deep breaths to prepare himself for what is about to happen, she was going to try and rub his ears or pinch the tip again.
Oh, how wrong he was.
(Y/n) latched her arms around his neck and buried her face to his neck, as expected she started to rub his left ear with his left hand, Nuada would have shuddered if it wasn't for his willpower. However, his victory was short-lived as his human pulled her head from his neck and attacked his right ear by nibbling it, and with that, the shields that he has put up had shattered to the ground as he let out an audible groan of pleasure at her action. And before he could relish in the feeling she pulled away and he turned to give her a confused look on why did she stop.
"I won!" (Y/n) exclaimed with a jump as she punched her fist to the sky in victory.
Nuada's eyes widened slightly at her action before they narrowed dangerously. (Y/n) noticed that and the smile flattened as she shrieked at his gaze. Feeling like a prey facing its hunter.
"Come on, you are not really mad are you?"
He stood up slowly and walked to you, but you also kept going backward at every step he took until your back his the door, which closed against your pressed weight. Nuada reaches forward and you closed your eyes waiting for anything but nothing came. You opened your eyes when you heard the sound of the door lock, your gaze met Nuada's intense stare as a grin slowly formed on his face. He pressed his body against your own and raised his other hand to place it on your waist before slowly tracing it down to your outer thigh, he then leaned in closer to you towards you until he pressed his lips against yours. Your eyes went wide from the contact, the Elven prince moved his lips over yours intensely and passionately, you could only let out small moans as he deepened the kiss for more. You were melting in his arms and wanted nothing more than to give in, but when you started to kiss back he grasped your thighs and forced himself away from you causing you to let out a small whine at the loss of his touch. Your cracked open your eyes to stare up at Nuada through lowered lashes. His grin hadn't faltered but his eyes held such strong lust as they stared down at you.
"N…Nuada.." You finally let out, not wanting him to stop but before you could say anything he said with a chuckle.
"You see little one, Like yourself, I know all of your weaknesses." Nuada said as he leaned in again.
He raised one of his hands and tangled his fingers in your (H/c) locks of hair. Gently he pulled your head back so your throat was bared more for his leisure. You moaned softly as his lips caressed over your flesh and placed soft kisses along your jugular. He then suddenly fisted your hair and grasped one of your arms tightly causing you to whimper but you still didn't move for the pain also was pleasurable. Nuada chuckled against your throat, before moving up to your ear.
"Did you think, after everything you did that you will be rewarded with pleasure?" He asked. His warm breath wafted over your ear, making you shudder in his embrace.
"W… What are you gonna do about it?" You couldn't help but ask causing his hold on you to loosen a little just enough so your eyes could meet.
Nuada licked his lips as the equal lustful stare you gave him.
"Then I have to punish you." He said heatedly. "Though I doubt you will learn anything, now would you?"
"No…" You answered with a grin. "I would not."
Nuada's grin widened at your answer.
"Such a troublesome human I have here."
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I hope you guys enjoyed it and I am sorry that it is short and not spicy enough.
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won’t you give me your cruelest smile
↳ DARK ACADEMIA TSUKISHIMA KEI
pairing: tsukishima kei x gn!reader
word count: 1.4k
excerpt:
He makes no move to get up as he watches you pack. “You really don’t like me, do you?” He sounds far too pleased for your liking.
“No one likes you,” you snap back, stuffing the last heavy tome in your bag and shouldering it. “You’re an ass.”
a/n: @yamagucji said dark academia tsukki and my brain quite literally short circuited
tags: enemies-ish to lovers (more like academic rivals to lovers), tsukki being an annoyingly smart condescending history major, reader goes through the five stages of grief when they realize they might actually li- 🤢 like him, a reference to the classic ‘ooooh you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid’
If there is a single, minuscule, barely visible silver lining in having Tsukishima as a partner for your quarter project it is that, without a doubt, he is smart.
You have to admit, begrudgingly, that his intellect borders on genius-level which is something you use as silent proof to attest to your working theory that there is in fact, no god, or at the very least not a kind one, because if there was they wouldn’t be blessing gremlins like the one sitting across from you with a gift like that.
He’s quiet now (after about an hour of telling you all the ways your interpretation was oh so very wrong) and content to stare at you lazily, his eyes half-lidded and filled with his specific brand of cruel amusement that leaves you wanting to do nothing more than smack his black-rimmed glasses right off his smug face.
You take a deep breath and try desperately to quell the utterly unique type of rage he elicits in you, although as always, nothing you do ever quite manages to bring your boiling blood to a simmer.
He’s twirling his expensive black pen between his stupidly long fingers. Every once in a while the light catches on the onyx stone of his pinky ring which somehow manages to flash directly in your eyes every time. He notices, of course. He notices everything. Which makes you think he’s doing it on purpose just to be an ass.
Which, admittedly, is perfectly in line with everything else he does so, you come to the frustrating conclusion that he most definitely is doing it on purpose.
“You’re embarrassingly easy to rile up,” he says, interrupting your silent seething, his voice deep and smooth and absolutely dripping with condescending satisfaction.
Your eyes flash up from the book you’d been only barely processing just to be met with his own golden-brown ones. He’s smirking down at you, of course. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him wear any other sort of expression.
You want nothing more than to glare at him but that would just be proving his point so instead, you snap your book shut. It rings out loudly in the empty library.
“It’s late. Let’s start this backup tomorrow.”
He makes no move to get up as he watches you pack. “You really don’t like me, do you?” he sounds far too pleased for your liking.
“No one likes you,” you snap back, stuffing the last heavy tome in your bag and shouldering it. “You’re an ass.”
He tilts his head back, exposing his long neck, and laughs. It’s so deep you feel it in your own chest. You just barely manage to suppress a shiver, which thank fuck, because he would’ve most definitely noticed it and you don’t think you’d be able to live that down.
You make your way towards the front doors but not before he manages to slip on his wool coat and catch up to you, with ease of course, his long legs have become your number one enemy over the quarter because he always, always, catches up with you when you try to speed walk away from him.
The autumn chill immediately settles into your bones, your skin prickles unpleasantly. You can see your breath in the night air. A shitty end to a shit day.
You both head down the cobbled street in strangely comfortable silence. He’s close enough that you can feel the heat he radiates and you’re silently thankful for it.
You get to the fork in the path where he takes his way back to his dorm and you take yours but instead of peeling off left like he usually does he sticks to your side.
You stop immediately and eye him up warily. “What are you doing?”
He rolls his eyes. “Asking idiotic questions doesn’t really suit you, you know.”
You say nothing, content to narrow your eyes.
He rolls his eyes again and lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I’m walking you home, try not to be a brat about it.”
“You never walk me home,” you point out, suspiciously.
“You are rather good at pointing out the very obvious, aren’t you?” and before you can respond he already had turned on his heels and started walking. You have to half jog to catch up.
You watch him out of the corner of your eye with the intent of trying to read his motive but you get stuck on the fact that his cheeks are flushed rather prettily from the cold.
“You sure do love to stare, don’t you?” he asks rather conversationally.
You’ve never wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole more in your entire life. Your cheeks burn hot even in the frigid cold.
He notices. Of course he does. What does Tsukishima Kei not notice?
“No need to be embarrassed,” he needles cruelly. “Denial can be a brutal beast.”
You only barely manage to stop yourself from asking what exactly he means by that, what exactly he thinks you’re in denial about.
But you know he wants nothing more than for you to ask so you take a sweet sort of satisfaction in not questioning him further, at least on that front.
The rest of the walk back to your dorm is spent in less comfortable silence than before. There’s an odd sort of tension in the air, like a rope pulled so tight you can physically feel it starting to fray, getting ready to snap.
It comes to a head when, after getting to your building, instead of immediately going inside you find yourself looking down and shuffling your feet.
You know you should thank him, even if you didn’t ask him to walk you home. You guys never worked this late, you’d lost track of time (it’s scarily easy to lose track of time when arguing with Tsukishima) and you know it was nice of him to walk you home when he’d have to double back another 15 minutes in the freezing cold to get to his place.
You know you should thank him. It’s the reasonable, polite thing to do. But it’s just so fucking hard to be reasonable and polite when Tsukishima Kei and his galaxy-sized ego are involved. No one in your entire life has been able to get under your skin as he has. It’s like he was perfectly crafted to be your own personal headache.
You brave a glance up at him and find that he’s standing very, very close and staring, rather intensely, at you. A curiously amused gleam in his eye.
Your mind stutters and then stops completely, going painfully blank.
He’s so stupidly pretty.
His skin is flawless, you’ve never once seen him with even a single pimple, his hair is the nicest pale-blond you’ve ever seen and it falls in perfect tufts against his forehead, but it’s his eyes that always make you shift from foot to foot. They’re such a unique shade of golden-brown, and now, shrouded in the dark and mere inches away from your own face, you’d swear on your life they were practically glowing.
“You’ve got something on your mind?” he asks, his tone anything but sweet. He’s so close you can smell the warm spice of his cologne and the ever-clinging scent of ancient books that seems to follow him wherever he goes.
“I-” but you can’t seem to put together a coherent sentence. You don’t think you’ve ever hated someone so much in your life.
Somehow, he’s managed to push in even closer. “You know what I think?”
No, you want to say, and I don’t want to know. Your heart is beating far too fast and you can’t explain why.
(You know exactly why)
“I think you want to kiss me.”
And just like that the rope snaps and you’re viciously tugging him down by the collar of his too-nice coat so you can smash your lips against his.
The kiss is brutal. Far too mean with too much teeth. At one point you taste the sting of iron and you can’t tell if the blood is his or yours.
He backs you up against a wall without breaking the kiss. When he bites at your lip, no doubt cutting it open, you grab a fist full of his hair and tug cruelly and his responding groan tastes so sweet on your tongue.
He doesn’t pull away until your lungs are screaming for air.
He’s inches away from you, pupils blown wide, lips swollen (and a little bloody), and his hair is a mess. It’s the most out of sorts you’ve ever seen him.
If you thought he was pretty before, he’s absolutely beautiful now.
His smirk widens into a full blown smile and you understand now why he doesn’t show it often. It shows too many teeth, it’s downright wolfish. Predatory, even.
You don’t really have time to think on it though before he pulls you into another bruising kiss.
have some dark academia tsukishima headcanons while you’re here
he is without a doubt the most pretentious asshole you will ever meet and and you will HATE yourself for eventually finding him weirdly charming in any capacity
he is, of course, a history major which. if you have ever met pretentious male history majors you will know that this means he is a literal walking, talking, annoyingly tall headache
interrupts professors constantly. does it like he’s getting paid. will argue and argue and argue with them without that dumb condescending smirk ever, ever managing to slip off his face
(the worst part is, he’s honestly probably making a good point most of the time. but you’d quite literally rather die than admit that to him)
he is always walking around campus lazily flipping through leather bound books so old they’re cracked precariously at their spines, all on different ancient civilizations. you’d think that’d mean he’d be running into people but the student body collectively parts like the red sea for him which sets your teeth on edge.
he’s unbelievably arrogant and the worst part is its not baseless like you find yourself so desperately wishing it was
he IS smart, wickedly so. disgustingly, cruelly intelligent and he will use it to pick you apart piece by piece while that stupid fucking smirk stays glued on his face.
(you start to seriously question whether or not he’s even human because how can anyone keep the same, perfectly calculated expression for that long?)
always looks like he stepped straight out of some dark alternate universe vogue photoshoot with his constant rotation of black turtlenecks, long coats, and oxford loafers all tied together by the same 5 rings he’s never seen without, two of which are set with hefty onyx stones
you will be unlucky enough to be paired up with him for a project that will take all quarter long and multiple meet ups a week. when your professor announced your partner, you genuinely consider dropping the class and when you find out you wouldn’t be able to drop the class without switching majors, you genuinely consider switching majors
you don’t. and by the end of the quarter you’re really starting to question whether that was a good thing or not
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#hq!!#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima kei#hq#tsukishima kei x reader#tsukishima x y/n#tsukishima x you#tsukishima imagine#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu scenarios#tsukishima scenarios#you think thats enough tags lmaoooo#vicwrites#vicwriteshq
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LMAO, okay so what if they discovered that Diavolo (or his dad) was MC's dad? Like they get scared and then boom, wings and horns.
This idea is *chefs kiss*. I’m assuming since this was sent in when my requests were open ages ago that this is a headcanon idea so here we go! Thank you for your patience, finally you can have some Demon!Mc content!
These are Headcanons for the Brothers, but I like the idea so much I might come back later and write some for the Undateables.
The Prince of Hell is My Half Brother?
Everything had been normal at first. Well, as normal as living in a modern version of hell with some of the deadliest demons can be. Something about it all...felt...comforting. Although MC knew that couldn’t be the case, they were unaware of what it was that alluded to the feeling of home. MC’s roommates and protectors were a little grateful when the human settled in with relative ease in their otherworldly situation, but even they questioned how the mortal could accept it all so simply.
Diavolo himself had an idea of why. From the moment he first saw MC, something in his soul bound to them. He needed to test out this theory of his, but not by being direct, no, he would never get an authentic answer that way. Plus, it was no fun, and with his endless royal responsibilities, he felt he was due a little entertainment.
So, he conjured up another one of his toyful ploys. With the help of Barbatos, the residents of Purgatory Hall and the House of Lamentation were trapped in the coliseum. Slowly, one of the chambers raised its protective gates, unleashing a demonic monster. It wasn’t till MC felt their life threatened when the change happened, something about their prolonged exposure to magic and the Devildom’s atmosphere managed to finally bring out the secrets in them. Their skin burned and the air around them seemed to spark...and then...they had been changed. New wings, a set of horns?
A magical chain shot out from the empty room and dragged the creature back in, the metal gates slamming back down and locking itself into place. Diavolo and Barbatos seemed to show up out of thin air. The prince was booming in laughter while the butler tilted his head in amusement.
“So I was right! I had a feeling,” The Demon Lord started. “Right before he went into slumber, my father had this grand plan to try to create half demon hybrids, although...I thought it had been declared unsuccessful...but you…” Something shone in his eyes, something like he’d just found something he thought had been long lost. “You are my kin! My family! Human and Demon! Exactly the sort of thing to help bring all our worlds together!”
Lucifer
This man has not been surprised by anything in centuries, whether it be due to his wits or drastically low expectations. But this...he wasn’t even sure he was seeing correctly. The human he had thought was weak and fragile suddenly had one pair of leathery bat wings and a set of horns curling around the back of their head. And...what had Diavolo just said?...Family?...Half demon?
First off, he has to drag the young prince away for a disappointed and thorough review of this ridiculously dangerous plan of his. What if he had been wrong? What if the human--or...half human--had died?! Secondly, what did this mean for the exchange program now that it’d turned out the human wasn’t quite so human after all?
For the first time in a long while...he was unprepared how to handle this. Of course, Diavolo was elated and too caught up in the excitement of things to pay any mind to Lucifer’s woes.
This would be...an adventure…
He’ll admit, he tried ignoring it at first, hoping that if he simply kept MC under wraps and out of dangerous situations, they’d keep the demon half under control. However, those plans were quickly dashed when one evening they’d sneezed at dinner, their wings manifesting out of thin air and smacking Lucifer square in the face. With their awakened demon powers unchecked, their own worst danger was themselves. So there was only one thing left he could do.
He’d have to train them.
The thought of having to devote even more time to work nearly drove him mad, but he quickly discovered that the time teaching MC was...heartwarming. Satan had been so hell-bent on teaching himself when he grew into his own form that Lucifer hadn’t taken someone under his wings like this since the Celestial Realm. It rapidly got to the point where he’d look forward to his sessions with MC.
“You’re going to want to spread your wings wide and catch as much air under them as you can in one swoop. Flailing won’t get you anywhere,” Lucifer explained, feeling the half-human grip his hand tightly as they stood at the edge of the roof.
They squeezed their eyes shut with fear, but he could feel their heart pumping with adrenaline at the excitement. “What if I fall?”
“You won’t. But, on the chance you do, I’ll catch you.” He released their fingers and stepped off the ledge, falling down for the briefest of moments before his wings outstretched and he fluttered up, remaining stagnant in the same spot in the sky a few feet away from the precipice. “Alright, come on. Those wings aren’t just for decoration you know.” MC was wary, nearly petrified with fear. He sighed, reaching out his hand towards them despite being so far from them. “Trust me.” With a breath, they closed their eyes and pushed their body off the ground with a single flap. It was choppy, and the more they panicked, the more distressed their wings became. But they moved forward, eyes glued to the ground far below them. Once they were in reach of Lucifer’s hand, they pulled him close, face planted in his chest while clinging onto him for dear life. “See, you did it,” he beamed, chest swelling with pride.
The longer he held them against him, the more they were able to get used to how hovering felt, the more the fear melted away. They pulled apart from him, managing to stay level with him. “I...did...I’m-I’m flying.”
Their pure awe and obvious statement elicited a chuckle from him. “You are. Quite an experience isn’t it? Come along now, you still have those new extensions to break in, and let me tell you, there’s nothing quite like a peaceful soar under the stars.”
Under his tutelage, MC would have themselves under control in no time.
Mammon
Of course he was shocked, why wouldn’t he be?! His little human was...half demon? What was the point?! How was he supposed to protect them, to be the world to them, to...He felt a little betrayed. But then again...he took a moment to ponder this new discovery. Diavolo’s family? Royalty? The potential access to the Demon King’s funds?! He and his pact-mate were one small step away from the most Grimm he’s ever seen! He sulked for a little bit but then was perhaps the most excited of the bunch. Well, save for Diavolo.
The profits! The benefits! The schemes! Glorious treasures and buckets of money were all he could think about for a while. That was, until he noticed them nearly tripping on their own wings and getting things snagged in their horns. At the end of the day...this was still MC, still his...friend, and now it seemed he had more reason to protect them than ever.
But money was still on the table...if MC wanted it to be anyway.
As shocking as it was, he’d been taking a lot of the blame and brunt of MC’s mistakes. Wings accidentally popped out and broke a vase? He’d comforted them as they panicked and tried to convince Lucifer it was his doing. Horns manifesting themselves in the middle of the night and shredding their bedding? He’d pay for a replacement. After all, what kind of lousy ‘first’ demon could he be if he couldn’t even look after MC despite appearances? He was still pleased there were things he could do for them, that there was a reason to keep him around.
Half-demon or no, MC was still his “stupid human”.
Shaking his head, he allowed himself a heavy sigh and a shrug of his shoulders as he looked down at MC, struggling to free themselves from a tangle of curtains. However they got themselves in this position, only his father knew. Their wing was wrapped in the fabric and one of their horns snagged, unable to let them escape. “I thought I told ya to avoid dangly things till you can control this form of yours.” Despite his best attempts at looking disappointed, he couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer, his bubbly chuckles bringing a blush to MC’s embarrassed face.
“Don’t laugh, just help me out!”
“That’s notta very nice tone to have for the only person around to help, ya know,” he teased, smirking down at them with a glint in his eyes.
They groaned, tugging once again at the curtain that seemed to have a death grip on the rod despite their struggle. Their wing got bound tighter in the shift, causing them to wince and Mammon to drop his smile. “Mammon, please…”
He dropped to his knees and grabbed their face with his hand as he kept them steady. Tearing a bit at the hole they’d already made with their horn, he helped get their head free. MC wrapped their arms around his neck and pressed their face against his chest while he busied himself observing the mess they’d gotten themselves in. “Man, how’d you even manage this…? It’s gonna have to go.”
“The wing?!” MC shouted, eyes wide with fear.
“Nah, you silly human, the curtain.” Gripping the tear, he pulled his hands apart, the sharp sound of breaking seams cracking through the room. The bottom half of the drapes had successfully been separated. With it, MC already felt the pressure lessen. “There we are,” he announced, unwrapping them till they were finally free. MC stretched their wings and grinned with relief. “What would you do without the Great Mammon, huh?”
There would be plenty of mistakes to come, but Mammon would always be by their side to help them out of it...if he hadn’t helped get them there in the first place.
Levi
OMG are you kidding?! This is exactly like the plot in ‘I Had No Idea Who I Was Till I Awoke In A Strange Land And Now I Have Secret Powers! And Oh, Turns Out The Prince Is My Half Brother!’, it couldn’t get any closer than that! The twist! The shock! It was like he was living in a real life fantasy! (Apparently being a demon and constantly surrounded by magic and spells doesn’t quite fulfill his expectations)
Honestly, he’s having a little meltdown in his head, which is obvious to the others due to his fervent muttering and the eyes that never seem to focus. He thinks they’re cool already, so cool, but now they’re even better! Better than him! A cute human with now the powers and features of a demon, and technically a royal?! He can’t compete with that! How are they ever going to look at him the same again? They even have wings! He doesn’t have those! Envy hardly even begins to describe his feelings.
He needs to go have some time to cool down and clear his head, but when he comes back, he’ll be ready to call them a normie again.
His...fickle and crippling emotions drives him to avoid MC for a while. He doesn’t know how to approach them anymore. What if they’d suddenly changed? What if they didn’t need him or want him around? Endless what-if scenarios ran through his head, not even TSL seemed to help. But, he had to come out of his room eventually. If not out of sheer loneliness, because he’d finally ran out of health-items (aka food and water).
Besides...while he does his best to convince others that 2D is supreme, he can’t deny that he’s missed his friend, his Henry, immensely.
During one of his supposed “supply raids”, Levi passed MC’s room, peering in through the open door. It was mid-day, well into school hours, meaning everyone but him should be gone, but...MC was there, sitting on their bed. They scrolled through apps on their phone, refreshing, closing and opening the same apps over and over again before finally setting their D.D.D. aside. He noticed they looked...bored...and lonely. A moment like this would’ve been the perfect time to throw the door open wide and go comfort them...that’s what anime characters usually did...it’s something his brothers had no issue with. But his anxiety overwhelmed him, and he instead tried to speed past the door.
Apparently alongside their new features, MC had gained a keener sense of awareness. They quickly turned their head, watching the blur of him speed past their door. “Levi! Wait!” Dashing out into the hallway, their wing jammed against the doorframe, causing them to tumble to the floor. A sharp intake of air was sucked through their teeth, and Levi’s panic triumphed over his unease.
“MC! Hey, are-are you alright?” He got to his knees beside them, his hands hovering over them but not having the courage to follow-through.
“Y-yeah, I’m still not quite used to these yet,” MC frowned, curving their own wing around their body to rub at the sore spot.
Lip twitching, he focused on an interesting spot in the carpet before speaking. “S-so, why...why are you home and not at RAD?”
“Diavolo and Lucifer...thought it would be best that I stay at home until I get...adjusted,” They explained, their voice sounding low and distant.
There were so many things he wished he would’ve said. ‘I’m sorry’, ‘well, at least you aren’t alone’, ‘you’ll get the hang of things in no time’. But what he really said was, “O-oh.” And now here they were in some awkward silence. Somehow, Levi had come up with the idea that MC would now be one of the most popular people in the realm. Demons fawning over them, their life instantly changed, a life they didn’t need him in. But here they were, lonely like he was, stuck inside like he was. “D-do-do you,” he stuttered. “Do you want to hang out in-hang out in my room?”
A familiar smile painted onto their face, and it made his chest tighten. “If you’re okay with it, then sure!”
He’d missed them. “Okay! You remember that show we watched last week? They came out with a new episode! Oh, and-and some new figures I ordered arrived, you can help unbox them with me if you want!” He helped them rise to their feet. “But uh...I can’t have you knocking over things in my room…” He released his tail, blushing as he carefully wrapped it a few times around MC’s torso, keeping their twitching wings carefully pinned against their back.
Even though they’d transformed and been announced as Diavolo’s half-sibling...some things just didn’t change.
Satan
Very intrigued, so much so he began sputtering off questions immediately. How did this come about? How long is their lifespan? How powerful are they? What’s their soul like? How does the pact work? Are they resistant to demon and human weaknesses? Will they have some inheritance of the kingdom? He’s throwing out so many inquiries, even Diavolo has a hard time keeping up.
The only thing the prince could tell Satan was that he didn’t know. The prince had never come into contact with a demon/human offspring before, he wasn’t even sure if there were others out there. Even if there were, the hybrids themselves probably wouldn’t even know. After all, it wasn’t until their arrival to the Devildom till MC’s powers had been ignited. Satan, unsatisfied with the lack of information, decided that he’d have to record, document, and discover everything himself.
Which meant MC would hardly be out of his sight.
Someone has to almost restrain him from experimenting too much on them, but he’s practically vibrating with excitement. Unexplored knowledge, something new for him to pursue. He decides to start off easy and safe, and by that he means taking MC into his room to have a deep interview session with them, not letting them go till they’ve told him every aspect of their lives up till now. Not only did he learn a lot about them that day, but he remembered that despite his vast knowledge...there was too much he didn’t know.
Their updated appearance didn’t change his feelings about them, and he’d control his curiosity for the most part on behalf of their sake...and health. Although, not even Diavolo himself could get rid of the temptation completely.
“MC!” Satan exclaimed, bringing in an armful of items into their room with a genuine gleeful curl to his lips. He set things down on their bed, items that...MC was wary about, but it was so difficult to deny him this when he was so elated about the whole thing. Plus, he’d given them endless hours of attention, and MC would be lying to themselves if they said they didn’t enjoy it. “Now, before we continue...what are your thoughts on poison?” Singling out a vial, he presented it to the exchange student. “Or rather, I suppose the proper term would be ‘being poisoned’.”
MC let out a loud exhale, shifting their shoulders as their wings twitched against them. “Satan, you know I’m very happy to help you with your research, but I’m not guzzling poison on the off chance that I have a resistance for it.”
He swiftly pulled out another tiny glass bottle. “Even if I have the antidote right here?” MC’s eyebrows lowered. “No? Alright,” Satan conceded, “We can come back to this later.” Next he put on a thick pair of oven mitts, pulling out a set of tongs as he tilted his head back and reached into the box. MC’s thoughts raced with ideas of what this dangerous item could be. And then...Satan pulled out a Holy Book.
“Wait, really? Just a book?” MC couldn’t help but huff over the irony of Satan being afraid of a book. “I’m pretty sure I’ve touched one before.”
His face scrunched up in annoyance at being teased. “It’s not just any old book, MC, it’s not like demons reel back at any mention of our father. This one has been blessed by Simeon.” The demon of wrath brought it over, holding it within reach. With that...MC hesitated a bit. They wouldn’t get burned right? They at one point had been blessed directly by the angel! Taking a deep breath, they held out a single finger, letting it drift slowly toward the cover. Breath held, teeth clenched, they touched the holy book with their fingertip. Nothing, not even a tingling sensation, however, in a bit of revenge, they reeled back, exclaiming as they cradled their hand near their chest.
Satan got so startled, he flung the book to the side, rushing over to grab MC’s wrist. “Hold on, hold on, let me see, let me-” He observed their skin, noticing no irritation, and then picked up on the mocking smirk on their face. Lowering his eyes and head, he took the hint. After all, even them just acting as if they were in pain reminded him that there was no way he could put them in danger. “You’ve bested me, no more tests…”
“No more dangerous tests,” MC corrected, watching him splutter as they booped the end of his nose with the finger they’d ‘burnt’.
Together, with his wits and MC’s patience, they’d discover what new surprises half-demon had to offer.
Asmo
Shrieking with surprise, Asmo nearly fainted. The sleek horns, the velvety wings! He’d already adored MC from the get-go but now he was obsessed. He ran over and jumped up and down in excitement, begging to touch their new features. With permission, he ran his hands all over them. The horns were smooth, sharp, but he could tell they weren’t as strong as they should be, like newborn demon horns. The wings were powerful, beautiful. He ran his hand over the sheer skin and heard MC gasp. Extremely sensitive, as they should be.
Did someone say shopping spree? Because he did! They’re going to need new clothes for their form. He can’t stand to see them try to tuck their wings under their usual shirts, and of course they’d have to replace a few outfit casualties as they’d been either rendered to shreds or riddled with holes. Getting stuff done with their new demon features is a whole new ballgame than they’re used to!
But they had nothing to worry about, Asmo is there to teach them all about their new body.
MC, of course, is a bit embarrassed at first, but without having anyone else to really depend on, and having zero knowledge on this type of stuff, they look to him for help with the delicate things. He helps them get dressed till they’re used to it. He helps wash and clean them, teaching them proper methods for horn and wing care/hygiene. Most of all, he really assures them that what they’re feeling is natural. Ever since the transformation, their wings have been twitchy and their horns have been infuriatingly irritated.
He sympathizes, he remembers what it was like, he remembers the shock of it all. If only he had someone there to help him and his brothers through it when they’d changed. He won’t let that stress happen to MC, it’s not healthy!
The scraping and scratching could be heard from outside their room. Asmo’s chest filled with pity. As he opened the door, he observed them rub their horns against the bed frame. Gashes and missing chunks ruined the carved wood. As much as it pained him, he found himself scolding the exchange student anyway. “MC!” He’d left for just a few minutes, a few! And already they’d begun to do exactly what he warned them not to do.
Eyes watery, they looked up to him with a painful expression on their face. “It won't stop, Asmo!”
He pursed his lips, unable to be too harsh when he knew how irritating growing horns could be. “I know, darling, but your poor bed!” Placing down the things he’d brought over, he squatted down in front of them and cupped their cheek as he turned their head from side to side. “And your poor horns!” The top thin layer coating the new pesky things sticking out of their head now had small splinters of wood stuck in them. He tutted at MC, glad he’d had the foresight to bring along tweezers. Gently, he guided them up to their bed, sitting behind them as he began to pluck the splinters out. Anytime his hands got close, MC instinctively moved to bump their horns against him. “Try not to move, darling, the faster I get these out the faster you’ll feel better.”
“I’m sorry, Asmo,” MC groaned, tightening their neck and shoulders as they focused on remaining still.
“Nothing to worry about, dear. You’re taking this new beautiful form of yours extremely well, all things considered.” Once the last sliver of wood had been removed, he brushed his hands over their smooth horns, rubbing the base of them between his fingers. They jutted their head against his hands, taking a deep breath at the sensation. But he wasn’t done yet, he’d brought over some special solution to encourage horn growth. Smearing the mixture in his hands, he then began to massage it into the new protrusions. They melted into his touch, grateful for some relief, but eventually gasping when the touch of his soft skin was exchanged with an odd firmness. Nearly purring, Asmo had changed into his own demon form to rub his horns against MC’s. It was like finally being able to scratch that one itch just out of their reach. “Better?” He cooed, giggling when all MC could do was hum in response, shifting their head up and down, faces side to side as they worked to rub their horns together at every angle.
Demon form? Human form? He loved MC either way with everything in between, and he hoped he could help them feel that way too.
Beel
He started off more concerned than anything. Was he one of the only ones upset that they had been locked away and almost attacked in order to get this result? In fact, while everyone was taking their time with their own reactions and revelations, he went over to MC and made sure they felt safe. They’d been frightened enough to change without meaning to, and the added swarm of information and the shock of the sudden change drove them into a fit. Making sure they were okay was more important than discussing their new looks.
Once everyone had settled and Beel made sure MC was home and comfortable, then he started thinking more about it. Does that mean they were stronger than normal humans? Could they start to do more things demons could do? He started thinking about all the foods he adored but were deemed poisonous to humans. Maybe they could eat those! He could share some of his favorites! But...he didn’t want to risk it.
Without knowing for sure what they could and could not handle, he’d continue to treat MC as if they were a normal human anyway, which MC greatly appreciated sometimes.
Although, Beel quickly discovered that continuing to act like MC was still a typical human...wouldn’t quite work out in his favor either. MC had quickly started to figure out what they were capable of, spiraling more and more out of control the more invincible they felt they’d become, which almost gave this boy a heart attack. Once, they’d figured out they could climb walls, but ended up getting their claws stuck in the ceiling and had to wait for Beel to tug them free. Another time, he’d walked in just in time, pulling MC away just before they could grab onto one of Satan’s cursed books.
He’d have to watch them like a hawk to make sure they didn’t accidentally dive headfirst into danger.
“Where’s MC?” Beel asked his twin, returning from a trip to the kitchen, the remnants of his snack still remaining on his chin.
Belphie looked up from his pillow, eyes still glazed over with sleep. “Hmm? Oh...they must’ve left.” As he yawned and blinked away tired tears, the demon of sloth shrugged. “Last I remember, they said something about wanting to pet a puppy.” Nestling back into his pillow, he grumbled. “But they know...Lucifer won’t let us have any...ani...” And then he was back asleep.
Beel wiped away the last few crumbs off his face, licking them off of his fingers before feeling a jolt of panic. No! Certainly MC hadn’t meant…! Bolting, he rushed past some of his brothers with the intensity and muscle of a charging bull. Luckily, he caught up to them just as they attempted to go inside the crypt that was home to big grumpy Cerberus. He didn’t even give MC a chance to notice him before he grabbed them by the back of their shirt and slung them over his shoulder, one arm pinning their wings to their back so they couldn’t struggle.
“B-Beel, wait! I just wanted to play with him! Hey! Hold on!” Their pleas were falling on deaf ears, but they were stronger than he remembered, allowing them to break free and leave him staggering for just a moment. That moment was long enough for them to fly up to the rafters, a frisky shimmer reflecting off their eyes.
Beel folded his arms, starting off with a stern stare. “MC, it’s too dangerous.”
“I can handle it! I know it! Please, Beel?” He watched them leap from beam to beam, his heart thumping wildly with every movement. “I just have this energy! This urge to do something crazy!” He blinked, taking in the words for a moment before realizing that all his hand-holding and protectiveness had stifled them and bottled up all their demonic urges till they finally boiled over. Everyone had been so focused on all the other aspects that he forgot how badly demons loved to just play.
His face fell as he felt disappointment in himself for not noticing soon enough. He needed to stop constantly fearing for them. Then, he raised his head, nodding to them as he spoke. “Tackle me,” he stated.
MC tilted their head. “What?”
“Tackle me. Come at me as hard as you can. You won’t hurt me, I promise.” MC took some time to think, before a lively smile formed on their face. They dived from the rafters towards him, skidding against the floor as Beel avoided them with a single side-step. Beel gave MC a moment to figure out that he’d dodged before running away. Of course, he wasn’t at his full speed, giving MC a chance to catch up easily. He’d almost made it all the way up to his own room before a heavy weight threw itself on his shoulders. It wasn’t enough to send him to the floor, but he had to catch himself from falling over. MC crawled over him, playful growls rumbling in their chest as they continued to try to force him to the floor. “Not quite,” Beel laughed, pulling them off of his body and placing them aside. “Let’s try again.”
Until it got out of they’re system, Beel hoped he could be a suitable replacement for all the chaotic things they wished to do.
Belphie
The first thing he did when he caught eyes on MC was blink and then sigh. What a crazy dream he was having. Getting trapped in the colosseum, almost getting mauled on by a fierce monster? And now MC was before him with wings and horns and Diavolo had just announced that he was essentially MC’s half brother? Yeah right. Someone needed to wake him up already, this dream was getting too weird.
It wasn’t till they all got home and got a good night’s sleep till he realized it was real. Waking up to go to breakfast and see that they still were having a hard time with their form? It wasn’t a dream...they were...half demon?
These crazy feelings and questions had already left him exhausted, and he just had gotten up from a solid 14 hours of sleep.
It takes him a while to adjust, after all, he’s got some baggage from events best-not-mentioned, and this new predicament has left him feeling pretty guilty. Although, something about it gives him hope. At one point, he’d adored the human world, and seeing that the human he’d begun to adore was also half demon? Maybe it was a sign that humanity wasn’t so terrible after all. Maybe Diavolo was right about the whole...peace between worlds thing, as tiring as it sounded. As long as he didn’t have to do much about it, he didn’t mind. It didn’t affect him much, right? He could still sleep. However...cuddling with MC now proved to be more of a hassle than usual. Whether their wings would pop out at random times and push him away, or their horns ending up almost poking an eye out, he wanted to find a solution quickly.
The one thing he refused to give up was comfortable naps with MC.
“Beeelllphiiie,” they whined. “I want to go to bed, this isn’t necessary.”
He ignored them, trying to push past the fact that he found them especially adorable when they were tired. But he felt it was absolutely necessary, after all, this was the third time those pesky horns of theirs nearly left a scratch mark on his cheek. He couldn’t believe how inconvenient this was for him. (He’s kinda a brat like that, but he does his best) He continued to work, pulling multiple fluffy socks over their horns, stuffed with layers of the filling from the pillow they’d accidently torn open. “I’m almost done.”
“Belphie!” MC shook their head, reaching up in an attempt to remove his work. “It feels weird.”
Grasping their wrists, he frowned. “So does getting poked with these in the middle of the night,” he quipped. His exasperation quickly turned into smug laughter as he observed his handiwork. With a palm, he squeezed the new protection over MC’s horns, unable to feel the sharpness of them.
MC vigorously shook their head again, but the padding stayed. “I don’t like it.”
“Then learn to control your form,” he retorted, dragging them back over to bed, holding in laughter again as they stumbled, the added weight to their head throwing them off balance.
They didn’t take kindly to all his back talk and cheekiness. Grabbing his pillow from their bed, they decked him over the head with it. “If you can’t be nice, you can leave,” MC huffed, crawling back into bed with their back turned to him, attempting to find a comfortable position. Their lack of decent sleep after this whole thing had happened had left them in a grumpy mood. That, and well, maybe he did push things too far.
“I’m sorry.” From sour to sweet in seconds. He sat on the bed, pressing his hand against their shoulder blades. “I know you can’t help it. It must be uncomfortable, huh?” He could recall what it was like, his horns and new tail had bothered him for quite some time after the change. He rubbed their back and shoulders, pleased with himself when MC turned over on their other side to face him.
“I’m so tired,” they whispered.
“I know.” Belphie pulled the covers back over them, settling in his own spot beside them before giving their fluffy horns one last squeeze. “Let’s get some sleep.”
If there was anything he could help with, it was the luxury of comfort. Until MC settles back into their own skin, he’ll make the transition as cozy for them as possible.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me belphie
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