#[Just the extent of pride and isolation those two have for them to be SO impacted by it that they develop their own coping and philosophies]

[burning-fcols]

( Tw: fatphobia, body image issues, panic attacks, just fucking fun depressing shit :,) ) Adam didn't care if some demon thought he was trash and beneath him. He was Adam. The original man, The Prince Consort of Hell, The Sin of Pride's only best Bitch. A title he wore in public shamelessly now that he's getting used to his new role. Because if that's all those fuckers would see of him, he was going the biggest, baddest bitch of all. It was just that one guy. That one colleague, friend, Fredrick von Fuckhisname, whoever the fuck that said something that...struck Adam in the moment. About how if it weren't for Heaven throwing him away literally onto Lucifer, forcing the King's hand to accept the former excorist into a binding agreement, Lucifer would never have chosen Adam. He would have wanted Lilith back without a second's hesitation. It brought Adam back to the beginning of where the root of all of his relationship problems began. Lucifer's betrayal, how both Lilith and Eve were gifts literally made for Adam but stolen just as easily by the very man he was wed to. How every relationship since his two wives was either a casual fling he made on the fly or assigned to Adam by someone else. The royal demon even went as far as to say that it was wonder how Lucifer was even tolerating Adam at all, that he could have anyone else. Extramarital affairs were not uncommon among hellion's royal couples after all. Fred went on about how "unattractive", "unintelligent" and uncharming Adam was, that he's hardly the picture perfect being he was in Eden. And how he was just a "burden" for Lucifer to carry, a literal heavy weight, ball and chain that the King had to carry or else more lives would be at stake. Lives that Adam previously would have no problem destroying in a sadistic form of vengeance against Lucifer and Lilith. Lives that to a certain degree, Adam still did not care for, only cared in how they applied to Lucifer and then Charlie by association. All of this accosted his mind as Adam froze, completely into an all on panic attack. This very sensitive nerve that was the root of all of his abandonment issues, all of his worst fears that were brought up to light in this one dinner party with that one fucker that knew exactly what he was doing by verbally hurting Adam. Away from everyone else where they didn't think the Sin of Pride could hear them. - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱᴍᴀɴ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 The Morningstars and the von Eldritch family have been closely associated for countless years at this point, Lucifer and Fredrick being on openly amicable terms. Their children had even dated for a time— the fathers eagerly conversing about how a wedding was likely in their future. Fredrick enthused about the political standing it would provide his family ( not that he mentioned it out loud ) and Lucifer at the thought of his daughter finding love. Hoping it was of a more stable sort than his own proved to be.

Unfortunately, things had ended poorly between the young couple; although Charlie never provided specifics and Lucifer never prodded her for them. Despite the newly-added strain, the families' connection had persevered. Fredrick wasn’t about to let the shortcomings of his son jeopardize his companionship with the ruler of Hell. Even after Lucifer become more isolated— with no Lilith or Charlie for him to plaster on a smile and parade himself around in public for anymore —the updates and invitations had not stopped. Unanswered and even unopened, Fredrick methodical in his attempts to remain a ❛ loyal ❜ companion to the elusive leader. In case there came a time when Lucifer resurfaced... and would need to see who was steadfast and who had wavered.

Imagine the von Eldritch's surprise when his latest dinner invitation had been responded to... and with a YES. For the King of Hell and the Prince Consort.

After going so long without the King's company, the extent of their relationship being cordial in its silence, it's no wonder Fredrick has become... emboldened. Especially with what he knows of Lucifer and Adam's torrid past. Nothing overly-revealing, but enough loose-lipped tidbits and depressed reminiscing for Fred to let his cunning fill in the blanks. Apparently well-enough to get quite the amusing reaction out of the King's plaything. Were this years ago, Fredrick would know better than to disrespect ANYTHING of Lucifer's. However unimportant or conditional it may seem from an outside perspective. Pride is a dangerous thing to bruise; the Sin of it even more dangerous when pushed too far.

Fredrick had pushed too far.

It happens without warning, the King of Hell appearing between Adam and Fredrick in a flash of Hellfire and a blink. Heat radiating from him with a scalding intensity, wings expand from behind him to bring the fallen angel directly face-to-face with his ❛ friend ❜ . As much as Lucifer may have parroted the word through the years, as much as Fredrick may have believed him, the King is not so easily deceived. More than aware of when he's being used for someone's personal gain and weighing when the perks are worth the price... Fredrick was never truly a threat and, despite his selfish intentions, he knew how to play his part well.

He was a convincing friend. Even enjoyable to be around... Charming and witty and desperate enough to suffer through whatever nonsense Lucifer saw fit. In a way, they were mutually using one another. Unfortunately for Fredrick, his usefulness is not valuable enough to tolerate such DISRESPECT.

❝ ₳₱ØⱠØ₲łⱫɆ. ❞ A deep, dangerous, guttural growl from the King's throat. When Fredrick opens his mouth— expression too confused, daresay offended, for whatever he says to be apologetic —Lucifer shoves his face in front of the other man's, voice now ECHOING through the sprawling manor as flames lick at the edges of his mouth, ❝ You have CLEARLY forgotten who you were talking to. I will not tolerate such things being said about my HUSBAND. So, you will apologize NOW or I will rip you to pieces right here in your own fucking home in front of all these guests. ❞

Needless to say... an apology was forthwith.

Not to the standards Lucifer would like ( Fredrick's curt regrets too tinged with bitter ego ) — withering glare making it clear this offense would NOT be soon forgotten —but he had more important issues to attend to. Lowering to the polished floor with a click of his heels, a portal appears behind him and his husband. Servants at the ready to help lead Adam through it, Lucifer offering his aid while keeping a snarl aimed at his long-time ❛ friend ❜ . One who has his own damage to deal with, whispers already circulating around the high-class crowd ( like the conniving vultures they are ) at Fredrick having fallen so horribly out of favor.

— ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ —

When in their manor, Lucifer had ushered the group Adam's room. Hoping the privacy and sense of ownership of the space would offer a comfort the vastness of their home may lack. Dismissing the servants once Adam had finally been calmed, Lucifer closes the door with a soft click. Fingers linger on the handle for a breath, eyes aimed at but not seeing it. Brows furrowed and gaze hard, he knows an important conversation lies ahead ( one he can NOT mess up )... Now that Adam is hopefully capable of having it. Fredrick's words had wreaked devastation upon the other's emotional state. Sucking in a sharp breath, Lucifer chokes down the beginning of a growl, forcing his crinkled expression to relax before he turns to Adam. Now is not the time for lingering anger on the others behalf.

Now is the time to see how his ❛ husband ❜ is doing... Taking a small step forward, unsure if he should breach the others space during this sensitive moment, a hand tentatively reaches toward out before retracting. Fingers curl inward, Lucifer opening his mouth before seeming to go back on what he was going to say; instead he quietly chimes an uncertain— ❝ ... Adam? ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴍʏ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴᴅ ❞ ¦ 「 Lucifer IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʜᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴀɴᴅ; ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʟᴇᴛ ɢᴏ ❞ ◌ ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ ¦ 「 Lucifer 」 #meansman #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴅɪᴄᴋ ❞ ¦ 「 Adam 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴄᴏʟᴅ; ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴇᴀꜱʏ ❞ ¦ 「 Lucifer and Adam 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[cuervolyx]

Why is there a Intelligence Department in the Military Police?

I don’t think I ever properly answered why the Military Police even have an Intelligence Department. So, it’s time to go into a bit of history of Nisara.

In ancient times, the Nisaran folks resided mostly on the Northern region, where the Raelian Mountains are. The reason they even lived there was because of their religious beliefs of being as close to the sky they can be. Why? Because they wanted to be close to the Spirit of the Moon and the Spirit of the Sun. However, it became difficult to live in such environment. Many moved to the Central and Southern parts of the island. Though, many remained in the mountains.

For centuries, the Nisarans of the Mountains did not interact with those outside of the mountain range. Nor did the Nisarans outside bothered to even visit due to the fact that the moutains are massive and easy to get lost to. Eventually, when the Central and Southern parts joined together to be an actual nation, they basically just said the Northern region belonged to the country. Those in the mountains could care less and didn't do anything about it. However, this ended their many years of isolation as the government sent some people to go into the mountains to check some things out and encourage the Mountain folks to move out, which didn't work.

However, the government realized something really quickly. Their years of separation had basically cause the people to be put into two groups: the Nisarans of the Mountains and the Nisarans of the Forest. The language was the first to be noted on how different it was. While the government refers to this as a dialect, it is basically it's own language. It is so diverged from Standard Nisaran that even those who lived close to the mountains could barely understand anything. The Mountain Folks (which is what they are referred as) even had their own alphabet (Note: I actually do have an alphabet made). Therefore, it was impossible to even talk to anyone from the Mountains. The government did not like this and tried to suppress the dialect. It was somewhat successful in the southern parts of the Raelian mountains. Though over time, the younger generations from that area began to learn Standard Nisaran due to the standarization of the language within education. Those in the inner parts of the mountains were much more stubborn and only teach in the dialect.

The culture also had differences, but were ones that were manageable by the government. The fact that the customs were more ancient became the pride of the government because it shows how different Nisarans were from other nations. So, no attempts to suppress this was made.

Now, finally we get to question: why does the Military Police have an Intelligence Department?

Well, it is only the Northern military bases that does have one. They have this because the National Intelligence Agency (NIA) do not have time to figure out the differences of the language and culture. The war has made it that they cannot afford to take time to study the language. That is where the MP Intelligence Department come in. They are at the heart of the dialect and culture, making it easier to study it. Also because they have much less duty than those in the Southern parts, they had the time to do so. Every member of the MP Intelligence Department has to learn the dialect, but even then only a 5%-10% can even understand very basic Raelian. However, anyone can study this dialect. It is just easier to learn it from this department. The reason why it is hard to even learn it is again the stubborness of the people. Due to the government attempts to suppress the dialect, they have become protective and refuse outsiders to learn it.

In my story, so far, only Eunkyu understands this dialect and speak it fluently. Why? His parents are from this region and took this language with them. Eunkyu (and Eunyeong) know Standard Nisaran to an extent due to other Nisaran immigrants. However, they are more fluent in their parents' dialect and luckily they were close to families from the same region. Hence, why there was little need to learn the Standard version of the language. They also liked how they could have more private converation as those in Athia barely even knew the Standard version. Later on in the story, Haoyu will also be able to understand the language way more due to Eunkyu teaching them and due to the fact they are already bilingual (they speak Esmyaen and Nisaran thus makes it easier to learn another language).

Why is the importance? The reason it is important is because it gives Chunhee a reason to even suspect Eunkyu because of the differences with the language (and culture) will make her wary of him. After all, he is the only one within the MP to be able to get close to the prisoners and the only one who knows the culture and language fluently. Btw: many within this region refuse to join the military because it breaks the "peaceful ways of the light" way of life.

Fun fact: for a long time, Eunkyu didn't speak in the military because of the vast difference of the language and the fact that he still understood Standard Nisaran. It wasn't until Eunkyu introduced himself to the MP force that everyone realized why he didn't speak (and he only spoke because he thought Haoyu (who is learning the language) knew the dialect because they said a few words in the dialect). (Note: I want to draw a mini comic about it, but I hate drawing comics haha).

#worldbuilding for my story #eunkyu #haoyu #information on Nisara #expanding on one part of the response to the last question

[cookinguptales]

Helloooooo I'd like a reading with the pulp tarot deck please! Thanks :) 🧿♍

No problem!

(Six of Pentacles, The World, The Hermit)

Huh... Odd spread...

Okay, let's try to puzzle this out together.

The first two cards are cards of connection and connectivity. The last one, though, is one of isolation. Not a bad isolation, but isolation nevertheless.

The Six of Pentacles is a card of giving, receiving, and charity. Not necessarily money; this could be about time, money, attention, effort, whatever. It's just about the transactions that we all live with, y'know?

Maybe you're in a good position and you can give back. Maybe right now you're the one in need of a little help. There's no shame in it either way; our world is a connected one and we all need to give sometimes and we all need to receive. The card just tells you to be mindful of the balance in the end (as seen on the giver's hand in this version of the card) and to make sure you're not always giving or always taking.

The Six of Pentacles can sometimes be a gentle chastisement about giving or taking too much, or on the flip side, giving or taking too little due to greed or pride. But with The World coming next, a card about completion and connections and seeing the way that every part of our world is woven together, I think this is really just reminding you that we all interact like this. We are all constantly giving and taking. Love, attention, material possessions. We all need things sometimes, and we all need to give. It's what makes us human.

So if you feel the need to donate right now -- good! If you are sorely in need of help -- don't feel bad! We all find ourselves on one side or the other of this eventually, and we all have things that we can both give and receive. Human relationships are transactional, to some extent, but we can delight in the giving and taking. Those ties can hurt us or they can make us stronger, but either way, that's part of being human.

Finally, though... The Hermit. This is the odd part. So much of the rest of this is about connectivity and the relationships we have with others, but The Hermit... It's about needing to get away from it all and meditate in private. It's about closing your eyes and taking a deep breath and thinking the deep thoughts you can only think sometimes when you are alone.

In conjunction with the Six, The World feels like it's emphasizing connectivity. But I suppose The World does have a secondary meaning, aside from fulfillment and interconnectivity. The World can also be about the world in a more literal sense: travel and seeing everything this planet has to offer. So... perhaps that's where this is going in conjunction with The Hermit. Two sides of the same coin, I guess.

Maybe this card is telling you to get out and see things for yourself, to experience what the world has to offer for the solo traveler. To absorb and understand deeper ideas while left to your own thoughts. But even as you travel alone, you'll be in a world full of others.

So... putting it all together... I'm thinking this spread is about self-discovery and experiencing new things, but making sure you remember that other humans exist and your ties with them are healthy. You can be alone in a crowd of people, but you can also carry the comforting weight of others when you're all by yourself.

The World is about balance and completion, and maybe that's the key here. Balancing human relationships but also being alone.

(Or, idk, maybe I'm just waxing poetic and this is telling you to stop panhandling as you backpack across the world. Or to start. idk man, it's your life.)

#tarot shenanigans

[dc-ocs-200x]

FILE

Trigger Warnings: Past of living in slavery and abuse of all kinds following said slavery, only touched on briefly in the beginning of the Backstory (May eventually delve deeper into specific abuse in a psychoanalysis).

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

General Information

Name: Pride "Athena"

Nickname: Ann, Thena, Ena, Thea, Pride and joy

Age: Melinia years worth though physically appears about 21/22

Species: Embodiment of Pride, immortal being, once was human

Gender: AFAB, identifies as female

Pronouns: She/her/hers

Sexuality: Lesbian

D.O.B: November 14th

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio ♏️

Alignment: Overall Nuetral Nuetral

Classification: Beta-Caregiver

Physical Appearance

Skin Color: White

Hair Color: Blonde

Hair Style: Curtain bangs or split down the middle, hair is very long reaching her lower back and appears curly if not unruly, occasionally has some extra pieces of her bangs tied up in two smaller pigtails on the sides of her head

Eye Color: Purple

Wears: Pride likes a combination of professional and cute, so her go to is frilly button ups, shirts that hang off her shoulders, or regular button ups with a thin bow tie, in regards to her bottoms she is content to wear whatever matches having no direct preference between skirts and pants, she also very, very often has a hair accessory like a bow or flower crown, and other various items.

Personality

Personality: On the surface, Pride is (as her title suggests) is very prideful and confident. While loving the appraisal of others, she will not hesitate to flip into a full bitch with the wrong word against her or her pride, having no issues breaking someone else down (especially verbally) should they hurt her or her family in any sense of the word. While she carries herself as needing no one, all these traits are just surface level. Upon breaking past this, there's still a broken little girl scarred from a childhood of degradation, being used, and pain, desperate to simply be seen as a 'good girl' and to please. Surprisingly, a lot of her smiles are forced or fake, not wanting to worry others but always having an impending sense of doom following her wherever she goes, that said they're still beautiful smiles. A creature of nature and very obedient, Pride does extremely well at following directions and honestly feeling more comfortable in that kind of setting. Like all the sins, to an extent, Pride is extremely curious especially in the worlds around her while not one to ask thounds of questions, she is extremely content to sit and listen to things for hours at a time.

Likes: Flowers, hair accessories, being called a 'good girl', praise, dancing (especially ballet and slow dancing), going for walks

Dislikes: Bee stings, isolation, rudeness (especially unprompted), bringing up her past, swimming in deep water

Fears: Drowning, humiliation, being stung by anything, being abandoned

Quotes

Quote 1: "They told us they wanted us to be proper, especially when.... guests were around."

Quote 2: "He's pretty. Nice to meet you Envy."

Quote 3: "Before I get too mean and take it out on you... and your best friend too.."

Quote 4: "No! I wanted to forget those things! Don't uncover them! I don't want these terrible memories anymore!"

Quote 5: "Oh, I wouldn't know, I've never stood behind a man."

Quote 6: "Doesn't mean you haven't been through stuff. They definitely didn't pick up any 'no trauma' kids... when yours gets bad.... I wanna be there. I wanna help."

Quote 7: "Its possible. I'll have to look into the book later.... right now... my girlfriend and I are doing our hair. Would you like to join us?"

Quote 8: "So this part of the book are family trees... we three are all on the same family tree... so that means..."

Relationship with Other Characters

Lust "Darcey": They like each other fine, bonding over a certain kind of shared trauma, similar care to their appearances, they throughly enjoy each other's company, Lust proving to be a remarkably well listener, there's also playful banter back and forth.

Gluttony "Nyx": Very protective of Nyx as she is the youngest, Pride greatly tried to embrace her big sister role and teach Gluttony as much as she could (though the young girl likely already knew more than Pride due to a favoritusm from Cain), even now she keeps to her older sister role gossiping and listening whenever the younger girl wants.

Wrath "Lucias": One of the few family members she doesn't feel she needs to necessarily protect, though make no mistake, she still won't tolerate slander against its name. Like with many of the sins and Wrath, they have a sibling relationship.

Envy "Raven": Of the other sins in the home, Pride is closest to Envy, the two perceiving each other as a very close brother and sister relationship (though they both had Cain and Abel fooled into believing they would be together in a relationship for years).

Sloth "Salem": Being the closest in age with Sloth, Pride gets along with them very well, perceiving herself as older than him, she often will protect her to the best of her ability.

Greed "Lux": Pride tends to take things easy on Greed, while his personality of a spoiled child can get annoying, she also realizes that he can't just turn it off, considering their ages, she easily just sees him as a typical baby brother.

Cain: On the surface they seem to have a typical niece and uncle relationship (one of noticing her when it's convenient for Cain) but Cain is much more proud of Athena than he bothers to let on, similarly, Pride embraced some behaviors of Cain's very naturally making her act most like him between the uncles, Cain initiated the nickname of 'Pride and Joy' as a joke to her title.

Abel: Much like with the other sins, Abel is much more openly affectionate towards Pride and has no qualms feeding her ego every now and again, insisting it's 'in her nature to have it stroked now and then, and he isn't going to break natural nature taking its course'. Because of this, Pride has a big tendency to be very sweet towards her dear Uncle Abel, following his instructions much more eagerly and trust him with more secrets of hers, him being the first adult she came out to, quickly followed by Cain.

Lucifer: Much like Abel, Pride trusts Lucifer much more than she should, despite all the warnings and supposed awful stories Uncle Cain tells her, Lucifer has a tendency to lightly disregard Pride seeing her as a young child that they need to guide and often finding amusement in the things she says despite her being their sin barer and the face as the ruler of the Fraud ring of Hell.

Freyja: Freyja is easily the love of Pride's life, she gets to see a side of her than no one else does, there isn't a thing in the world Pride wouldn't do for Freyja, and what makes the relationship even better is the attitude is returned something that makes Prise feel extremely special, the two are an amazing balance for each other.

Mina: Adores Mina for the fact that she takes care of Greed, of the sins, he was the one he was most worried about getting a partner and regular life, still, she offers her girl time with her, Freyja, and Gluttony knowing Greed can be a bit much at times.

Backstory

Athena was born in France in 1793, a year before slavery was abolished the first time in France. As a result, she was sold into slavery as a very young child, her first major advocate for this being her father (her mother didn't really care either way, simply pleased that this plan meant she could return to the pampered lifestyle she'd led beforehand). Athena was used and abused in various ways throughout her life time until she was about 8-years-old when two men with horned hair bought her. Athena expected the same routine as all her masters before this, however, the two men (Cain and Abel) had other plans. They got her accustomed to the house, themselves, and the five other children living there, then started the immortality process. Athena was one of the children that was hit with the sickness that came with the immortality done in the ritual way. Once healed up, Athena led a childhood as happy and as indulged as the other sins. When she came out of the closet, she carried our very few romantic endeavors until meeting Freyja. The two dated for a few years before deciding to spend their future together for all eternity, Cain and Abel agreeing to make Freyja immortal as well.

Extra Information

Athena has embraced the mortal emotions to the bare minimum. She wants to be accepted and loved by the mortal population and to understand them on some level, but she also doesn't want to be reliant on their praise and approval.

One of the few kids in the House of Mystery and Secrets who's Adoption day falls close to her actual birthday, her Adoption day being celebrated November 11th.

Has a quirk of messing with the ends of her hair in many emotions (i.e. nervous, shy, distracted, etc.).

Was a thumb sucker when she first arrived to the houses, however, Cain quickly broke the habit with the hot sauce trick, while it broke the thumb sucking she did, notably mess with her hair in more situations as if making up for the habit through that.

The mere suggestion of her causing a public humiliation is enough to send her into a panic attack. Another bad trigger for her is her head going under water.

Despite being the sixth child obtained, Pride is the third oldest child (and same age as Sloth).

Adores her Uncle's haircuts and has often attempts to style hers to have the horn shape just like theirs.

As mentioned, her nickname 'Pride and Joy' was started by Cain and easily picked up by Abel. It started as a poke to her sin title of Pride. Despite the nickname being used in a teasing manner most of the time, she still adores the name because she believes it's hers and hers alone which makes it utterly special to her.

Speaking of names, like many of the children, Pride came not knowing her real name hence the need to pick one for herself outside of Pride. Abel helped her find it and Cain had agreed with great humor seeing as Nyx was also named after a goddess and the delightfully morbid humor of the name of a great goddess being given to a girl who once was but a lowly slave. Abel eventually mended his brother's thinking for the little girl's sake, explaining it was a symbol of her transition from a slave to something destined to do great things.

Her tattoo that sealed in her immortality is on the back of her left shoulder.

Being stung by a bee was the first type of pain she felt after being rescued and settled in the house hence her fear. It also made her dislike bees for a while until bring taught that they took care of the flowers she loved so much.

Pride's powers include having a deep influence on a person's self esteem, she can make someone more confident or making them feel like utter shit, which goes well with her ability to go right for what makes a person insecure.

Eventually has a child with Freyja, a little girl named Juno.

While not having her first name when she first was rescued, she was recognized by her last name (the name she was called when she was called a bane rather than slave, girl, etc). Her last name was Lemarie.

Is a very long, distant relative to another OC of mine and my friend's Oliver and Lucy Quinzel (and Harley Quinn by default of those two), this was through a sister she never knew she had until meeting the two younger blonde's.

While also being Lucifer's sin barer for Pride, Athena also is the ruler of the Fraud ring of hell.

Playlist

Perfect Isn't Easy, Bette Milder, 2:57

Show And Tell, Melanie Martinez, 3:35

Labour, Paris Paloma, 3:57

Candy Store, Jessica Keenan Wynn, Alice Lee, & Elle McLemore, 2:51

What The World Needs, Tiffany Tatreau, 3:03

Picrews made of her

One of my favorite Tik Toks of her (picked officially by the random choice generator out of 3 videos total as I couldn't pick)

Pride first coming to the home, and recieving likely her first compliment.

[dishtothedeath]

Shared Sentiment | Liêm | Trial 6.1 | MM + Producer React

The sight of Yukari in such resplendent regalia was, in the kindest way Liêm could put it, utterly sickening. The sight of Tsuki, regal and aloof, even more so. He didn't want to see either of them dressed so lovely, so refined, not when everything they'd done was utterly foul. Brown eyes snapped closed to steady himself.

Both of you had the gall to act so betrayed, all those eternities ago. He'd been a fool to care at all.

You, in particular, told him you hoped death was kinder to him than life was. He'd suspected, then, the extent of her duplicity. The movement of her hand in all these affairs. But knowing now didn't ease the sting or lessen the ache. Especially now when he sees those words hadn't been for his sake. They'd just been for your comfort. A way to alleviate your own burden of guilt, wash your hands in brine and try to ignore the glassen, hollow eyes staring back at you from the corpses at the bottom of the pool.

Death wasn't kinder, he wanted to lash out. This was no mercy you've granted, and how dare you even try to feign otherwise. You took everything from him - his life, his dignity, his agency, his humanity. Every bit of him he bore with pride, stripped clean to the bone, the remains tossed overboard. Denied the privilege to reunite with his brother in life, barred from returning to him in death, if, indeed, that's where he ended up - he's stuck in between, baited on a hook, gasping for breath, stuck in a stasis between life and death, and it occurs to him, then, that wherever he might find his brother, Liêm couldn't even greet him as himself.

Whatever abomination you made of him, he wasn't Liêm in flesh and blood. When Liêm saw his brother again, if such wishes could be granted, he'd be only an afterimage. An afterthought.

He couldn't even cry. Something glitched in his system and distorted the image. Brief flashes of a bleak, sobbing form, glaring murder, radiating anger, wallowing in despair were mere ghost sightings - momentary hauntings, gone in the blink of an eye, replaced by Liêm's gentle, smiling visage. Because what else could he be allowed to do but whatever they pleased? What other parts of him had been carved from his chest, scraped off his ribs? What else could you take? What else could you justify to yourself by convincing yourself that somehow, someway, death was the best alternative for him?

He doesn't speak, won't speak because he can't trust himself. But deep brown eyes, almost black, flick open, and there's a million things to say, as Inigo had said, but not one breaches the surface. He's tight-lipped as a clam. What good will his words have, regardless? Who will listen? Who wanted to listen? His words hold no weight, buoyed to insignificance. Swaddled in an isolation by his own design, he's aware he had no right to complain now. No choice but to sink farther. Drown again. All the way to the trenches where there's a primal sort of darkness that he feared to touch, and it was slipping through the cracks. And it whispers. And it calls in something not unlike a siren song.

It all pitches and keels, battering the sides, and he feels himself breaking apart - but he doesn't move an inch. He stands, still, firm, there's no change in him.

The light won't reach this deep. Forgiveness won't reach this deep. Humanity can't reach this deep.

He says nothing. He draws no attention. This isn't his moment. And he didn't want to speak when he'd receive no meaningful response.

But he hopes they both die.

The two of them and every last one responsible. It's a childish thought, like a tantrum. He wants everybody to shut up, it's all loud. It's all too much. Particularly, those wishing to salvage the lives of those present needed to pound sand to glass. 

He's never wished something so vile. It suited his brother more. Bian wore cruelty like a faded sweater, well-worn and loved; it was always so small on someone like Liêm. Suffocating and stifling. but it's an urge he can't suppress. He hopes they rot until there's nothing, just the same as he had been. The same as he was now.

Apologies mean nothing. Excuses were nothing.

Because there's nothing anyone can do to fix this.

It's not so bad a wish, he thinks, staring through the producer and the director. As though staring at something behind them; the people he'd thought they been. The sort of people he'd been so ashamed to hurt and disappoint. Such bullshit.

It should have been you, both of you, before any of them.

It's not so cruel a thought, he figures, imagining all the ways they should be brought to suffer before snuffing out the breath in their lungs as he waited for an explanation that wouldn't make any of this right or okay.

Who knows? It might be a mercy.

Maybe death would be kinder to them than life had been.

#submission #reaction #trial #liem

[shihalyfie]

The meaning of the Beast Spirits in Frontier, and what it means to control it

(On request by @digitalgate02​.)

When you think about it, Frontier can be framed as a story of outcasts or misfits having to accept the idea of “changing themselves” in order to become better people, both literally in the sense of embracing physical transformation, and metaphorically in the sense of making attempts to do better. Implicitly, it speaks a lot as to how quickly these kids accept the idea of turning into something else -- perhaps implying as to how ostracized they’ve felt that such a thing instantly sounds appealing -- but it also adds some interesting layers to the concept of the Beast Spirit and how the difficulty of “controlling it” ties into each character’s personal story.

I think a lot of it has to do with the idea that these kids did have inclinations of being selfish or shallow at the beginning -- while they were full of potential to become heroes, they definitely started off as unlikely misfits at the beginning. In that respect, you can see the Beast Spirits arc as a sort of lesson that great power must be used wisely and responsibility...

Believe it or not, our biggest clue to all of this comes from episode 16, Izumi’s episode. It’s not directly stated in words, and the abstract summary of “determination” is passed off as a joke, but looking at the context clues around the episode indicates that’s actually not far off.

The thing is that Calmaramon is depicted as having the hardest time with her Beast Spirit compared to practically about anyone else in the group, and one of the recurring themes about it is that it’s partially because her personality is downright terrible. If you look at the context clues behind the prior episode (15), you’ll notice that while her looks are briefly brought up as an issue there and in this episode, the part that’s really freaking everyone out (and is making everyone worried Izumi will turn out to be the same) is that they actually saw it have an impact on her personality, where she was clearly conscious and able to talk but also indiscriminately destroying everything and enjoying it. At least in the case of Kouji, Takuya, and Junpei, they can be forgiven because they all did their best to keep it under control after the initial fallout, but Ranamon changing into Calmaramon had also involved her becoming someone actively reveling in senseless destruction. When everyone worries that Izumi might turn out like that, they don’t even bring up looks at all, and they all recoil when she does start showing signs of being destructive anyway.

The thing is, the entire rest of the episode puts a massive spotlight on Izumi’s actions of standing up for the Gomamon and empathizing with their loneliness (which, given the contexts added about Izumi’s background and backstory in episodes 8 and 26, are most likely her feeling that the concept of “being isolated from others no matter how much you want to reach them” hit way too hard for her) to the point she puts her foot down to override the boys’ prior plan of chasing the Toucanmon and their Digivices. She actually faces quite a bit of protest from the boys on this issue, and even admits she’s not sure if her own plan will work, but focuses on the idea of doing her best to undo the whirlpool with her abilities -- that is to say, using her power to protect and help others.

This sentiment of “I have to protect everyone” drives Izumi’s actions for the rest of the episode, to the point it’s the only thought consuming her head right before she finds and claims her Beast Spirit. So to make it clear, at the time she claimed it, the thought of “protecting others” was desperately, single-mindedly consuming her head...

...and the contrast is immediately apparent when Shutumon emerges, and the only thing Ranamon cares about is looks.

In other words, the reason the Beast Spirit wasn’t working out for Ranamon/Calmaramon is that she only wanted the Beast Spirit’s power for the sake of pride, vanity, and dominating others, and because of that, she had difficulty controlling it because it resonated with those feelings -- after all, although she wanted to “control” it to the extent of not carrying her all over the place, she was perfectly fine with the part about causing wanton destruction. Izumi, on the other hand, is clearly holding herself back even after her first evolution to Shutumon -- trying to keep a calm head -- and, after all, her entire motivation had been driven by “helping and protecting others” for the whole episode, so she doesn’t want to let this fail on her now, and she keeps that calm head all the way throughout the rest of it.

When we get to the next episode (17), you’ll also notice that one of the first things Blizzarmon (Tomoki) does is actively attempt to restrain himself. If you look back at what Tomoki’s character arc is about, he’d spent the better part of his past being bullied by others and tossed around, so “overpowering the weak” is the last thing Tomoki ever wants to do (especially given the events of this episode, as well). So, having witnessed the potential consequences of the Beast Spirit with the other boys, it stands to reason that Tomoki would want to avoid “hurting others” so much that restraining this would be a strong priority for him. While it’s commented that it does take his personality out of control a bit, the worst it ever gets is that he seems to be overly elated and cheerful about his defeats, but that’s also in line with Tomoki constantly having been pushed down so much during his life that you can imagine he’s enjoying the opportunity to finally be strong and have the spotlight.

But because he hates the concept of bullying and pushing others down so much, it stands to reason that he wouldn’t really have as much of a problem with that.

So when you look back at the prior episodes with the Beast Spirits with this context, you can see it applying there as well. In episode 14, Junpei was spending the better part of the first half of the episode livid at what was happening to his friends -- absolutely pissed at Grottomon for taking Izumi's spirit (and, despite Izumi's doubts, it's pretty apparent he actually does care about it beyond just having a crush on her), and then upset at the idea of being a sitting duck while Agnimon and Wolfmon are getting tossed around. While Junpei initially has trouble keeping the Spirit under control, the exact moment he gets a grip on himself is the moment he reaffirms his determination to fight for the sake of his friends.

Looking back at the other two episodes about rampaging Beast Spirits in episodes 10 and 12, you can also see why the concept applies there as well. It’s interesting how the “worst” rampage shown among the main protagonist Beast Spirits was not the first one obtained (Garmmon) but the second one (Vritramon), and if you look at the circumstances surrounding them, it doesn’t seem to mean as much about Takuya having any particular stronger tendency towards condescending violence as much as the sheer circumstances that went on behind them:

Kouji obtained his Beast Spirit under the circumstances of already knowing that he needed to protect Gotsumon with that power (and, moreover, having spent the end of the prior episode and the duration of the beginning of this one mulling on Ophanimon’s warning that he’d need to “grow” before he could obtain it). Therefore, “using this power for the desire to protect others” was a huge thought in his head from the very beginning, even though -- presumably partially because this was a first time for everyone -- it threw him off just enough for him to end up exhausting himself.

Takuya obtained his without warning and without proper understanding of what he was dealing with, having had it practically forced on him after Shamamon-as-Vritramon’s defeat, and so, with no context of purpose and no real depth of what he was about to get into, he ended up on a complete destructive rampage. He was snapped out successfully by the need to not hurt someone (Tomoki), and spent the rest of the episode agonizing and mulling over the risks and meaning of having such power before he eventually evolved into Vritramon without too much issue the second time.

So the point is made clear: the “destructive” and “uncontrollable” impulses associated with the Beast Spirits will be sent out of control if the user doesn’t have a strong desire to use it with proper purpose. For Ranamon/Calmaramon, she had the worst time with it because she was the single most obsessed out of the Legendary Warriors to use it to stroke her own ego and vanity, whereas at least the other three Cherubimon-allied ones (besides Duskmon -- see below) were at least capable of using it towards a greater goal, and the remaining five went through the proper outlets of thinking about how this power should be used and how it shouldn’t be used lightly.

While the issue of the Beast Spirits being inherently difficult to control isn’t as prominent as we go later into the series, we do actually see shades of it when we get to the tale of Kouichi/Duskmon/Velgrmon, because while part of it can be chalked up to the power of darkness being consuming, Kouichi, during his first transformation to Velgrmon in episode 30, is only able to talk barely coherently and is really just venting his rage and anger out, presumably because his entire state of mind is locked into all of that, making the rampage even worse. (Also keeping in mind the theme of embracing the idea of changing yourself, you can also think of this in terms of how Kouichi is getting so consumed by his own emotions of anger that he’s become almost completely unrecognizable from his original self.)

Once we get his first “proper” evolution in episode 33, however, Kouichi is abundantly aware of what he’s done and has all of the proper determination to never let such a thing happen again -- so it’s not surprising that his evolution to KaiserLeomon happens with relatively little incident.

#digimon #digimon frontier #shihameta

[vina-writes]

Ten Favorite Drarry Fic Recs

I’ve reached a bit of a follower milestone, and I thought, why not celebrate? I’m happy! This is an incredible feeling that I honestly can’t fully articulate in writing. Knowing someone enjoyed my work and presence enough that they’d want to be notified if I posted again just makes me squeal and want to hug everyone from joy!! Thank you to anyone who has ever left me kudos, a comment, a tag, a note, an emoji, a tag emoji!! I am endlessly grateful to you all for this support and kindness.

Now, since it’s party time, I’ve compiled a personal list of my ten favorite Drarry fics to share the love. This is by no means a stamp of quality (as there are thousands of brilliant fics out there) and neither is it a guarantee that these are everyone’s cup of tea. But they are certainly my cup of tea— my whole buffet honestly.

I chose fics that made me feel deeply. Fics that made me cry, laugh, throw my phone, squeal and wiggle and dance at the end. These (mostly) weren’t fics which answered deep philosophical questions. They were fics which instead showed me love and adventure, joys and betrayals, misunderstandings and occasionally unbelievable (but appreciated) levels of smut (you know who you are). These are stories I read to be entertained, entranced, delighted, and happy. These are stories that made me feel in love.

In honor of that (and of my Canva addiction) I’ve made little banners for each. I hope they do some justice to these works. I’ve tried to capture the feeling of each fic in just one image. Without further ado, read on to find out exactly what my guilty pleasure (as if Drarry isn’t enough) is:

The Songbirds of Avebury Manor by Tessa Crowley [E, 18k] 

Summary: Harry Potter presents as alpha at fifteen, and it is supposed to change his life for the better. Instead, it leads him to a beautiful noble omega he cannot have, a political plot he cannot escape, and a threat on his life.

This story. Oh my stars, this story. What can I even say to properly express how I feel about it? This is the Romeo and Juliet, the Pride and Prejudice, the Hades and Persephone of Drarry. Reading this made me feel like an unwedded Victorian lass waiting for her Prince Charming. It’s a wonderful Historical AU that throws around power dynamics and questions of who is worthy of love, freedom, and respect despite them. This is a brilliant portrait of deep romantic love. Harry’s dedication to Draco is all-encompassing, beautiful, intense, intimate— earth shattering, really. The way they fall in love despite class and situation made me want to cry and write poetry. This is a true fairytale romance.

The Pirate and the Prince by @nerdherderette​, maniacani [E, 49k]

Summary: Draco can't believe that fate and circumstance have made him a stowaway on the Master of Death's ship. He doesn't know what's worse: the dread pirate's legendary vendetta against the aristocracy, or the fact that his captor is the most infuriating yet irrefutably fascinating man Draco has ever met.

The moment I started this story I knew it was going to be an instant favorite. It’s swashbuckling, debonair yet disheveled, dangerous, fun, adventurous— everything you could desire from a romance on the high seas! Though they come from very different backgrounds, this Draco and Harry are a power couple to the core. Their romance is once again beautiful, intense, and dedicated, but this time it’s mixed with a healthy dose of self-exploration and mutual acceptance. But apart from romance this fic holds delicious secrecy and identity issues, an astounding knowledge of sailing ships, plenty of piratey shenanigans, some heart-wrenching found family dynamics, a cursing parrot, and a glorious angst with a happy ending finale! 

Soup-pocalypse and the Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats [E, 104k]

Summary: Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

What can I say about Soup-pocalypse? It will lure you in with tales of Veelas and romance, and then it will kidnap you and throw you in cooking class and therapy. You’ll come out wondering what just happened and how two days have passed. There will, of course, be Veelas and romance aplenty, but it will be a caring romance, a familial romance, a supportive and kind and nurturing romance. This story feels like family, good cooking, sunny days, the deep heartbreak of change, and through all of it, the truth of a real and solid partnership. This is the humorous yet angst-ridden tale of two idiots learning to love as adults, and then in turn learning to face the world together.

you’ve got the antidote for me by Kandakickass [M, 20k]

Summary: When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want.

He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.

Right then. On to the angstiest story I’ve ever read and truly enjoyed. Not just enjoyed, adored! Worshipped! Come back to time and again whenever I needed a good cry! Here is the beauty of it: this fic is deeply painful and heartbreaking, yet it steers clear of emotions like disgust and discomfort. Never once was it disturbing— only sorrowful, in the purest and most heart-wrenching way. Yet despite the pain strung throughout the majority of it, this fic left me feeling relieved and rejuvenated, the way one feels after crying their heart out over something simple. It’s an emotional release that does not leave you broken.

On the Last Day of Our World by Sansa [E, 84k]

Summary: During a detention, Harry and Draco get locked in a strange room together overnight. When they escape the next morning, they discover they are alone. Love, angst and adventure abound as they struggle to survive in an empty world.

Truly one of my favorite takes on canon divergence. Truly. This is an exploration of isolation and the joys and comforts that come with it. It is the power couple Drarry to rule them all— a Draco and Harry so strongly connected, in love, and attuned to one another that the world could fall at their feet. This story leaves you on the edge of your seat until the very bitter end— one of those where the second things are briefly peaceful the world goes up in a new set of flames. Those of you who daydream about a partnership that needs no others, two souls who are each other’s family, friend, and future, and would gladly abandon everything to spend eternity alone together: this is for you.

The Arc of the Pendulum by brummel [E, 30k]

Summary: After his father casts a mysterious curse on Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy is forced to try to make things right.

Yes. YES. YES!!! The Beauty and the Beast take you didn’t know you needed! Still canon-compliant to an extent, this is realistic and raw and incredible. Draco makes the choice to help Harry here, and the vulnerability of their interactions while Harry struggles with the curse is everything you could hope it to be. There’s a distinct fairytale atmosphere in this fic— both of them confined together, finding support and comfort in one another while struggling through the effects of the curse, and falling in love along the way. I could write sonnets about the ending using my tears for ink, but they shan’t be revealed here.

Picking Up Pieces by Tessa Crowley [E, 43k]

Summary of Part One: Fifteen years after the War, Draco is a social recluse and award winning author. Harry is an auror who works too hard, ensuring his old war wounds never heal. They meet at a masque ball, unaware of each other's identities. In another situation, it would have been love at first sight. But for them, it would never be so simple.

Picking Up Pieces deserves no introduction, but if you haven’t read it yet, please find a blanket, and cup of tea, and a quiet place to read, cry, and recover. I sobbed my little heart out through the entire second half— the tears were really never ending. How does it end up on a reclist by a fluff lover like me? The answer is similar to Antidote— though this story broke me apart, it was never twisted nor ugly, never disturbing. It was an incredibly touching tale of redemption, forgiveness, human nature, and recompense. The writing does put you through the emotional wringer, but it leaves you relieved and whole. I would lay down my life for this Draco. He truly needs to be protected and loved at all costs. Even though I’m usually careful when recommending heavy stories, I would encourage everyone to read this— it made me feel new, it made me feel like I’d spent an hour crying in the shower, but most of all, it really did make me happy.

Two Trees by LakeWitch [E, 36k]

Summary (shortened): In his Eighth year at Hogwarts, part of Draco Malfoy's probation is to see a Mind Healer once a week. Another part, unfortunately, is having to take Muggle Studies.

It wouldn't be so bad, really, if it weren't for the mandatory outing—a 'field trip'—booked at a Muggle lakeside retreat for the better part of five days. [...] Draco is determined to get it all over with as painlessly as possible. He'll keep his head down, and stay out of everyone's way. That is, until Pansy tells him—at the very last moment—that she's schemed to have Draco stay in the same room with Potter for the whole trip.

Just the two of them... in one room.

This is the comfort fic of all comfort fics. It feels like camping, like sitting by a lake in the sun, like marshmallows over a fire and sparks against a starry sky, and cool, feather-soft hotel sheets. Draco is dealing with several different anxieties here, but the brilliant setting and easy plot turn them into a cathartic read. This is a fic about young love and the ability to build bonds on trips. It made me remember my first crushes and the feeling of getting breakfast in a hotel lobby. There’s cuddling, there’s love, there’s some highly emo Draco (both warranted and unwarranted), and there’s a truckload of nature. Go read it!

Your Place Or Mine? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark​ [E, 26k]

Summary: "This person is so much harder to hate. And I’m supposed to hate Malfoy. How the fuck else am I supposed to limit this to just sex?" 

At first I was like, “Damn, Harry,” but then I was all, “Damn Harry!” but then I went, “DAMN Harry!” (interspersed with a lot of whistling and cursing). I could have slapped him, and you will want to. This is another Draco that deserves endless love and hot chocolate, with a Harry that deserves a good smack. I think about this fic weekly, and not just because it’s endlessly hot— although it is scorching hot, like how do you even write something that hot type of hot. Draco’s pining and Harry’s stupidity makes for the angstiest yet most satisfying friends-with-benefits-but-really-there’s-more combination, and the climax (pun intended) and resulting spill of emotions is everything anyone could hope for. Ten out of ten.

The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth by @cibeewastaken​ [T, 19k]

Summary (shortened): Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved!

So Draco decides to boldly go where no one has gone before: to put himself through scrutiny; their friends’ teasing and pranks; unsound romantic advice from a house-elf; wearing pretty clothes; all to try and win Potter’s heart through courtship...

This thing of beauty is exactly as hilarious as it sounds. However, it is so much more than the endless laughs (although there are many). It is sweet, tender, touching, and filled with glorious pining and misunderstandings. Inside you’ll find extravagant (the word was literally invented for Cibee’s Draco) outfits, confusing customs, a blanket that brought me to tears, one badass house-elf, one very confused beloved, absolutely no fornication (wink), and one hopelessly smitten pureblood. Be warned, this fic is actually three “What the fuck, Draco?”s in a trenchcoat. I read it when I want to laugh, facepalm, and submerge myself in the adorable stupidity that is Draco Malfoy in love. It is well worth your time and is sure to bring a smile to your face.

With this final fic we conclude my list on a happy note! It’s long, it’s tedious, and I had a spanking good time writing it. I hope these bring some joy or happy tears to your day.

Love, Vina 

#vina recs #oh my look a new tag! #long post #drarry #drarry fic rec

[astaroth1357]

(Yes, I still have more requests but I need a creativity break. This has been in my drafts for a while so I share it with you now)

How to Comfort Your Demon Boyfriend

Have Some Sympathy for the Devil...

Demons are amoral beings by nature. This lack of natural empathy and ethical restraint can make them appear to be heartless, but nothing is farther from the truth. In fact, your beloved hellspawn can feel happiness and love just as well as you can but that also means they can experience sadness too... When this happens it’s only natural to want to cajole your lover back to high spirits, but this task can be easier said than done. For cases when your demon has taken up sorrow, our guide How to Comfort Your Demon Boyfriend is here to help! This volume will offer you some of the best advice on the market for how to bring your demon back to happiness as any lover would want to do. With our help, you should see that frown lift right off your partner’s face just like when they torment the beings left for eternal damnation, guaranteed!

Lucifer

Lucifer will not want to make his sorrow known to you at first. He prefers to present an image of power and composure which in his mind goes against the vulnerability sadness can bring. You will have to be mindful and watch out for changes in his behavior.

If he is: avoiding your presence, working even more than usual, being stricter on others, emotionally distant, isolating himself, or listening to an inordinate amount of classical music it may be time to intervene.

Engage Lucifer on this only when he is alone. This won’t be too difficult as he will likely be avoiding people anyway.

Approaching Lucifer on a matter this sensitive should be done with caution and great care. You have very little room for error. If you make a gaff or try to speak to him in a way he deems belittling, then he may shut you out further and then you’re back at square one.

Do you best to convey concern, compassion, and sincerity. In your mind you should not be speaking to the Avatar of Pride right now. You should be approaching someone very dear to you whom you can tell is hurting.

If Lucifer is not ready to speak, he will try to console you but give you no concrete answers for his behavior. This is normal, and a tad frustrating, but not a complete shutdown. You can wait for a time (at least overnight) and then try again.

Do not interrogate him. He may not feel comfortable divulging why he's upset just yet. Simply tell him what you’ve noticed about his behavior and express concern.

When Lucifer is finally ready to tell you what has him so gloomy, take care to listen intently. He may only admit this once. 

Once the information is out in the open, assess what can be done and what advice you can offer. Lucifer isn’t one to speak idly about his problems, he will likely be seeking some kind of actionable guidance more than a willing ear. Offer all suggestions empathetically, with the understanding that he values your opinion even if he doesn't take your advise.

A new plan of action will likely soothe him the most, but if he still appears to be troubled after your discussion you can offer him further relaxation options: tea, a hot bath, more classical music, pleasant conversation, etc. 

Now that he’s let you in, he shouldn’t begrudge your presence anymore so remain with him for as long as you feel is necessary. To some extent, Lucifer needs solitude to sort out his thoughts but he’s not the best at doing the same for his emotions. Remind him, gently, that some battles take two to win.

Mammon

If Mammon is upset, you’re probably going to know about it. Where Lucifer is reserved and secretive, Mammon is overt and transparent. He may not mean to be but it is what it is. He wears his heart on his sleeve.

Signs that Mammon may be in distress include: avoidance to particular topics, unconvincing denial, crying, clinginess, impulsivity, and, in extremes, desperation.

If Mammon is upset he will naturally gravitate to you for comfort. This certainly makes your task easier so long as you pick up on the signs quickly.

Physical closeness will do wonders for easing his mood. If you’re alone, I’d suggest holding him in some way but doing so in public may make him too embarrassed to actually enjoy your comfort. If you’re with others, allow him to hold you.

Get him talking. It won’t be very difficult, so just let him air out what the problem is. He may just need to complain about a bad day or some unfair treatment and that’s totally fine. Offer him a sympathetic ear.

After he’s done speaking, assess where his mood is now. If he still seems particularly gloomy, it may be the time to deploy other measures to bring him back to happiness.

Affection and humor are the best methods to use when dealing with a sad Mammon. Make a joke at the expense of whoever/whatever is troubling him then take the time to remind him of something positive about himself or your bond. He won’t accept these compliments verbally (but he won’t want you to stop them either).

If even this is not enough (and you’re feeling generous), you can offer to take him shopping or out to eat on your expense. Be warned that he will NEVER refuse this offer and you best have the funds to cover his (immense) expenses. Grimm can’t buy you happiness, but if you’re Mammon it comes very, very close.

Leviathan

Chances are if Levi is sad it’s due to an insecurity of some kind nagging at him. Like Mammon, he generally won’t be very subtle about it.

Look for these signs: melancholy, self-deprecation, envious statements, the phrase “It’s not fair!,” increased anime/game usage, crying, loss of appetite, lack of sleep, increased possessiveness.

Leviathan will periodically go through moods of self-doubt that will cause him to deflate and draw inward. He will not be able of pull himself out of these recurring regressions so it will be up to you to take notice of when he’s struggling.

If you see signs that he is falling victim to his thoughts, it's best to comfort him some before getting to the bottom of what’s wrong.

Find a way to hold him, if he’s currently playing a game then either wait for him to reach a stopping point or ask politely if he will pause so you can give him some affection. He will likely cling onto you in some way once he’s ready to speak. This is normal behavior, allow him to be as close as he needs and pat his head. He will find this soothing. 

Now gently ask him what has him so upset and assess the situation. Levi may have several insecurities but always remember that he also has many strengths. Downplay his weaknesses and bolster those strengths when necessary.

He may not appear to believe your compliments at first, but this initial denial is normal. DO NOT BE DISCOURAGED. Your words mean more to him than anyone else’s, even his own. There will be a point where he stops attempting to refute your claims, that is a sign that they have reached him.

With his self-esteem bolstered, seal the deal with more affection. Kisses, hugs, and other forms of intimacy are all acceptable as he is in sore need of all options. Monitoring Levi’s emotional wellbeing is not a task for the faint of heart, yet it can still be a rewarding experience to those who wish to love this awkward otaku.

Satan

Satan takes a little after Lucifer in that he won’t be very obvious when he’s upset, but even more so because he’s already very used to acting against what he may be feeling.

Signs that Satan is in need of comfort will be subtle, but not impossible to spot. Look for if: he’s reading at nearly all times or gravitating especially toward one particular topic (this will be in response to a problem he may be facing), irritability, impatience, melancholy, or he’s more quiet/withdrawn than usual.

It is best to approach Satan about this in solitude but you need not be in private.

There is little need to walk on eggshells when asking him about his mood. Simply present your concerns in an honest and compassionate manner. Chances are, he was only hiding his problems so not to trouble you. Being direct in telling him that he doesn’t burden you will likely get him to open up just fine.

Again, like Lucifer, he will probably be seeking a solution to what’s bothering him more than he will need to vent. It’s alright if you don’t have an answer for him right away, if he’s looking for one himself it may not be a very simple problem.

Offer your support and maybe help him brainstorm what sort of steps he can take. Knowing that you’ve noticed his emotional state and are behind him fully will reassure him greatly.

If this problem has him particularly downtrodden, offer him a good book or some sort of cat-related activity/item. This should perk him up considerably because the thing he loves second to only you, is cats.

Asmodeus

If Asmodeus is upset, you WILL know.

He is not subtle in the slightest so finding signs won’t be much of a challenge. If he is: crying, moping, acting uncharacteristically withdrawn, shying away from partying, buying excessive amounts of makeup/clothing/jewelry, etc. then he is likely in need of comfort.

Approach Asmo anywhere that you can find him and ask him why he what's wrong. There isn’t any need to hide his feelings from others, he’s very open about his emotions.

He will probably tell you immediately and may need to vent in the process. Listen patiently to what he has to say with a sympathetic ear. This is a therapeutic release for him and a very important step towards making him feel better.

Once he’s done, offer him physical comfort. A hug or kisses should suffice, but it can be taken farther to whatever level you are most comfortable with. He will appreciate any contact that’s offered regardless.

If time passes and he still seems unusually somber, offer to take him shopping or to go to a spa of some kind. This may not completely rid him of his sadness, but it will help bring him back to higher spirits. 

Asmodeus’ emotions run deep and can be very intense, both in highs and lows. Do not feel inadequate if it takes a few days to fully rid him of a bad mood. Just be there for him as best you can and he will love and be grateful to you for every minute of it, regardless.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub is not likely to voice his sadness, but it can still be picked up on pretty quickly if you know what to look for.

Look for these signs: he’s eating less/smaller portions than usual, unfinished plates, general looks of sorrow or unhappiness, exercising more/in excess of what's healthy, and gravitation towards comfort foods.

The first thing to note is there’s a chance that his sadness isn’t his own, but Belphegor’s just carrying over to him due their twin connection. It may be advantageous to check on Belphie before approaching Beel just in case. (For more on cheering up Belphegor, consult the next section).

If Belphie is fine, then go to Beel and gently ask him what’s wrong. Again, there is little need to beat around the bush here. Like Satan, he probably just didn’t want to trouble you.

The chances are that he’s upset about a family matter or he’s having nightmares again. If it’s a problem within the family, first ascertain if there’s an upset between him and Belphie. If the twins are having a spat, the best way to cheer him up would be to help resolve it.

For other family related issues, please seek out our supplementary material: On Demonic Family Relations & How to Resolve Demonic Family Squabbles

If he’s having nightmares, then you should consider monitoring what food he eats before bed and stay with him while he sleeps if you are not already. It will comfort him to have you close. The nightmares should pass eventually, but be there to give him love and support until they do. 

Beel may look big and intimidating, but he has the most heart of any demon out there. If he has gifted it to you, it’s only natural for you to feel distressed if he’s not acting like his usual self. Just remember that a downcast Beel is not the end of the world, nor something that can’t be righted with a bit of love and effort to reach out.

Belphegor

In truth, Belphegor is more prone than the rest to suffer from bouts of sadness regularly. There may not be an obvious cause for these dips in mood, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things you can do to help.

Belphie is very hard to read at times so physical indicators of sadness won’t be easy to catch. It may take some added familiarity with him to know when he’s acting differently than usual. Stay patient, vigilant, and empathetic. You will pick up on it eventually.

Look for these signs: increased apathy, melancholy, excessive sleepiness (yes, even more sleepy somehow), irritability, lack of appetite, and general withdrawal from the world around him.

It may be best just to ask Belphie how he’s feeling on a somewhat regular basis, but be careful not to frame your questions as if they’re coming from a place of excessive worry. He won’t want to feel as if you pity him or find him to be overly fragile, this is just a part of his daily life after all.

Beel can also be used as an indicator of Belphie’s emotional state. If Beel is looking particularly sad, it might be good to check on his twin just in case.

If it’s not a good day for him, he may not tell you outright. You will need to read between the lines. Watch where his eyes go as he answers and how long it takes him to respond. If he refuses to look at you or takes a little longer than he should to say he's alright, he may be struggling even if he claims to be fine.

Thankfully, there are very easy ways to bring Belphie a bit of comfort. Offering to nap together or cuddle is by far the easiest method and he will rarely refuse the opportunity. You can also make plans to go some place with him and Beel. Spending time with his twin will significantly improve his mood, at least under most circumstances.

If he and Beel are not currently on speaking terms, this could be another reason he's upset. Helping to resolve the issue should bring him back to good spirits, so do so post-haste.

Belphegor is a melancholic individual on principle. Though you may want to see him be cheerful more often, to some extent that’s just not a part of his nature. Don’t blame yourself if you can’t seem to get him to appear happy most days, the chances are that just having you there is doing more for him than you could ever know. Just remember that when he says he loves you he does, in fact, mean it.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

[luminescencefics]

you feel like home - part six

“Uh, sorry. Sometimes Jackson’s just too much, so I come out here and—”

He’s not quite sure why he’s saying anything. Neither is Ryan, considering her face is blank, brown eyes staring into green wondering why she hasn’t turned her back to him yet. Because in any other instance she would have listened to Harry unfalteringly, but that was before she read the signs wrong and tried to kiss him. Now she’s just staring at him, blinking through her blurry thoughts, wondering why the lift is taking forever to reach their floor.

“Sorry,” Harry says quietly, and Ryan isn’t sure if it’s for this awkward moment in the hallway or for not kissing her back. She doesn’t really want to think about it at all, if she’s being honest.

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***

When It Goes From Bad to Worse

In the days that follow, Ryan does her best to stay locked inside her flat. She dodges Fiona’s constant calls, ignores the text messages that have flooded her mobile, all filled with questions regarding the so-called date she wishes she can just forget she ever attended.

Ryan feels a bit bad, because she knows she’s being selfish by leaving Fiona out after she promised to ring her the following day with a play-by-play of the evening’s events. But reliving those felt like some cruel sort of torture Ryan refused to bestow upon herself, therefore she’s decided to do the next best thing—sit in her flat with the front door locked wearing those ugly flannel pajama bottoms she buried in the bottom of her drawer, drinking cheap beer and ordering takeaway because she refused to leave her flat in order to do her food shopping. The slightest possibility of running into Harry in the fucking hallway was enough to keep Ryan inside, swallowing her pride and suffering in silence.

She feels like an idiot if she’s being honest. Because for the quickest of seconds, she let her guard down—her resolve that she’s built up and practiced purposely whenever she finds herself spiraling into a fit of anxiety and social awkwardness. For people like Ryan, people who feel their stomachs bubble with nerves and their brains whir with too many thoughts, people who over-analyze and plan their sentences because they can’t fathom feeling off guard, people like that need to have a protective layer. A perfectly practiced layer that allows Ryan to keep herself at a careful distance, so that she can act accordingly to whatever social situation is thrown her way.

But that night on Harry’s couch, she felt suffocated by his presence. She didn’t want to be at an arm’s length with him—she wanted to be smothered by his warmth and feel him crack through her walls, breaking down her barriers inch by inch and filling the gaps with everything she found herself liking about him. And for a split second, she did. She allowed her brain to turn off, finally welcoming the way her thoughts turned to mush around him. She completely opened herself up to the possibility of not knowing what was going to happen next. She let herself be vulnerable to the fullest extent around him.

And she figured that’s what Harry wanted her to do in the first place. Ever since she first met him, Ryan’s felt that he’s been chipping away at her wary exterior, scratching away at the concrete until his fingernails bled with every innocent query he had about her life. Whether it be her peculiar moving patterns, or her fascinating career, or how she spent her days in uni, he wanted to know everything about her. About the person she was buried beneath this protective layer she’s spent years curating.

But with one inch backward, one brief movement that ruined their almost-first-kiss, Ryan immediately realized that Harry did not want the same things as her. And she feels like an idiot because she was almost certain that he wanted her to kiss her, that he wanted her to make the first move and finally show her interest in him.

That’s the thing about infatuation, it allows for a momentary lapse in judgment, a brief juncture of blindness. It made Ryan’s tough exterior falter, but only just slightly—because the second Harry backed away from her, Ryan forced herself to close off completely, to rebuild her walls. 

The most aggravating part of it all is that she’s angrier with herself than she is with Harry. Because it’s not his fault he backed away—how could she be upset with him for that? He clearly invited her over for dinner to thank her for watching Jackson, just as he had said in her doorway that afternoon. Ryan let herself listen to Fiona in believing that it was anything more than just an amiable dinner between two friends, as he so reminded her when he defined their relationship as a “friendship” after she jokingly called him clumsy. Ryan couldn’t bring herself to be angry with Harry for not wanting her in the same capacity that she wanted him.

And that’s okay. It’s okay to not be wanted by somebody, because deep down Ryan knows that boys like Harry do not fall for girls like her. Girls who are far too awkward for their own being. Girls who feel more comfortable speaking to his four-year-old son than they do his father. Girls who misinterpret a comforting handhold as something more than a kind gesture. 

She just wishes it didn’t hurt this much.

After completing another series of the new Netflix show she decided to start bingeing at the beginning of her self-induced isolation, Ryan’s decided that it’s finally time to get off the bloody couch and change out of her horrid flannel pajama bottoms. 

Luna stretches on the rug beside her, curious in her owner’s newfound sense of urgency. She follows behind Ryan as she gathers all the empty beer bottles and takeaway containers, throws them into the appropriate bin, and wipes down the coffee table. When Ryan strips down and scrubs at her skin in the shower, erasing every remnant her abrupt downward spiral left on her, she feels ten times better than when she first entered the bathroom. 

She decides it’s time to properly stock her fridge, considering the only thing sitting on the shelves is an expired carton of milk and raspberries that are due to spoil by tomorrow. So with wet hair and fresh clothes, armed with a long grocery list and reusable bags, Ryan exits her flat for the first time in four days.

As she’s waiting for the lift to arrive on her floor, she tries her hardest not to focus on the voices coming through the crack under the front door of Harry’s flat. She can hear Harry’s low tonality through the thin walls of the hallway, and she can distinctly make out the words “please” and “Daddy’s very busy” and “I promise, later.”

Ryan knows it’s not her place, but when she hears the shrill sound of a toddler crying, she finds herself leaning a bit closer to 4G. She can’t really make out much over Jackson’s blubbering, but she can somehow piece together Harry muttering, “Bubs, please, daddy is so behind on work and I can’t sit here and read to you. Not right now. I promise when I’m done, just please stop crying so I can try and finish this song.”

She flinches when she hears Jackson’s wails grow louder, and suddenly she’s wondering how on earth Harry can manage to be a father while working at the same time. She starts to feel bad, because if she were in Harry’s position, taking care of another living, breathing human being all by herself, she’d probably go absolutely mental.

Suddenly the sound of heavy footsteps overtakes Jackson’s cries, and before his front door flies open, Ryan makes sure to back away, pressing her finger repeatedly on the lift call button once she’s realized that the doors had already closed and moved on to another floor.

Ryan tries her hardest not to look over her shoulder when she hears Harry’s front door close, because the thought of facing him after she ran out of his flat seems far too unbearable. But when a moment passes and the lift still hasn’t arrived, Ryan caves and peeks, and the sight is enough to bring a frown to her face.

Harry’s back was pressed against the wall next to his front door, his neck extended with his head leaning upwards facing the ceiling, his eyes closed tightly. His hair a mangled mess atop his head, tufts of curls sticking up haphazardly from being pulled in every direction. Two big palms were pressed over his eyes, his arms causing his wrinkled jumper to look even more disheveled. Ryan’s almost certain this is the most distressed she’s ever seen Harry, and before she can say anything, he rips his hands away from his face and takes a deep breath that causes his chest to rise and fall. 

Harry can sense that he isn’t alone in the hallway. And just as he opens his eyes, his face shifts to the left and he realizes it’s Ryan waiting near the lift. He notices the frown on her face immediately, and he wonders if it’s because of their failed kiss or something else entirely.

“Uh, sorry. Sometimes Jackson’s just too much, so I come out here and—”

He’s not quite sure why he’s saying anything. Neither is Ryan, considering her face is blank, brown eyes staring into green wondering why she hasn’t turned her back to him yet. Because in any other instance she would have listened to Harry unfalteringly, but that was before she read the signs wrong and tried to kiss him. Now she’s just staring at him, blinking through her blurry thoughts, wondering why the lift is taking forever to reach their floor.

“Sorry,” Harry says quietly, and Ryan isn’t sure if it’s for this awkward moment in the hallway or for not kissing her back. She doesn’t really want to think about it at all, if she’s being honest.

The lift chimes and the doors open behind her, and somehow from her position at the end of the hallway, she can see Harry’s eyes fall and his head shake frustratedly. He seems to be upset, and Ryan’s not sure if it’s from Jackson or from the fact that she’s about to walk away from him again.

Somehow it’s enough to cause her to ignore the lift for the second time, her feet creating a determined path to her front door, key fitting into the lock and turning unceremoniously until the door swooshes open and she’s standing in the entranceway of her flat. She can hear Harry call her name in a questioning tone, voice laced with confusion and worry. But before she can respond, she’s standing in front of one of her bookshelves, plucking the red paperback from the middle shelf. Just as quickly as she arrived, Ryan locks up with the same gusto, extending the arm holding the book tightly in Harry’s direction. 

His wide eyes create a path from the book to Ryan’s eyes and back again, and after a few moments have passed and Harry still hasn’t taken the book out of her hand, she pushes it an inch closer, forcing him to grasp it. 

“What’s this?” Harry dumbly asks, even though he can clearly make out the shape of a paperback book in Ryan’s small hand, as well as the yellow lettered Harry Potter writing on the top half of the cover. 

“I bookmarked where we last left off,” Ryan mumbles, staring at the loose thread on his jumper instead of the wide look of his eyes.

When it’s still quiet, Ryan just nods, taking that as her cue to leave. But before she can make it past his frozen frame, Harry seems to snap out of his dumbfounded state, turning on his heel and grasping her forearm lightly.

Ryan stops, trying her hardest not to shiver under his touch.

“Ryan, I really think—”

“—Let me know when you’ve finished. I can lend you the next book,” Ryan forces herself to interrupt, before shaking her arm loose and beginning the short trek back to the lift.

With a brief pause, Harry defeatedly calls out, “It’s your thing, though.”

Her finger hovering over the lift call button freezes, and suddenly Ryan feels as if she can’t move. How Harry even knows that his son said those same words to Ryan a few days earlier in his pillow fort makes her heart drop into the depths of her stomach, and she immediately feels bad for the little boy inside 4G. She feels bad because not only did she let him grow attached to her in such a small period of time, but she let herself get just as attached to him. And knowing that she can’t read the rest of the Harry Potter books to him, something so infinitesimal in the grand scheme of things, leaves a dull ache in her chest.

She turns around then, feeling Harry’s heavy gaze fall on her. What once would make her shift uncomfortably in her boots from awkwardness now just leaves her feeling sad and empty.

“Just make sure you do the Hagrid voice, he’ll forget all about it being our thing,” Ryan says sadly, and both begin to frown, knowing that what she said held little truth.

He looks as if he wants to tell her something, but before Ryan can fall under his hypnotizing spell, can give him a second chance to chip away at her much thicker walls, she turns back around, jabbing her pointer finger into the lift call button.

She watches the screen count down from twelve, and she knows she only has about two minutes until it reaches the fourth floor. She’s praying that Harry will leave her alone, will reenter his flat and make sure Jackson is okay. But just as the screen reaches eight, she hears her name fall pleadingly from Harry’s mouth, and she knows she’s fucked.

Ryan doesn’t turn around, but she also doesn’t give him a reason not to continue. So as the number falls from eight to seven, she hears, “I really wanted to kiss you,” fall from Harry’s mouth, and suddenly her chest constricts, and she feels even sadder than before.

Because if he had said those words to her four days ago, Ryan would have turned around and ran into his arms, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him long and hard. But now, after four days of silence, four days of ignoring the world and rebuilding her walls, it’s the last thing she wants to hear.

She feels her skin warm with anger, because how dare he say that to her with her back turned to him? When she’s been replaying every incident they’ve shared together over and over in her head, analyzing every look, every touch, every word until she’s practically memorized them? When she finally decided that Harry wasn’t interested in her, that he was just another beautiful boy that Ryan could admire from afar?

So she buries it all—the anger, the frustration, the bitterness. She buries it until it’s hidden under every crevice of her insides, until the only thing that’s left is an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Because that’s truly all there is to it—a missed opportunity between two people who didn’t want the same things. 

When the doors finally open, Ryan doesn’t hesitate to throw herself inside, her back slamming into the wall with a clamorous thud. Her hands are shaking, and she misses the ground floor button on her first attempt, giving Harry the chance to step forward an inch and try one last time.

“I’m sorry,” he says despairingly, green eyes begging for her to listen to him. Ryan tears her eyes away before he can say anything else, pressing the button successfully and burrowing her hands into her jacket pockets.

Ryan gives him one last nod, her lips upturned in a juxtaposed sad smile. “Me too,” she says softly, closing her eyes just before the lift doors shut tightly.

***

The middle of the week brings a ridiculous amount of work for Ryan to complete, but she’s happy for the distraction. Because for a moment she can stop thinking about Harry, can stop thinking about all of the things he said to her, can stop thinking about what he truly meant when he told her he wanted to kiss her.

Because thinking about those things only makes the tear in her heart rip inch by inch, and she really can’t bring herself to break apart. Not when she’s rebuilt her walls. Not when she’s gotten so used to being alone, relying on just herself to get through the day. 

Because being alone is much easier than letting herself feel things. Vulnerability is a precious thing, probably the most precious thing Ryan has to offer. Her emotions are far too complex, her personality is sometimes fragile, therefore she keeps her vulnerability hidden under lock and key. So the only other option is to be alone—and it’s an option she’s been okay with for the better part of three years.

She hasn’t heard from Harry since his confession in the hallway, and Ryan figures it’s probably for the best. He’s confusing and he makes her feel things her heart hasn’t felt in a long time, and even though she feels an odd sense of emptiness in her chest when she considers her missed opportunity, she knows that trying to find steady ground with him will only make everything hurt that much worse.

Harry’s probably come to the same conclusion, and Ryan can sleep at night knowing that she did everything she could. She can finally put this odd relationship with Harry to rest, and even though she’s sad about it, especially considering she found a new friend in his tiny son, it’s something she has to force herself to deal with. 

A loud ping from her desktop shakes her out of her thoughts, and Ryan clicks on it to see a new email from her supervisor. Apparently, he’s sent over two parcels that require product testing, and Ryan sighs quietly, adding another thing to her overflowing to-do list. 

After sending over her recommendations on the Nerf blasters she and Jackson played with last week, Ryan heads over to her bedroom to find her ratty slippers. Her legs are covered in cashmere joggers Fiona splurged on for Ryan’s twenty-fifth birthday, and because she misses her friend a little more than usual, she’s wearing a white knitted jumper she borrowed from her closet and never returned before moving out.

Her hair is a mess of waves falling down her back, and she doesn’t even realize that she’s been wearing her glasses for most of the week, feeling far too lazy to put contacts in. With her mobile in one hand and her mailbox key in the other, Ryan heads out into the hallway, her brain already thinking about the next four things on her to-do list.

The sight in front of her makes her slipper-clad feet stop abruptly on the carpeted flooring.

Outside of Harry’s front door stands a beautiful blonde-haired woman, her hair much shorter than the long curly mane in the photographs around his flat. Instead of falling down her back, her hair is straighter now, clipped right above the tops of her shoulder blades. She’s donned in an impressive pantsuit with an expensive-looking briefcase resting on the wall near Harry’s door. From her side profile, Ryan can make out her perfectly constructed jawline, her exquisite button nose, and the edges of her almond-shaped eyes. 

Ryan immediately identifies the woman as Rachel, Jackson’s mum and Harry’s ex.

When Ryan looks a bit closer, she can see that Rachel’s pouty lips are in a straight line, and her eyes are downcast as if she were angry. Her hands are moving aggressively as she speaks, and when Ryan chances a look at Harry standing in his doorway, she can tell by his body language that he’s equally just as mad. His arms are crossed over his chest and his mouth is shaped into a frown and his eyebrows are furrowed, and suddenly Ryan feels as if she’s intruding on an intimate family moment she no longer is privy to. 

The Ryan before would retreat back into her flat without being noticed, but the Ryan after, the Ryan who understands that she and Harry have nothing left besides a tattered friendship, the Ryan who built her walls back up, the Ryan who promises herself to remain unfazed by whatever sight is occurring in front of her—that Ryan takes a deep breath and steps forward, heading for the mailroom because her job is much more important than her missed opportunity with Harry.

She makes sure not to make eye contact when she walks by Harry and Rachel, choosing instead to stare at the lock screen of her mobile as if the picture she took on the shores of Devon this past summer was infinitely more interesting than the arguing couple to her left. And just when she thinks she’s in the clear, a few meters away from the lift, she hears her name fall from the chipper mouth of a four-year-old boy. She looks over her shoulder, noticing Jackson’s curly head poking out from behind Harry’s legs, and suddenly he’s hobbling over towards her without a care in the world.

“Ryan! Guess what!” He’s in front of her now, head tilted upwards with a toothy grin on his face, excitedly waiting for her response so he can tell her whatever is on his mind.

Before she looks down at Jackson, she can feel the heat of a blue-eyed glare coming from the other end of the hallway, and she tries her hardest not to look up at Rachel. Ryan offhandedly hears Harry scold his son for running out of the flat, and just as Jackson begins telling Ryan his story, she hears the heated whisper of, “the nanny lives next door?” and she instantly flushes with red-hot embarrassment. 

When Ryan finally looks down at Jackson, she realizes that he’s been speaking to her for a few moments now, and she’s completely missed the first part of his story. She begins to frown, immediately feeling bad for focusing on Harry and Rachel instead of Jackson. All she wants to do is get out of the fucking hallway and into the lift, but her adorable new friend is making it that much more difficult to escape unscathed.

“Hey, champ. I’m sorry, but I’ve got somewhere I need to be. Why don’t you go hang out with daddy, okay? We can hang some other time.” It’s a promise she isn’t sure she can entirely keep anymore, but it saves her the guilt of ignoring Jackson completely. 

His excited babbling stops and he begins to frown, his bottom lip quivering slightly, not understanding why his new friend who always entertains him suddenly doesn’t want to anymore. 

“But, Ryan—”

“—Jackson, leave her alone. Come grab your things and leave with mummy,” Rachel says harshly.

When his face turns red and his big green eyes start to glass over, Ryan’s almost certain she’s the only person who can see his tantrum brewing, considering his back is to his parents and he’s completely facing her. Unbeknownst to her, Harry can feel it too, and he’s instantly regretting this entire situation.

“I don’t wanna go! I wanna hang with Ryan! And Luna! We play games and have fun and she reads me Harry Potter books, and I don’t want to go to mummy’s no more!” He’s having a full-on strop, tears rushing down his red blotchy cheeks. He’s gasping for air between belts and Ryan knows she shouldn’t console him because it isn’t her place, but fuck, he looks so sad and it’s utterly heart-wrenching. And before she understands fully what she’s doing, she’s crouched down in front of him, two hands resting gently on his shaking shoulders.

“Hey, champ. Whoa. Deep breaths, you’re all right, yeah? We’ll hang another day. You’ve got your mum now, don’t worry about me or Luna. We’re always right next door. I need you to breathe, can you do that for me?” Ryan can hear the sound of clipped heels echoing against the flooring, and when she looks up she’s met with nothing but a face of fury, blue eyes darted into slits and red lips thinned out in irritation. 

“What on earth are you saying to him?! You’re the nanny for Christ’s sake, not his mother! Stop trying to act like it just because you want to shag his father!”

The silence is deafening. Even though Jackson’s uncontrolled sobs are ear-splitting, Ryan can’t hear anything except for the sound of her heart sinking into her stomach. Instantly, she stands up, ignoring the feeling of Jackson tugging at the bottom of her joggers. She wonders if that’s what Harry thinks of her—if that’s how he describes her to his mates, to his family, to his son’s fucking mother.

This realization is entirely conveyed through her dark eyes, and Harry can practically feel her disappointment and anguish towards him. Immediately he starts to panic, eyes wide and mouth parted, struggling to find the right words to say, because shit—he’s never thought of her in that way ever.

But then he’s reminded of his wailing son and his angry mother. And instantly he goes into dad mode, delegating his son as his top priority and pushing Ryan’s hurt to the bottom of the pile.

Ryan knows this. And she suddenly wants, no, needs to be anywhere else but here.

With a muffled apology that she isn’t sure she meant to direct at Jackson or his mother, she skirts by them, stares straight ahead ignoring Harry’s gaze, and heads for her front door, shutting it tightly behind her before she slinks down to the ground and lets the first tear fall. 

She stays on the floor of her entranceway for a long time, muffling her cries with the sleeves of Fiona’s jumper until the tear in her heart rips completely open, flooding her insides until all that’s left in her chest is a gaping hole where her heart once was.

***

A/N: Hi all, that was part six of you feel like home. Please be patient, I know you guys probably want to slap Harry across the face (even though the chapter title sort of explained how it would go). This story is meant to explore how Ryan feels, and I really hope this part helped explain her reasoning. It’s a two-sided story, and I know you’re probably dying to hear Harry’s side! That’s the glory of mult-part fics, it’s his turn to shine next chapter. Thanks for all the feedback and love you guys are giving this fic, it makes writing it that much more fun. Part seven will be posted on Thursday December 7, so feel free to chat with me in the meantime and tell me your thoughts! This was a submission for the 1DFF Quarantine Challenge, which has other amazing writers participating as well, so feel free to check out the page! See you next week my loves x

taglist: @stylishmuser @vikki1220 @greatestview @verorax @cronias13 @adoremp3 @ilovegolden @taintedwonder @stepping-into-the-light @onlyphysicallypresent @dontwanttobealone @justsaying20 @elemayox @awomanindeniall @ihearthemcallingforyou @halloweenniall @live-at-the-forum @kakayam @harryinsweatersandbandanas @hopelessly-harry @ficnarry @morethanamelodyy @niallgolden @harryswinterberries @caramello-styles @harrysstyle @greatestview @solllaris​ @niallgolden

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry fic #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x #1dforever #onedirection #onedirectionfanfiction #1dffupdates #1dffquarantine

[h2bakugou]

Hey! I was wondering if you could write about the reader with Jean Grey powers (xmen) who keeps to herself until the bakusquad decide to recruit her? Then after hanging with them the reader opens up and bakugou starts to have feelings for her and confesses? Thank youuu

a/n: hiya! of course! i haven’t seen xmen in a minute oof i should rewatch them. thank you for the request hun!

summary: after watching you in action and then sulk off to your room alone, bakugou and the bakusquad get tired of seeing you alone so they decide to recruit you, but bakugou’s feelings for you only get stronger

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / powerful psychic abilities -  your quirk; for more info on this, you can look at the jean grey wiki page

warnings: swearing, fluff

wordcount: 1.5k

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»»————-　★　————-««

Watching you in action was riveting. You had immense power, power Bakugou hadn’t seen in a while. It was an unusual power. After seeing All Might and other pro heroes fight, comparing you to them felt a little pathetic, not that the way they fought was weak, but you exhibited power from not just strength, but with emotion, with your mind, with your body.

You were unique in so many ways. From the way your hair seemed to turn to fire when using your quirk, to the way you’d manipulate the energy around you to fight.

It was even more impressive seeing you fly form your amazing control of telekinesis.

But he couldn’t understand you. The more he tried, the more he hurt his brain trying to figure you out. Even Kaminari didn’t make his head hurt this much.

You were a book, with thousands of pages if not more. But you were so shut off, closed in. You didn’t even talk to Midoriya which Bakugou thought everyone did.

The only time you ever talked to anyone was when you were spoken too. You opted to stay to yourself, but Bakugou was tired of seeing you this way. Why didn’t you have friends? Or maybe you did and they just didn’t go here.

Whatever the case was, Bakugou was going to get you to be his friend, and for the first time, Bakugou was going to put forth the effort in making the friendship.

“Oh hey bro!” Kaminari slung his arm around Bakugou as he sat down on the couch.

“Shut it Dunceface.” Bakugou waited for the rest of his quote on quote ‘squad’ to show up. And when they had, he began to speak.

“We’re inviting another person to the group.” Bakugou didn’t mention them as a group a lot. But he was serious. And he didn’t care about his pride for two seconds, those tow seconds being right now.

“Oh, Bakugou went and got a heart!” Sero joked. 

“(Y/n).” Bakugou spoke, turning around to look at you sitting at a table reading a book.

You lifted your head and looked at him, confusion written on your features.

“He wants you to join our group! Come on!” Kirishima says with a smile. You can feel heat rise to your face, it’s not an intense blush but it’s happening.

Cautiously you stand and walk over to the group, your closed book in your hand.

“Uhm thanks.” You thank them for inviting them over to their group.

“We’ve never really talked, tell us about yourself!” Mina is excited to actually hear you talk.

“Well uh my name is (F/n) (L/n) and I like to read sometimes.” You sit down beside Bakugou, who had taken a seat when you walked over.

Bakugou’s head was swarming with all sorts of feelings. You were warm, you radiated energy and heat. He could feel how powerful you were just by sitting beside you.

- - -

Shortly after talking with the group, you’d opened up a bit and you were, for the first time in a while, comfortable with a group of people that you could call friends.

It wasn’t like you isolated yourself on purpose, you just never made the executive decision to make friends. You were here to learn, you didn’t really see a point in it, at the time, but now, having talked with the Bakusquad, you’d clearly missed out. Life was so much better when you weren't spending it alone moping in your room wishing you could make friends super easily.

Over the course of a week or two, you’d began to eat lunch with them, opting to hang out after training and class, and even spending time with Mina to do some girl stuff and sleepover things.

But it was Bakugou who you’d grown somewhat closer too. He would train with you, one on one. You’d spar and often ask to be partnered up in class activities.

You’d gone out on a walk with Bakugou, heading off campus before curfew.

“It’s weird being off campus.” You sat on a swing, you’d come to a park that was nearby, while Bakugou approached the one beside you.

“We do everything on campus, but I guess it is called school for a reason.” You joke, pushing back off the ground so you could swing forward a bit.

“Why’d you invite me to your group?” You questioned, curious about why it was Bakugou who made the big decision on recruiting you.

“I was tired of seeing you all alone. You clearly have skill so you should be making friends and shit.” Bakugou pouted, he hated being open, or merely he hated expressing feelings that made others think he was all soft and shit.

He was, to an extent that he’d only let people, the people who were really close to him, see those feelings and that side of him.

“I always struggled to make friends.” You began, deciding to open up to Bakugou. It seemed fair since this was clearly not the norm for him.

Bakugou’s head turned to look at you, he could read you like a book now, you’d pulled back the cover and all your pages were showing.

“I was just always focused on training and controlling my quirk. It’s always been super tough, and when it gets out of control I could really hurt someone. I never wanted to lose control and hurt the people around me, the people that I cared about.”

Bakugou knew what that was like. He had an explosion quirk, danger was always prominent, he could easily hurt someone if he got too angry.

“So I pushed everyone away, you can’t hurt people if you never surround yourself with them, right?” You try to crack a joke at the situation, but your failed attempt just makes you sigh.

“So when you were willing to invite me to your group, I didn’t know what to do, it was hard, but you just opened your arms and accepted me. I guess that’s why I gravitated to you so much, because you know what it’s like.”

“I do.” Bakugou added, he was inwardly happy to see that you’d caught on to his situation.

“But I can’t wrap my head around you. You’re so funny to me. You always criticize Midoriya and even Kirishima and Kaminari, but with me, it’s like you’re a whole different kind of Bakugou.”

“I could say the same about you. When I first saw you use your quirk, I was so fucking impressed it was insane. I couldn’t understand how someone like you wasn’t aiming for the top. You made me so angry seeing you alone.” Bakugou gripped the chains of the swing set.

“It drove me crazy, seeing you all alone, spending time with yourself like you were too important to make friends. It really pissed me off.” Bakugou looked at the ground.

“Because that was me.” Bakugou kicked at the red mulch under his feet.

“I hated the idea of making friends but those losers crept up on me, and as much as I still hate them, they’ve been there for me through all of this shit.”

“It was Kirishima who grabbed your hand when the league caught you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve always admired your duality.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Bakugou looked back up at you, the sun was beginning to set and you’d have to head back to U.A. soon. God he wanted to kiss you right now.

You looked so beautiful, the way the orange and purple sky mixed with the sparkling of stars beginning to light up like a city in the sky, the glow of the sun dripping below the horizon made your skin look radiant, like it was covered in thousands of tiny stars itself.

You were beautiful, everything about you was beautiful, he couldn’t fathom it.

“You’re strong when you need to be, but you’re able to open up and acknowledge your weaknesses.” 

Bakugou couldn’t resist any longer. The rustling of chains startled you as he darted up and took a few steps closer to you.

“Shut up.” He murmured before pressing his lips to yours. The swing was pushed back as you rose to your feet, your lips connecting to his like they were magnets.

His kiss was enough to make you realize one thing. Katsuki Bakugou was in love with you.

You kissed back but pulled away shortly after.

“Why’d you do that?” You questioned. 

“I needed to. Was it bad or something?”

“No! No! It was nice, I liked it.” You admitted, flustered.

“Can you stop making excuses and just realize that you’re still learning.” Bakugou intertwined his fingers with yours, securing your hand in his as you began to walk back toward the campus.

“Yeah.” You whispered.

When you arrived back at the dorms, Mina was surprised to see your hand in Bakugou’s.

“Someone’s in love!” She cooed, excited for the two of you. You looked away and let out a small giggle while Bakugou’s cheeks burned red.

"Shut up!” He yelled, rushing up the stairs with you to his dorm.

You and Bakugou hung out for a little while but it was safe to say that not only had you made some new friends, you’d discovered love for the first time.

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masterlist

#bakugou #bakugo #katsuki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

[rhubarbed-triangle]

Dream SMP and the Major Arcana

Hello! I've recently been learning about tarot cards and readings and I realized that there's a lot of parallels between the characters on the Dream SMP and the major arcana cards. I'm not an expert on the cards, so feel free to let me know if there's a character you think would fit that card better or there's a better explanation somewhere.

For the card definitions, I used this website: https://labyrinthos.co/blogs/tarot-card-meanings-list

I also tried to pick characters for cards that embodied both the upright and reverse meanings as a whole. These descriptions are also all about the characters and not the creators themselves.

The World - Dream and the SMP, could also include the community house

Since The World card signifies community, unification, and traveling, it would make sense that Dream would represent The World. His whole motivation as a character is that he wants the SMP to be unified into one big happy family. And the world is named after him, after all.

Judgement - Jack

The Judgement card represents reflection, reckoning, but when in reverse, also represents self loathing and doubt. The way Jack blames Tommy for his misfortunes but has a change in heart when he finds out Tommy died is the kind of self reflection present in Judgement. And when Tommy comes back and Jack realizes how he meant to Tommy (even if it's not a true reading of the situation), he switches back to trying to hurt Tommy as much as he hurt him. His judgement of Tommy seals both Tommy's and Jack's fate.

The Sun - Foolish, Sapnap

The Sun represents celebration, joy, success. I really don't have a solid connection to the characters here, but it feels like both Foolish and Sapnap could fit this card.

The Moon - Antfrost, Connor

The Moon represents unconsciousness, illusions, and intuition. The Moon reversed is all about confusion, fear, and misinterpretation. When Antfrost was controlled by the Egg, he did his fair share of spreading the fear and showing that the Egg was nothing to be messed with. When he wasn't corrupted, he had a great sense of knowing how the Eggpire was in the wrong even if they didn't have control over their actions. The same could be said with Connor. Connor is one of the only characters of the SMP that seems to know more than what he lets on, getting into shenanigans that others would deem noncanonical.

The Star - Ponk

The Star represents a sense of hope and rejuvenation, and in reverse represents faithlessness and insecurity. The faith that Ponk holds/held for members of the Eggpire before he was corrupted, trying to keep an eye on them, faking being corrupted, as well as the fact that knowing that all of Sam's misdeeds will catch up to him but he'd have a place for Sam to stay regardless embodies the Star's hope.

The Tower - Eret, Eret's Tower, L'Manberg to an extent

The Tower represents sudden change, disaster, and broken pride, but it doesn't necessarily have to be bad. The sudden change from Eret switching sides in the fight for L'Manberg independence was a significant change both for them and for L'Manberg. Still, L'Manberg bounced back, much like Eret did later on when they truly regretted their betrayal. The reverse Tower represents avoided or delayed disaster. The fact that L'Manberg was rebuilt twice after being destroyed until it was destroyed for good just delayed what seemed like the inevitable.

The Devil - Schlatt

Seems self-explanatory, but I can explain just in case. The Devil represents addiction and materialism while the reverse represents freedom and restoring control. Schlatt saw himself rising to power in L'Manberg as freeing the city of the tyranny of the previous rulers. Not to mention, he was heavily involved in many addictions during his life.

Temperance - Ranboo

Patience, the middle ground, and finding meaning is represented by Temperance. Ranboo is one of the most neutral characters on the SMP, and even when he does get wrapped into fighting for a side, he tries to remain as under the radar as possible, not wanting to give any more reason for others to attack. This is apparent with how he's treating Tubbo's outpost outside Las Nevadas versus how Tubbo is treating the outpost as well as dealing with living double lives in the Syndicate and at Snowchester.

Death - Wilbur/Revivebur

Death is the end of a cycle, a metamorphosis into something new, but Death in reverse can also mean stagnation and a fear of change. The way Wilbur's character changes throughout the SMP's history, taking many forms, greatly mimics the political changes as well as meta changes to the SMP. But at the same time, Revivebur has a similar mentality to S1 Wilbur while the rest of the server has moved on without him.

The Hanged Man - Tommy

The Hanged Man is a tragic card, representing sacrifice and martyrdom but in reverse also represents needless sacrifice. The way that Tommy is continually pushed to sacrifice more and more of the things and people he loves may be seen as needless. He could also be interpreted as a martyr when he died in prison as his death marks a shift in the SMP, especially shown in how people reacted when the news broke out.

Justice - Sam

As the warden of the server, Sam represents the law. But the Justice card is more than that. It's cause and effect, truth, clarity. Sam sees things in very black and white: either you're a good person who does good things or you're a bad person who does bad things. The way he's confused when Ponk mentions that all the bad things he's done will catch up to him shows that Sam doesn't think of himself as a bad person and thus couldn't have done anything bad. Justice in reverse also signifies unfairness and unaccountability like the fact that Sam allowed Quackity to visit Dream despite knowing what was going on.

Wheel of Fortune - Karl

The Wheel of Fortune is about cycles of good and bad fortune as well as inevitable fate. The fact that Karl has no choice when he time travels and still must pay the price for it every time fits very well.

The Hermit - Fundy

While most think of The Hermit card as isolation and loneliness, the Hermit also represents inner guidance and seeking the truth. As Fundy is guided by his dreams, he tries to glean the meaning from what they show him. He even isolates himself in the hope that the dreams wouldn't happen anymore (which can be interpreted as he hoped he found the truth about them). Even before he was having dreams, he would isolate himself from the rest of the SMP for periods of time like after the destruction of L'Manberg for the final time.

Strength - Technoblade

While physically strong and confident in terms of his artillery, Techno is insecure in his loyalties with other members of the SMP, as in, he can't fight with words. The two most common ways of fighting, with words and charisma and with brute force, both show up in Techno but as extremely unbalanced. The dichotomy between Strength's physical power and the insecurity in its reverse matches well with Techno's strengths and weaknesses.

The Chariot - Niki

The Chariot represents direction and control, movement, but in reverse can also signify aggressiveness or lack of control. Niki is a very motivated character. She knows what she wants and she will get it. She also knows how other people may feel about what's going on, and she can recruit them to her side. When she knows what she wants, she will get it, but sometimes may lose control of the situation.

The Lovers - Bad and Skeppy

The Lovers card doesn't necessarily have to mean romantic ties between two or more people, the card can also mean partnerships and duality, and in reverse, can mean one-sidedness. The fact that it was implied that the reason Bad is only with the Egg is because of Skeppy and that Dream was planning on locking Skeppy up in his vault to control Bad shows that these two are connected on a much deeper level than most of the other pairs on the SMP. Not to mention, when both Bad and Skeppy were corrupted, it was pretty evident that only Bad cared about their relationship in a one-sided way.

The Hierophant - Tubbo

The Hierophant represents tradition and conformity, morality and ethics while in reverse represents subversiveness and rebellion. Tubbo fights between the good for those he loves and the good for all. This is especially prevalent when he had to choose between Tommy or between L'Manberg. Tubbo also fights between tradition, like when he was president, and disregarding tradition when that doesn't work, like with Snowchester.

The Emperor - Philza

The Emperor embodies authority, fatherhood, structure while also meaning ridigity and coldness in reverse. It's no secret that Philza is seen as a father figure in the SMP. Even to characters that he hasn't fathered, his word and stance on things are taken into great consideration. People trust his authority. Not to mention, he is associated with cold, snowy climates.

The Empress - Captain Puffy

The Empress signifies motherhood, nature, healing. Puffy is another figure on the SMP that is seen as parental. Like Phil, despite not being an official parent to many characters, her word and authority is trusted. She has opened a therapy office to help others heal. She is powerful enough where she is a genuine threat to the Eggpire while also remaining approachable enough for Tommy to seek her out for help.

The High Priestess - George

The High Priestess is very spiritual, very in tune with intuition and the unconscious/inner voice. The fact that George gets messages in his dreams which have included conversations with an inner voice/consciousness is about as blatantly High Priestess as one can get. He is also one, if not the only, character on the SMP that is friends with Dream XD, the god of the server.

The Magician - Quackity

The Magician is a master at getting what they want, seemingly making something out of nothing. The card represents willpower, desire but also trickery and illusionment when in reverse. Quackity, like Niki, knows what he wants, but unlike Niki, Quackity can get the outcome he wants by any means necessary, never losing control of the situation. People will listen to him, it's just taken him multiple different attempts to drive that point across.

The Fool - Charlie, Ghostbur

The Fool represents innocence and new beginnings but when in reverse, can also signify being taken advantage of and inconsideration. Both Charlie and Ghostbur have an air of innocence about them, that they could do no wrong, but for different reasons. Charlie simply doesn't know any better as he has no basis for what is normal, so he can't recognize when he's being taken advantage of. Charlie is also a slime that has been given a second shot at life as a human. Ghostbur simply can't remember the wrong he's done and thus can't atone for it, hurting those he loves further. Ghostbur also is Wilbur's literal rebirth into someone new.

Like I said, feel free to make corrections or additions. I'm sure there are more parallels elsewhere that I missed.

:D

#dsmp #tarot cards #major arcana #mcyt #tommyinnit #ranboo #wilbur soot #tubbo underscore #technoblade #jack manifold #quackity #eret #fundy #slimecicle #nikichu #captain puffy #georgenotfound #philza #badboyhalo #skeppy #awesamdude #drops by ponk #antfrost #jschlatt

[hellomynameisbisexual]

Most people know to anticipate some degree of change when they’re in a committed, long-term romantic relationship: a desire for more nights in with Netflix instead of drunken ragers on the dance floor; the inevitable shift of physical appearances; the unexpected transformation of a side gig into a career. But many people assume sexual orientation is fairly stable—that whether you’re gay or straight, you’re “born this way,” and that’s what you’ll be forever.

That definitely isn’t always the case. But even though coming out as queer or bisexual in a committed straight relationship isn’t unheard of, a change in sexual identity is not something that many people anticipate happening within a long-term partnership, nor is it widely discussed. Despite the advancements in broader social understanding of LGBTQ issues made in the past decade, therapists Jared Anderson and Tamala Poljak told VICE that many of their patients fear that being bi or queer when straight-partnered could doom their relationship. There’s also a pervasive idea that a person in a hetero relationship can’t be LGBTQ because they have chosen to commit, and are presumably attracted to, a member of the opposite sex. But bisexuality is a valid orientation, and while it may feel intimidating to embrace this discovery and stay hetero-partnered, it’s by no means impossible.

“I believe both gender and sexuality [are] fluid, meaning we change throughout a lifespan,” Poljak said, adding that recent cultural shifts have likely led to light bulb moments for some individuals who has been denying or simply not recognizing their queer feelings.

Sexuality doula Isabella Frappier, whose work includes helping clients own and define their sexual expression, said that a person doesn’t need to have acted on any same-sex-attracted feelings in order to label themselves as queer or bisexual, and that bisexuality can be explored while still honoring an extant relationship, especially since everyone has different definitions of what it means to explore.

Bisexuality is often dismissed as a phase, and the idea that bisexual people are "just confused" persists. This is especially true for men; while bisexuality among women is slightly more socially acceptable (albeit because it’s fetishized and often viewed as an "experiment"), men often have to contend with the belief that bisexuality, as Carrie once put it on Sex and the City, is “a pit stop on the way to gay town.”

These myths stem from our society’s historically rigid approach to sexual expression. Experts are adamant that a person's bisexuality does not invalidate the love they have for their opposite-sex partner. According to Poljak, an associate marriage and family therapist, the idea that a person needs to “pick a side” is a rooted in heteronormative expectations.

The question, “Am I queer or bi enough?” can also weigh heavily on people who think they might not be all the way straight, as though there is a certain amount of "proof" that could confirm their sexuality. As much as those questioning might like to think there’s a litmus test that will tell them whether or not they’re truly bi, that’s simply not the case.

“For queer folks, it just isn’t so cut and dry,” Poljak said. “The hope to ‘figure it out’ and/or find ‘an answer’ is a pretty rigid idea steeped in heteronormative expectations. It also puts a lot of pressure on a person to have to declare one thing and stick to it. If you know you are attracted to one or more genders, then it’s really that simple.”

A journey into one’s queerness doesn’t have to involve sex outside of the relationship, or even sex in general. Just noticing that you’re attracted to other genders can be the extent of this exploration. The act of coming out to yourself, or maybe saying, “I’m bi. I don’t know what that looks like yet, and that’s OK,” has the potential to be extremely affirming.

You might find comfort in connecting with other queer folks, especially since identifying as queer might otherwise make you feel vulnerable or isolated. Some people are validated by coming out to friends and family, or by getting involved with the queer community. Frappier encouraged people exploring their bi/queer identity to go to LGBTQ events, read books about sexuality or written by queer authors, support bisexual artists and musicians, or join queer groups. Online, Reddit’s r/bisexual subreddit is a funny and informative space for bi folks to ask questions or simply discuss their experiences, while the Fluid Arizona resource page and Autostraddle's events and meet-ups can help queer folks build an IRL community.

If you decide you want to connect more physically with your queer sexual desires, but aren’t sure where to begin, start small. “I’d first encourage a person in this situation to start by considering the multiple ways they can explore their queerness on their own,” Frappier said. “That can be through watching ethical same-sex porn, or writing your own erotica.”

Experts strongly encouraged discussing your queerness with your partner eventually, as the secrecy can ultimately strain the relationship. (It can also contribute to the harmful idea that your queerness is somehow scandalous, or something to be ashamed of.) If you’re worried that your partner will react poorly, or you aren’t ready to share your feelings with them yet, consider talking to a professional, a trusted friend or loved one, or a queer friend who may relate a bit to what you are going through. Poljak, who is trained as an LGBTQ-affirmative therapist, said it’s crucial for people questioning their sexuality to have a solid support system. Studies show that bisexual people are at a higher risk of depression, anxiety, and experiencing violence than their gay, lesbian, and heterosexual counterparts. While staying in the closet can be a necessary choice for a myriad of reasons, research shows that the stress of concealment contributes to disrupted relationships, feelings of shame and guilt, and symptoms of anxiety and depression.

If you feel ready to talk with your significant other, avoid starting the conversation when either of you are tired or distracted, in the middle of a fight, or in any situation where tensions are high. Instead, choose a time when you both feel relaxed and won’t be rushed, like over coffee on a Saturday morning.

You don’t have to have everything figured out before you talk to your partner. Frappier said that it’s perfectly fine to tell them you’re in a questioning, exploratory phase, and then communicate what you’d like that to look like. There’s no need to choose a label unless you’d like to.

“Explain to [your partner] how you’ve been feeling, what you’re desiring to explore, and how you imagine that could look within your relationship,” Frappier said. She advised that it’s wise to let your partner know that your sexual expression is not a reflection of the relationship, but more about exploring a new part of yourself.

“Once you’re finished speaking, it’s important to give them space to share, and to really listen to how they are feeling,” Frappier said. “They may take it in stride, or need a little time to process it.”

Don’t stress if the first conversation doesn’t go as well as you’d hoped; this will likely be the first of many discussions. Anderson, who specializes in trauma and relationships, said that if any of these conversations get heated or overly emotional, it’s a good idea to press pause and revisit the topic once both partners have had a chance to cool off.

Couples therapy can also be extremely beneficial. “Ideally, both the person coming out and the partner of that person would be in individual therapy with a therapist who is trained in LGBTQ-affirmative therapy,” Poljak said. “The same is true if [you're] deciding to open your marriage, explore polyamory or emotional monogamy, and/or redefine your marital contract. The therapist needs to have more than just general knowledge of alternative, queer lifestyles, and understand the multiple systems at play.”

Psychology Today is the most thorough national network for finding mental health professionals, and allows users to search using various classifications, including sexuality and type of therapy (the “compassion-based” and “culturally sensitive” filters are good options for LGTBQ folks). Some health insurance plans allow users to filter for therapists who specialize in LGBTQ issues when searching for in-network providers. For POC-specific options, the National Queer and and Trans Therapists of Color Network is a good resource. For those struggling to find an in-person therapist, Pride Counseling offers digital therapy sessions via phone, messaging, and video call.

After your initial conversations and once you've sought any additional support you might find helpful, you and your partner may want to formulate an action plan. If you want to include your partner in your sexual exploration (and they are comfortable with that), the plan might include attending queer events, watching queer porn together, role-playing, engaging in threesomes, and/or swinging. If you’d prefer to explore your sexuality without your partner, but with other people, you may need to discuss opening up your relationship.

“Some folks find it exciting or even sexy, and perhaps a discussion unfolds about opening up the marriage or exploring poly or engaging in new kinds of play and fantasy with their partners,” Poljak said. “Maybe it even inspires their partner to share with honesty some queerness of their own that is emerging. Ideally, there is space for people’s differences and otherness to be expressed without having to lose the relationship, or having to abandon or sacrifice yourself.”

This sort of exploration is not one-size-fits-all. Regardless of the route you take, Frappier stresses the importance of discussing boundaries and safety throughout. If the two of you are struggling to find some sort of consensus when it comes to boundaries, that doesn’t mean the discussion regarding exploration is over forever. It’s very common for couples to have multiple conversations surrounding this topic, especially if one partner is asking to renegotiate the marital contract in some way.

Just as it’s reasonable for a person to want to explore their burgeoning sexuality outside of the relationship, it’s also reasonable for the other partner to say, “I’m not cool with that.” In some instances, it might be in the interest of both individuals to go their separate ways… and that’s OK, too.

“A marriage is a partnership that lasts as long as it’s right,” writer Nadia Rawls said after coming out to, and, later, ending things with her now–ex-husband. Rawls said she tried to make it work with her husband for six months, but ultimately realized that separating was the best option. “It takes a hell of a partner to help their spouse grow into the person they really are,” Rawls wrote. “Even if that means losing them.”

Rawls’s story is just one of many—Frappier and Poljak said that many couples make it work, too. It’s hard to predict how your partner might react, or how you’ll feel or what you’ll want, once you start exploring your queerness or bisexuality. That uncertainty is part of what makes the process of coming out in a straight relationship so intimidating. But the reward of being honest—both with yourself and with your partner—is the gift of a more authentic life. Regardless of the outcome, that is worth pursuing.

#queer #queer education #queer pride #queer representation #queer community #queer stuff #queer positivity #bisexuality #lgbtq community #bi #support bisexuality #bisexuality is valid #pride #bi tumblr #bi pride #lgbtq pride #lgbtq #bisexual community #bisexual nation #queer identity #queer is not a slur #queer is beautiful

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter Four

Master List / Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Canon divergent during Chapter 13 of The Mandalorian, serious pining, much angst, violence

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I’m trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We’ll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

***

Baast, back in her own clothes and covered in a cloak, hood pulled forward to hide her face, followed Din and Grogu through the bustling streets. It had been a long time since she'd been in the company of so many. 

It was overstimulating. There were too many voices, too many scents, too many emotions bombarding her at once. She increased her pace, walking practically on Din's heels as she reached out and laid her fingertips against the beskar. 

Blessed silence. Yes, she still heard the noise with her ears, but it no longer vibrated within her skull. Too long had she isolated herself to be this out of practice blocking out the world around her.

"Baast?"

She flinched and removed her hand. "Apologies. It is… loud. I have not been around this many people for some years."

He studied her for a moment before stepping closer. "The beskar blocks your abilities, doesn't it?"

She tilted her head. "To some extent, yes."

He handed her Grogu, then took her right hand and tucked her fingers at his elbow, allowing them to graze the silver of his vambrace. 

The position of honour caused her mouth to gape. "Mando?"

"When I show up with you, it is highly probable Karga will make assumptions. Do not be alarmed if I don't dispute them."

"Ah," Baast nodded and accepted her place in their deception. 

He led her through the market, Grogu babbling happily. Now that she wasn't fighting to shield her mind, she could focus on the people around them and the merchandise.

Spices, silks, pots, pans, and machine parts all crowded together, spilling from one booth to the next. The people called, cried, and bellowed in so many languages it was deafening for an all-new reason. 

Baast had never allowed herself to enjoy such things before. Always she had remained vigilant, one step ahead of those hunting her, but she knew nothing would come that Din would not first see. 

He was a great hunter. Grogu and his snippets of memory assured her of it.

Eventually, they left the market to walk dusty streets, heading into a more respectable, business-centric area of the city, finally arriving at a neatly whitewashed building with a plaque that read Magistrate above the door.

Baast hesitated.

"He's a friend."

She glanced up at Din and felt the small wave urging her to trust him bump against her. She did trust this Mandalorian. He would not put her in danger and motioned for him to continue.

The inside was as welcoming as the outside, with soft cream walls and individuals wearing brightly coloured clothing.

The female at the desk looked up, took them in, and pressed a button at her station. "The Mandalorian is here, Magistrate Kraga."

"Well, send him back!" bellowed from down the hallway.

The female rolled her eyes and waved them on. 

Baast felt more than heard Din's amusement. "Who is he to you?" she whispered.

"He was Leader of the Bounty Hunters Guild. Now he's still that, but also Magistrate of Nevarro."

They were met in the doorway by a man of later years, the grey of his beard giving him a distinguished air that went well with his yellow and gold robes.

Someone more naive than Baast might have said he looked jolly, but she knew better. He was happy to see Din, certainly, but there was a sharpness to his smile and cunning to his eyes that bespoke a shrewd businessman lurked beneath the finery. 

"Come in, Mando! You've had some success; I take it?" he asked.

Din tilted his head and motioned for the man to proceed them back into the room.

The Magistrate turned his cunning eyes her way, and Baast was suddenly very grateful for the heavy cloak.

"And you've brought a guest?"

"Greef Karga, Baast'mal," Din said, his voice without inflection.

"Charmed, I'm sure," the man said, attempting to peer past her hood. 

Baast clutched Grogu to her and glanced up at Din. He made no move either way, just gave her the inscrutable visage of his visor.

"Pirusti met," she murmured.

Karga's brow whipped up like it was alive, surprise written on his face. "Speaks Mando'a, hmm? Did you take a riduur and not tell me, my friend?"

As he warned her, Din didn't dispute it, and Karga jumped to his own conclusions with a toothy smile. 

"Well, congratulations! A clan of three! Come, we will drink to your good fortune."

"You mean you will drink," Din chuckled and made his way across the room to a small couch where he motioned Baast to sit with Grogu as he approached the man's desk and pulled three pucks from his pocket. "You can celebrate for us later. We have somewhere else to be."

Karga stared at the pucks, eyebrow slowly winging upward. "Only three, Mando? I sent you out with four. Surely no one escapes the Great Mandalorian?"

"The last was dead on arrival. Body retrieval wasn't an option."

Baast fought not to shudder and looked down when Grogu tapped her chest. A wave of soothing calm went through her, and she forced herself to relax.

Karga peered at Din for a long time before his gaze shifted to Baast. "You know, the last time you refused to turn in a bounty - or rather when you liberated a bounty after turning them in - they wound up bound to you. If I were the suspicious sort, I would wonder at the sudden appearance of a riduur and lack of a fourth body."

Din didn't move, he said nothing, yet it was as if he grew bigger and sucked the air from the room. The swelling wave of menace left Baast breathless.

Then Karga grinned. "Good thing I'm not the suspicious sort."

The heavy feeling subsided, and Baast sucked in a full breath.

"Should they ask, you tell them she's dead."

Karga nodded. "I'll log the information myself." Then, he opened a drawer and reached inside before sliding an ingot of beskar across the table. "For your trouble."

Din visually stiffened, betraying his surprise. "Where did you get that?"

"Off the Imps after this last round of clean up."

"You have others?"

Karga shook his head before throwing a handful of credits down beside it. "That should make us even."

"It does. Get your cargo off my ship." Everything went in a pouch on Din's belt.

Karga pressed a button on his desk. "Tana'ya, send the boys."

The bodies encased in carbonite would soon be off the ship. While Baast didn't mind them, the bodies within were in stasis - dreamless and without emotion - their startled or angry faces were slightly disturbing. 

"Now, a question for your lady before you leave," Karga smiled, and Baast went still. The man was far too interested in her. "Is it true Mandalorian wives put off their armour when they decide to have little warriors?"

Baast snorted. "Di'kutla. Anade knows gar ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya."

Again Din stiffened, betraying himself in a way Baast was not used to. "She says, "Foolish. Everyone knows you train your sons to be strong, but your daughters to be stronger.'" Almost too low to hear, he murmured, "My woman is all warrior."

Pride filled her and straightened her spine before despair crashed down. She could not be his woman. She could not condemn him to half a life if their bonds failed.

Grogu's hands caressed her face, comfort offered in the gesture.

She bent and kissed his wrinkled green head. "Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad," she whispered, claiming what might be her only opportunity to have a child by adopting this one. "I know your name as my child," she translated near his large ear when his gentle curiosity filled her, the two of them hidden beneath her hood.

He cooed and patted her face, encouraging her not to give up hope, but Baast had lost hope years ago with her first mutation. Hope was a hard thing to cling to when one's teeth fell out.

The distressed cry from Grogu - who had the misfortune of picking up on that particularly disturbing memory - had Din before them in an instant. He dropped to a knee to sit Baast back when she hadn't even realized she was slumping forward over her knees. 

He peered into the shadows of the deep hood. "Baast?"

"It is nothing," she whispered, fighting tears and a trembling lip.

"Mando?" Karga murmured, sounding genuinely concerned.

Din spoke over his shoulder. "Shut down your recording devices and give us a moment… please."

Karga appeared stunned by the please before pressing a button on his desk. He headed for the door but paused to open a small cabinet. "There is water here should she need it." 

The quiet click of the door closing announced his exit before Din was thrusting back her hood. "Baast, what is it?"

"Nothing," she whispered, closing her eyes, her heart tearing itself in two.

Soft and warm, his bare hands cradled her face and swept the tears spilling from her eyes away. "This isn't nothing. I want to help. Let me."

"You cannot help this," she insisted. "I am too broken."

"You're not broken. Baast, tell me what's wrong?"

Unable to hold out against his kindness, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him with Grogu safe between them. "I realized I would never have warriors. I will never know the joy of growing a new life. The closest I will ever come to being a mother is with Grogu."

Though he held her gently, it was a little stiff. It made her think he hadn't hugged many people or any, but eventually, his arms tightened, and hands began to stroke tenderly along her spine. "You don't know that."

"If I cannot bond with my mate, I cannot breed," she whispered the horrible truth into his cowl.

His hands stilled. She could almost feel him processing that information. Then, ever so gently, he murmured, "Aliit ori'shya tal'din."

Family is more than blood.

She clung tighter and wept into the beskar of her star-crossed mate.

***

Din kept his hand on Baast's hooked at his elbow as they walked through the market on their way back to the ship. She was subdued, far too quiet after her revelation. When he took her down the aisle where they sold clothing, she picked what she needed and nothing more.

He added to the pile, haggled down the price and hauled the sack of new things over his shoulder before offering his arm. His whole body ached for her. He didn't know what to say, what to do, how to comfort her after this. 

It had reduced the once-proud set of her jaw to a resigned tuck as she walked silently beside him. She was despondent and not at all the proud, fierce Zentari he knew her to be. 

Maker ! He didn't know how to snap her out of this self-induced funk. 

When she yanked him, beskar and all, into a narrow alleyway between two booths, Din wondered if he would have to. "Baast?"

"Someone comes for you," she growled, removing her hand from his armour, likely to open herself to this person's mind. "They are intent on finding you."

He was already reaching for his blaster. "Do they mean us harm?"

"I cannot tell. I can just feel the urgency. They are after you. Come." Baast turned and sprinted down the alley.

Din went after her, amazed by her agility as she went up the corner of two buildings and over a roof as smoothly as she'd run down the street. He followed with only slightly less grace and paced her as they ran silently above the market.

She swung around a corner and came to a stop on the balcony of a two-story home before throwing back her hood. "They persist." She handed him Grogu before snaking the beskar spear from his back.

"Baast, let me-" 

She growled so fiercely Din took a step in retreat. "They come for you, not me. I will stop them. Go. Get Grogu to the ship."

"I'm not leaving you here!" he insisted.

Baast snarled and snapped her teeth together before shrugging her cloak to the ground and going up the wall. She was gone so fast, he barely had time to register her disappearance before a sharp cry and harsh grunt rang out a few buildings back. 

"Kriff!" he hissed, snatching up her cloak before running after her.

He leapt the space between buildings in time to watch Baast take Cara Dune's feet out from under her and put the ex-shock trooper on her ass. Then his spear was headed for Cara's chest.

"Baast, stop!"

She did, so sharply and with so much control she went from in motion to motionless in an instant. "You know this one?"

"She's a friend."

Baast stepped back, dropped the butt of the spear to the ground and scowled at him. "You have too many."

He threw her the cloak, she tossed him the spear, both catching their items in the same instant. It sent a funny flutter to his heart. 

As Baast shrugged back into her cloak, Din crossed to Cara and held down his hand. 

She glared up at him, sporting a black eye and bloody lip. "Maker, Mando. Where'd you find this one?"

Baast hissed like an angry cat before tucking her braids into her hood and lifting it over her head.

He was finding this all too amusing and too damn close to his dream to be real. "Cara Dune, Baast'mal."

Grogu cooed and reached with grabby hands for Cara, who accepted Din's and let him haul her to her feet. "Hey! Womp rat! I've missed you."

She reached for the kid, but the low growl from Baast had the three of them glancing her way. Her hands were clenched in fists, and though he could no longer see her eyes, he knew she glared at the lack of space between Grogu and Dune.

"Nayc," Baast growled.

"Why?" Din asked.

"Kaysh cuyir ner adiik."

He was only surprised for a moment. After her earlier emotions, it shouldn't have phased him she'd taken Grogu as her child.

"She is a friend," he murmured. "You can trust her with Grogu."

"Grogu?" Cara muttered. "Mando, what the kriff is this?"

"Ni taylir him o'r ner kar'ta," Baast growled, clenching her fists.

Din held out his hand, Grogu strangely silent like any Mandalore child would be when an unknown female attempted to touch the heart bound child of another. Grogu wasn't just a foundling to Baast, not anymore. She had accepted him as her child. 

This could all go sideways if he wasn't careful.

"Olaror," Din murmured, beckoning Baast to his side. "Udesla." He encouraged her to be calm when she arrived and placed her hand in his. "Haalur," he whispered for her ears alone. "No one will take him from us, but Dune has helped me get him back and keep him safe. You can trust her."

"I trust you," Baast sighed, her hand again finding its way to his elbow. "This place makes my hackles jump."

Suddenly, Cara wavered, her body rocking before she dropped to one knee. "Mando?" She fell to her side and rolled to her back. Her breath came hard and fast as dark lines raced to show her veins beneath her flesh. 

"That looks like poison," Din stated, handing Grogu to Baast before dropping down beside Cara.

"It is."

He glanced up in time to watch Baast throw back her hood and kneel beside him. "What are you talking about?

She held up an index finger and flexed it gently. From beneath the black nail emerged a sharp spine that glistened at the hollow tip. "They called it my Snake Tooth. It is full of Sand Cat venom. It appears I caught her with it. I thought her foe at the time."

"Maker," Din whispered. 

Dune was a dead woman.

"Give me your cuisse," Baast commanded as she set Grogu down, then batted his hands away. "No, ad'ika. It is more than you can heal. I will fix her."

"How?" Din asked as Dune began to claw at the ground. The pain must be excruciating, but she kept her teeth clenched.

"Your cuisse!" Baast snapped. "We have not much time." 

He began to unbuckle the thigh guard. "What are you going to do, Baast?"

The words barely cleared his lips before she reached into her mouth and yanked out a tooth. 

"Kriff!" he bellowed as blood dripped down her chin. "What was that?"

She swiped at her face, smearing blood before snatching his cuisse and turning it into a makeshift dish. "Your canteen."

He handed it over. "Baast?"

"I inherited the Manka's teeth. It is another reason they fight so hard to retrieve me." She ground the canteen down on the tooth, then added enough water to dissolve the powder before bringing his cuisse to Cara's blackening lips. "Drink and live."

Cara's wild eyes rolled to him, and Din nodded. She could trust Baast, even if the one had just tried to kill the other. 

Baast poured the liquid into Cara's mouth and made sure she swallowed before handing the thigh guard back to Din.

"How long does it take-"

"What the kriff is going on here!" Cara spat as she launched herself into a seated position, black lines receding like they were being erased.

"Hn. I see," Din chuckled. Faster than he had expected. He pulled a rag from his pocket, one always close at hand with Grogu around and dumped water on it before reaching to clean the blood from Baast's face. "How long until the tooth regrows?"

"Three weeks." Baast's lashes fluttered. She leaned into his hand like a cat enjoying the petting.

It made him sick, wondering how she knew that with such assurance. How many times had her torturers pulled her teeth? 

"You will want to avoid alcohol for the next full day. The powder will not allow harm to befall you. That includes pouring poison into your liver," Baast warned.

"What did you just do to me?" Cara demanded. 

"Saved your life. In the process, the Manka teeth make you invulnerable to harm for the next day." Baast lunged and laid Cara out, her sharp claws clenched around Cara's neck. "Do not waste this gift, and do not speak of it to anyone," she snarled.

"Or what?" Cara forced out. "I'm invulnerable to harm."

"I can still tear out your throat. Even my abilities cannot repair that." Baast gave her a bloody smile that was terrifying to see before releasing Dune and retrieving Grogu.

"I see you've made a new friend," Dune muttered. "She'd be hot if she wasn't terrifying."

Din smirked and helped Cara to her feet. "She is something."

She looked at him and arched a brow. "I think you like her."

He said nothing.

"Maker! You do!" Cara laughed and shook her head. "You know Karga thinks you married her. That she's something called a riduur? I said there's no way, not our Mando, but now I'm not sure." 

She peered up at him as if she could see through the visor. Din stared back until she huffed and shook her head. 

"Well, she fights dirty, so I guess that's a good thing. I never even felt her scratch me with that snake thingy."

"Snake Tooth," he murmured, watching Baast smile at Grogu as the little one played with the end of her braid.

"And she's sure not hard on the eyes," Dune murmured.

Jealousy soured Din's stomach. Baast was not his to covet, yet he wanted to. He wanted everyone to see how mesh'la she was, but he also wanted to hide her beauty away, let it be just for him to admire.

"What did you want, Dune?" he asked coldly.

She appeared to shake herself from Baast's thrall and turned toward him. "I just wanted to see the kid and check-in before you left again. Nothing exciting ever happens around here unless you're involved," she grinned.

"Was this excitement enough?" Din asked, amused.

"Nah," Cara scoffed. "That's a typical afternoon," she chuckled.

He snickered, watching Baast's face light up when Grogu chattered in coos and babbles. She murmured to him, spoke Mando'a so low she probably thought he couldn't hear her, but he could. He could hear her calling him sweet baby as she stroked his ear before she lifted him beneath her chin and rumbled that sound that made the thing in his chest purr back. 

If that didn't quit, he would have to get it checked by the covert's resident healer. 

It couldn't be healthy.

***

Pirusti met - well met

Nayc - no

Kaysh cuyir ner adiik - he is my child

Ni taylir him o'r ner kar'ta - I hold him in my heart

Olaror - come

Udesla - calm

Haalur - breathe

ad'ika - little one

***

Next Chapter

#star-crossed:bound by blood #star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x ofc

[themalhambird]

Growing Up Broken: I Talk About My (A)sexuality For 4 ¼ Pages.

I am asexual.

No, this doesn’t mean that I’m some form of plant budding off copies of myself if I get enough water and sunlight. It’s a shame. I could do a lot with multiple copies of myself- get someone else to do the dishes, the cleaning, my schoolwork…

I am asexual.

Asexuality is the absence of sexual desires or feelings for other people. I say absence deliberately: sexual attraction is not something that I lack or am missing. I am not going without. I’m just a 23 year old who has never once felt the desire to have sex with another person, who couldn’t describe how it feels to “fancy” someone if there was a gun to their head, who thinks women and men and anyone in between can sometimes be stunningly beautiful, would possibly be nice to cuddle- but kissing on the mouth seems like it would be a really weird thing to do.

I am asexual, and it’s almost Pride Month, and so I want to untangle some of the thoughts in my head and spin them out on to paper, to try and lay out my feelings about my sexuality, or lack thereof, and what it’s like growing up when no one bothers to tell you that not experiencing sexual desire like, ever, is a thing. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

It’s 2014. Puberty has doing stuff to me for the last two years or so: periods (urgh), breasts (neat!), underarm hair (why do I have to shave this? no one’s gonna see it), growth spurts (I’m getting taller than my older sister. I want to keep going till I’m taller than mum). The only thing not happening is wanting to have sex, something the nurse who came to Talk To Us All About Growing Up back in 2009 assured us Year Sixes would definitely happen as soon as puberty hit.

Still. It’ll happen soon, probably. Sixteen is still a bit too young to be having sexual feelings, right? The boys…really not interesting at all, but the other girls are pretty. I like their hair. I like the shape of their bodies. I just don’t fancy any of them. When we’re told to imagine our future husbands or wives in class (don’t ask my why, I’ve long forgotten the point of the exercise, I just remember that) I picture a wife.

(Lesbian is the first label I apply to myself. I stick it on tentatively- keep peeling it off my shirt and putting it back somewhere different like I’m not quite sure where it fits. It’s not wrong, necessarily. I’m just not certain it’s right. I like girls a whole lot better but I’m not saying I could never love a guy. I’m just not attracted to them. I’m not attracted to women, either- but I feel like I will be. When I’m old enough to feel that kind of thing. )

Sex Ed lessons are mortifying. We’re asked to list all the sexual terms we know on an A3 sheet of paper. I don’t know what half the things other people say mean- blowjob, 69, masturbate, porn . I don’t know how other people know these things either. We’re sixteen. It’s too young.

That summer I play Sebastian in an abridged version of Twelfth Night and it convinces me to take Drama at A-level, although I didn’t at GCSE. The drama classes teach me two things. First of all, I don’t like acting women. I prefer breeches rolls. I don’t know why. We’re talking about my asexuality, not my gender confusion, so let’s put a pin in that and move on to point two. My drama class teaches me that everyone my age is having sex, or wants to have sex, or is planning on having sex soon; sex is a constant, every class, every conversation. Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex. So apparently sixteen (seventeen) isn’t too young after all.

It’s like this. One day you wake up and you realise that everyone else is speaking a language you don’t understand. Suddenly, sexual feelings aren’t something that no one your age is having but you’ll all develop soon- it’s that sexual feelings are something that everybody your age is having apart from you. People your age are dating, kissing, fucking, and it’s not something you’re interested in doing, necessarily, but you still feel so horribly left out. Like you’re missing some kind of major milestone. You try not to let it bother you- you watch Buffy every Monday you get to see your dad. (You watch loss of virginity be portrayed as growing up). You read. (The books you pick up all involve love and love always seems to at least imply sex). You- google things. You google the words you didn’t understand in that sex ed class. You google “how to tell if you’re attracted to someone” in case there’s some secret signal your body sent you that you missed. You feel like you should know if you’ve ever felt sexual attraction but then maybe you’re just really, really dumb. Maybe there’s something wrong with you. The NHS website reckons that if you’ve got a low sex drive you ought to see a doctor. The girls in your drama class keep talking about boys and sex and sex and boys and you aren’t really interested in either of those things. You cling to the thought, lesbian and hope that when you get to university, you’ll stop being so repressed. Girls are pretty- but the ones at school are either your friends or kind of mean. Of course you don’t fancy anyone there. University. University will save you. (Boys are sometimes pretty too. There are boys at school whose personalities are nice enough- who are the type of man you wouldn’t mind dating one day maybe- but you can’t ever picture yourself having sex with one. Dicks seem weird and really not the kind of thing you’d want inside you. I mean for fuck’s sake- why? You can’t even get a tampon in.)

I don’t like looking back on this. Sixteen, seventeen year old me was starting to get pretty freaked out. I like looking back at the first year of uni even less, because if seventeen year old me was freaking out, eighteen year old me was buying alcohol. That’s how it goes, right? Sex and alcohol. You see it all the time on T.V. Fictional people get fictional drunk and fictional cheat while they’re on fictional breaks with their fictional partners. David Tennant is pretty. A man at work is handsome and more importantly intelligent, into Shakespeare, into good conversation. The label switches from lesbian to ‘bisexual but heavily skewed toward women’ and I cling to that as tightly as possible because after that, I’m out of options. It is impossible that I’m not feeling sexual attraction: the whole world screams about sexual fucking attraction all the fucking time, I’m obviously just too uptight, I obviously just need to relax-

I once drank a whole bottle of wine in what was essentially one go. I paused for breath, but that was about it- I don’t think I even bothered with a glass. My goal was to get myself drunk enough that I could feel sexual attraction. I thought that the best way to go about things- to finally ‘grow up’- would be to get super drunk, and then leave the flat and find someone who would screw me. I reasoned that I would enjoy it once I was doing it- after all, the whole world pushes sex as this wholly desirable thing for any normal adult to want, even need- so I would like it once I was doing it and then I would be fixed. Fortunately, drinking a whole bottle of wine when you’ve never had more than a single glass of champagne or a couple of glasses of rum and apple juice before in your life gets you past “lowered inhibitions” to “can’t walk straight or upright” very quickly. I got as far as the bathroom, threw up, a lot, and staggered back to my room. I woke up at 3 pm the next afternoon feeling stupid for drinking, and mad at myself for still being a virgin.

I had a lot of problems in my first year of university and not all of them were about my sexuality crisis. I was isolated, fairly friendless, and not really cut out for socialising with my housemates who were probably all lovely people, but I find new people painfully difficult and hiding away seemed easier. But the feeling that there was something broken inside me because I wasn’t experiencing what everything seemed to be telling me was one of the most vital parts of the human experience- sexual attraction to other people- contributed to my general feelings of self-loathing and disgust. I attempted to induce sexual desire in myself by drinking on several further occasions, although never quite to the same extent as the first time. I’m not sure whether this counts as self-harm, but it certainly wasn’t healthy.

I didn’t know asexuality was a thing.

I knew I wasn’t straight- I’d known that for a while. I learnt that I enjoyed reading, talking, even writing about sex, as long as it was sex between people who weren’t real, but fantasising about fictional characters having sex and fantasying about myself having sex are two very different things. The former happened fairly frequently. The latter didn’t happen once, and still never has. My second year at university was better than my first: I was living with friends, I was further away from campus which meant I had to walk more, which probably helped, I had also started to make several friends online with whom I could happily chat even when I wasn’t in the mood for ‘actual’ people. I used bisexual to describe myself because on the rare occasions I thought about romance, I couldn’t really see myself ruling out anyone who was willing to put up with me.

I’m not quite clear when I first heard the term ‘asexuality’. I became aware of it gradually. Someone I followed on Tumblr identified as ‘grey-ace’. Characters from my favourite fantasy series were being headcanoned as ‘asexual’. At some point I must have learnt properly what that meant.

It sometimes feels like there ought to have been a lightbulb moment- like I should have seen the word, seen the definition, and instantly seen myself. But it is very, very hard to delete the message- ‘sex is important- sex is what grown-ups do- sex is what you should want to do’ – that the world constantly sends to us: in advertising, in entertainment, in the conversations of a drama class that always circled back to that topic, to the detriment of the sole seventeen year old who wasn’t really bothered. To embrace asexuality seemed like I was giving up on trying to fix myself, on waiting for the right person to come and make everything better. On the potential of their being a right person. I can wrap my head around people having casual sex very easily. It’s romantic love without sexual desire that I’m scared won’t work- how am I supposed to know if it’s love without there also being physical attraction? No romance arc that I had ever seen was without an element of sexual tension. So, no lightbulb moment for me. No switch going off- “aha, at last, that’s what I am!”. Just a gradual thought washing across my mind every now and then, like the tide rushing up a patch of sand and drawing straight back, leaving only dampness to show where there had been a good half-inch of water only a moment ago.

I might be asexual?

And ‘I might’ becomes ‘I think I am’, and the tide starts coming in. ‘I think I am’ became ‘I am’ at some point or other.

I am asexual.

I find reassurance in knowing that there’s a word for what I am, for how I (do not) feel. I am asexual. Not broken, or damaged, or too uptight to properly feel, or too dumb to recognise what I do feel. I am asexual- I have an absence of any sexual desire for others and that’s perfectly okay. I might fall in love one day. I might not. I don’t know how you’re supposed to know if you have the capacity to fall in love before you find yourself doing it. It might be nice to have a wife. It would also be nice to have a cat. I could cope with it just being me, a cat, and good friends for the rest of my life. If I fall in love- if I am capable of falling in love- it will just mean I am asexual, but romantic, and I will have learnt something new about myself. The point is-

The point is, I am incredibly lucky that I stumbled across Asexuality before I got myself hurt trying to force something that wasn’t there. The point is, this world assumes that sexual desires are the norm, and maybe they are, but that just makes it all the more important that people know that they aren’t abnormal for not experiencing sexual desire. To all the people who need to hear it: You are not broken. You are not alone.

I’m not sure how to wrap this up. I feel like I should say something profound or something. But I think I’m just gonna leave it like this:

I am asexual. Asexuality is the absence of sexual desires or feelings for other people. I say absence deliberately: sexual attraction is not something that I lack or am missing. I am not going without. I’m just a 23 year old who has never once felt the desire to have sex with another person, who couldn’t describe how it feels to “fancy” someone if there was a gun to their head, who thinks women and men and anyone in between can sometimes be stunningly beautiful, and possibly be nice to cuddle- but kissing on the mouth seems like it would be a really weird thing to do. I am not broken. I am not ‘going through a phase’ or ‘looking for attention’ or ‘trying to be special’. Everyone’s special, fuck you. Knowing that I am not the only person to feel how I feel makes me feel like I’m standing on solid ground. May all people experiencing the same confusion and distress over their sexual orientation that I felt growing up find their way safely to the same solid ground: you are not broken. We’re not broken.

#asexuality #wow this got long #no i haven't proof read it i just wanted to get it off my chest #discussion of sex tw #alcohol tw #self harm tw #(mostly just in case I'm not sure if it counts or not) #I don't know what this is except a long winded account of growing up asexual when you don't know that's a thing and how you cope with that #or- y'know- don't cope with that #maybe someone else will find it helpful or relatable idk

[sleekervae]

The Neighbour [0.1]

Masterlist

Everything had played out like the rising action in a horror movie. And before the whole world's eyes, life on Earth had slowed to a snail-like crawl. Covid 19 was ravaging through cities and countries faster than a salmonella outbreak at a restaurant even Gordon Ramsay couldn't attempt to save. It was terrifying to watch, and even more terrifying to see work and interaction dry up so quickly. Especially for those who relied on social interaction to stay sane.

Luckily for Remington, he happened to be stuck with his brother when quarantine measures went into full effect.

It was no big deal living with Emerson, if anything, it was relatively more calm with two out of the three of them sharing a space. Sebastian and Larissa were staying well and safe in their own house, popping by now and again at the gate to check in on his little brothers. No doubt, it sucked. The album was pushed back, the tour called off, the only thing keeping the hype for 'The Bastards' release was social media.

At least Remington had comfort in the fact that he wouldn't have to endure this quarantine alone. Living in his own house all by himself, he'd probably drive himself up the wall and find himself hanging off the rafters (literally).

Tuesday morning was bright and warm, as they tended to be in LA. Emerson was sat comfortably at the kitchen table, drinking his usual cup of tea and reading the depressing headlines coming out of the news. Pepper was curled up at his feet, snoring softly and her little marshmallow body rising steadily. The neighbourhood was quiet, it always was, but it was especially tranquil these spring days in April. He simpered sardonically when he read the latest quote from the president, promising that the pandemic would pass come July.

His attention was gripped suddenly when he heard the low squeal of car tires. The youngest brother glanced outside the window, his dark eyes falling over the little blue Waivecar that had pulled up at the opposing apartment complex. Those cars had been coming back and forth for the last four days, with the same girl coming and going. And at night, the apartment facing the house would keep the lights on until two or three in the morning, but she wasn't partying. The most noise this girl made was the hum of her radio drifting out of an open window.

Clearly, whoever she was, she was still in the weeds of moving. Perhaps when she was settled, Emerson would go by and introduce himself, make her feel welcome. Considering how warm the climate was, this particular neighbourhood had a tendency to be quiet cold and private towards neighbours. No doubt many of them weren't a fan of the band and their at home antics.

Emerson was startled when his brother came bounding in, dressed in the same moppy grey sweats he had been practically living in for weeks. Thank goodness he wasn't wearing his heelys this time around; the other day he had crashed into the couch and flipped over onto the cushions, nearly smashing his head on the coffee table.

"The guys will be by in about half an hour," he said. Emerson narrowed his eyes at his older brother.

"He says as we're under strict orders from the state health officials to not see anybody," he murmured.

Remington pouted, running a hand through his evidently growing blonde hair. He pulled up a seat next to his brother, "Hey, you were the one who said it's getting too quiet around here. And besides, it's not like we're coming from opposite counties. Seb lives like four blocks down from us,"

"I'm just getting a little nervous, is all," Emerson shrugged, showing him the article on his tablet, "The numbers are still going up,"

"And they'll keep going up until they find a cure. And while they're doing that, we're going to be in the backyard playing soccer and eating pizza," Remington smiled.

"Who said we're having pizza?"

"I did. I just decided,"

"Maybe I want Mexican? Did you think about that?"

Across the street in the fresh red brick and black-trimmed apartment, three floors up from the ground and in direct line of the sun sat Eva. The twenty-four-year-old literary bachelor sat comfortably at her newly furnished desk, typing away at her laptop that was due for a battery change -- Eva just hadn't found the time to physically take it into the store. On her right she had a lukewarm cup of coffee, on the left her speaker which was softly blasting Tove Lo's new album. All the while, her bony fingers flew over the keyboard, her big stormy blue eyes skimming the words that sprinted across her document.

Eva got by as a writer, not a novelist or a poet, but as a ghost writer. She was hired to write materials for would-be authors and journalists, all of whom either didn't have the drive or commitment to write to the extent Eva did. Surprisingly, she made some pretty good money just off that. And while that work tended to be dry and bleak, Eva had spent her free time writing various fanfictions -- mostly for Hannibal and Criminal Minds. She happened to be quite prolific on Tumblr because of her literary fantasies.

And while her work was often isolating, Eva didn't live alone by any means. She had her pale tabby, Pluto, to keep her company. He was snoozing on the couch, despite how often Eva had trained him not to do that when he was a kitten.

She had just returned from an early morning run from the grocery store -- having learned the hard way that despite the pandemic, people will continue to flock to the stores in droves and it's almost impossible to social distance within them. As if moving out of her old apartment wasn't hard enough, now she had to deal with hastily late movers, jumbled lease agreements, and a pandemic.

In the throws of bittersweet silence, Eva's concentration was broke when a shrill alarm had her nearly jumping out of her seat. It was only her phone, the screen lighting up with a 'Blocked' ID. Eva smiled wickedly and declined the call.

The young writer pushed her rolley chair away from the desk and did a stretch, her head turning towards the house across the street. She figured a couple of frat boys shared the place, they had a few of their friends over from time to time but they were relatively quiet. The most she would hear out of them is some smack talk coming from the backyard.

Pluto's head popped up from the couch, then he leapt onto the floor and trotted over to the window sill, hopping up to spy on the unfamiliar car that was pulling up to the house. Eva could hardly care less. There was a statewide order to see only a small group of people as little as possible, and as long as the neighbours wouldn't bother her, she wouldn't bother them.

It was a shame, as if having to meet new people wasn't difficult enough for her...

A few hours passed and soon the silence in the Los Angeles neighbourhood was broken by the grunts and thwacks of a backyard game of pool basketball. The boys and a few of their friends were all the more engaged in their game while their girls sat aside on deck chairs under the beating sun. Under the shade of the pergola, their friend Andrew was grilling some sausages -- beef and tofu -- on the barbecue.

Remington was taking the piss out of Sebastian for being all over his girl, but who the hell could blame the kid? There was a new rush of life in the guitarist's face whenever the topic of Larissa came up. The same could be said for Emerson and Shy. Remington wouldn't dare admit he was a little jealous of his brothers' happiness, so he'd settle for loving his brothers but torturing them at every opportunity.

Breaking out from the cold water, Emerson gripped tightly to the rubber red ball in his hand. Just as Sebastian came to take a running dive into the pool, he reared the ball back and hucked it at his older brother, nailing him square in the chest. Instead of a graceful dive, Sebastian flailed sideways and crashed into the water. The ball ricocheted onto the deck and bounced away towards the front yard.

"Oh my God!"

"Emerson!" Shy scolded, a little horrified and yet not surprised at her boyfriend's actions. Sebastian broke out of the water and shook his hair out of his eyes. It was more his pride and the laughter of his friends that hurt than the fading sting of rubber against skin.

Emerson meanwhile just giggled happily as he high-fived Remington.

"You guys fucking suck!" Sebastian glowered at the younger boys.

At the same time, Eva had given up on work for the day. As random as it was, she decided she'd try to make bread: the apparent trend that was surging during this quarantine. She bought all the things she would need this morning.

Stepped a few feet into the kitchen, she pushed open the window a brisk breeze flooding in and freshening up the air. Her attention was skewed to the house across the street, hearing some mild echoes of conversation and the thrum of a radio in the air.

She went to gather her ingredients and tools, however, as she turned to fetch an apron she realized something was missing: the patter of feet behind her. Pluto was usually Eva's shadow whenever he was in the kitchen, always the opportunistic cat he was. However, he wasn't on the couch. He wasn't in his bed. He wasn't snooping around in her closet or hiding under the desk.

"Where'd the ball go?" Daniel called, clinging to the ledge of the pool.

"I'll get it" Remington swam to the ladder and pulled himself out of the water. He shook out his sopping blonde hair, unintentionally shaking his ass in his colorful swim trunks. Their friend, Michael, whistled from the pool. Remington only smirked on him.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, hunny," he sassed, waving his hand and ducked off to fetch the ball.

Puzzled, Eva grabbed Pluto's favorite bag of cat treats and shook it, the sound was always able to bring him out -- when he was within ten feet of the treats. The fact that he didn't appear told Eva that he must've gone out the window once again to wreak havoc.

With an irritated huff, she switched out her house slippers for her sandals and hightailed it out with the bag of treats.

The red rubber pool ball had rolled across the grass and lodged itself into a bush at the fence. Remington was awash in frigid goosebumps, not even the California heat could will away the pool's chill quick enough. Nevertheless, he crawled down and retrieved the ball from the brambles, swatting off what little dirt he could. However, his fixation swerved to the complex across the street when he heard a heavy slam.

"Pluto!" a young girl came charging out of the apartment complex, dressed in a slightly wrinkled white t-shirt and her jaw-length hair swivelled smoothly around her face as she frantically looked up and down the street, "Pluto!" she was shaking a little yellow bag.

Remington looked up and down the quiet street, almost expecting to see Pluto the Dog standing at the corner like Cartoon Cat. He glanced down quizzically at the ball, then back at the young woman.

Eva rubbed the stress lines on her forehead out of pure frustration. This wasn't the first time Pluto ran off, he always came back. However, the damn cat would always find ways to stir up trouble; rowling up dogs, plucking fish from little ponds, scratching at hanging laundry.

"Pluto!!" she shook the bag of treats.

"Hey!" Remington called, waving his hand to the stranger, "You alright?"

Eva glanced at the owner of that soft, yet scratchy voice. She hadn't even noticed the bleach blonde kid standing in the glint of the sun. Eva crossed the street and stood a few feet from the gate, keeping more than two meters distance.

"I'm sorry. Have you happen to see a cat running around? He's a pale tabby, couple black stripes, likes to chew shoes," she shrugged.

Remington only shook his head, "Sorry. I'm afraid not," he smiled sheepishly, "Did -- did you say he was a cat?"

"Yeah,"

"And you named your cat 'Pluto'? Like -- the dog?"

Eva smirked, but shook her head, unable to help but glance at the tattoos that crossed over this boy's torso, "He's named after The Black Cat," she said, "You ever read Edgar Allan Poe?"

Remington smiled sheepishly, "Oh right, right! I haven't read that in a while, actually. He named the cat after the Roman God for death,"

Eva smiled pleasantly, not having pegged this boy to know so much about EAP, "That's right. I wanted a black cat to fit with the theme but the damn tabby stole my heart,"

"He knew what he was doing, obviously," Remington grinned, "I'll keep an eye for him though, if I happen to --" he was cut short however when he heard Pepper start yapping from the backyard. The yapping was followed by the clanging of metal and a screeching yrowl.

"What the fuck?" Andrew suddenly shouted, “Where’d this cat come from!?”

Panic flooded over Eva's face and Remington didn't think twice to open the gate and let her in. Social distancing aside, they two of them rushed into the backyard to find a tray of sausages had crashed onto the floor, the meat had rolled everywhere. Shy clung to Pepper as the little pomeranien yapped and growled incessantly at the scruffy tabby on the patio table, back arched and hissing at the dog while he guarded his captured sausage.

Eva was understandably horrified.

"What the hell happened here?" Remington asked, just as in shock over the mess.

"Cat came out of nowhere and dive bombed our lunch!" Daniel replied, having just crawled out of the pool.

"Pluto!" Eva ran to the table and scooped up the snarling cat, Pepper was still yapping away, "What is the matter with you?" she scolded at Pluto before turning to Remington and Andrew, who still wielded the metal tongs in his hand, "I am so frickin' sorry!"

"No, no, it's okay," Andrew shook his head, glancing at the lost sausages longingly, "I was kind of craving sushi, anyways,"

"It's no big deal, honestly," Remington assured her, "Five second rule applies, I'm sure,"

"It's been about thirty-seven seconds," Sebastian spoke flatly.

"Since when were you counting?"

Larissa was the only one who didn't seem annoyed or surprised at the feline intruder. She smiled warmly at the young girl, "Is this your cat?"

"Unfortunately," Eva grinned sheepishly, "I should know better. He's in a new area and he tends to get into trouble. Also, if anyone happens to lose a shoe, he did it, and I'm apologizing in advance," she pointed a finger at the now calmed tabby.

Shy smiled, "Well, Pepper's no better. She tends to think she's a way bigger dog," she held up and coddled the fluffy pomeranian. Eva smiled awkwardly, only now noting that she forgot to grab a face mask. And here she was: in a backyard full of strangers in a pandemic.

"Wait, I recognize you," Emerson said, "You just moved across the street, right?"

"Yeah, that's me. Eva," she nodded, "Great first impression, right?"

"You couldn't do any worse than Curcio over here," Sebastian grinned, "Remember the split pants?"

"You're going to hang that over my head for the rest of my life, aren't you?" Daniel glowered.

"Maybe," Emerson turned back to Eva, "I'm Emerson, that's Sebastian, Daniel, Larissa, Michael, Shy, Andrew... and you've already met Remington, I see,"

"The best looking one," Remington grinned.

Eva nodded, "Well, it was very nice meeting you all, I should get going, though. And again, I'm so sorry about the cat,"

Remington shrugged, "It's just sausages. We can get more," he assured her, "Here, I'll walk you out,"

"Thanks," Eva smiled, keeping Pluto close to her chest as she passed Shy and Pepper. Pepper gave one last fleeting bark as the cat passed by. Pluto simply licked his lips.

Michael couldn't help but lean over as he caught one last glance at the new neighbour, then turning to Emerson, "How come you get the pretty neighbour?"

The drummer shrugged, reaching over to grab the rubber ball that Remington dropped at the end of the pool, "Dumb luck?"

#palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #emerson barrett #sebastian danzig #boy bands #band imagines #band imagine blog #original story #original female character

[utxpri]

I know you write for diabolik lovers too, so let's make some boys cry.Let's say Quartet night and the sakamaki triplets switched places. Like, instead of those three,it was quartet night. How do you think they'd be, growing up in such a household, with such a horrid mother? Which role would each of them play? What sorts of trauma would be inflicted? How would their personalities and mindsets differ in this scenario? How would they interact with the other brothers? want to see these boys ~squirm~

Oooooooh, this is fun. OwO I’m going with Cordy still being mom, but everything else is gonna get messed around with. 

It’s also uhhh... interesting to have two Reiji’s. We’ll assume that he has a different name within the Au, but I’ll still use “Reiji” here so we know who we’re talking about.

. . . 

I don’t think that the exact roles would be mirrored, especially since there are four of them instead of three. Instead, things are a little more... versatile. Cordelia still has her “heir”, who in this case, I think would be Ranmaru. He’s the one who Cordelia sees the most potential in, since Reiji is too good-natured and doesn’t take things seriously enough. Ranmaru is the one who bears the brunt of having to be the “best”. And it fucks him up about the same way that it does Ayato. 

His rough, coarse nature is heightened to a dangerous extent, with him paralleling Subaru in terms of violence and lashing out. At the same time that he’s a violent asshole who takes his frustration out on everyone around him, Ranmaru still has triggers. His mother terrifies him— and failure is worse. If he feels like he’s messed up on something, he spirals. Just like Ayato, he acts like he’s the best person in the world to cover up how he feels like he can never measure up to what’s expected of him. 

Camus is her “toy”. Since he most resembles Karlheinz out of the lot of them, Cordelia picks him to use. Camus grows up with the same warped view of “love” that Laito holds, but instead of turning into the happy-go-lucky pervert as Laito does, he goes cold. Camus puts on his mask so that no one knows how broken he feels. He does become something of a womanizer, easily seducing his prey and using the sex appeal he’s learned against them. It makes sense for him to put on that warm, friendly, polite front instead of showing how frigid he is. Even his brothers see more of that side than his true nature. 

Camus actively dislikes acting like “himself”, since that was never what got him places with his mother. He has a very cynical, jaded view of the world just like Laito, believing that there’s no such thing as love and genuine bonds between people.

Reiji is one of the ones who mostly goes forgotten. Cordelia just plain doesn’t like him. As a child, he’d fight for her attention by being clingy and trying everything to get her eyes on him. He was very social and just wanted people to like him. But much like Shuu, he wound up making a human friend to fill the void... who Cordelia killed herself so that he’d “learn”. That fucked Reiji up. Like Camus, he’s very two-faced. He still acts like himself, but inside, part of him has died. His perpetual smile and teasing, jovial nature covers up the fact that he’s completely empty on the inside. 

It’s impossible for Reiji to believe that there’s happiness in the world— or at least, that it would ever come to him. He still loves his family and feels strongly for all of them, but there’s a distance in the sense that Reiji never really opens up. He’s got some disturbing tendencies behind the back that he uses as coping mechanisms, and some of these include a fixation on humans and how they live. 

Ai, meanwhile, also went mostly forgotten. What it did to him was make him shut down. Behaving almost robotically, Ai is a creature of logic whose feelings have left him. He has trouble mustering up emotional responses to anything and exists in a state of merely responding to what happens around him. He wanted his mother’s attention when he was very small, but in the end, he gave up on it and turned himself into something unfeeling. 

He likes to “experiment” with humans and vampires alike and has a bit of an obsession with studying and learning about the emotions that other people have. To others, he appears creepy and vacant, almost not with the world. No one can really get through to him. Nothing matters to him. All Ai cares about is living one day to the next and satisfying his instincts however he sees fit. 

As for how their sadistic natures work, Ranmaru is the violent sadist. He resembles Subaru and Yuuma in a lot of ways, but he’s not as tsun as Subaru and a lot smarter and more calculating than Yuuma. He’s a cruel, vicious type who wants to see everyone bow before him and obey. 

Camus is cold. He acts amiable and proper... right up until he has his prey cornered. And even when he’s got the mask up, his true tendencies often shine through. He simply doesn’t care what his prey feels. He’ll use them to his amusement regardless of what it does to them or how they respond. All that matters is getting what he wants. 

Reiji tends to be just plain fucked up. He’s fixated on human nature and how they work and enjoys pushing his prey to their limits just to see what they’re like when they break. Subconsciously, he wants to make everyone he hurts feel exactly as broken as he does, so he does things that are intended to shatter them beyond repair. He acts cheerful and friendly until the moment where it becomes apparent that he just wants them to suffer. 

And lastly, Ai is the Kanato-like, disturbing one. He conducts experiments into human emotions and responses... which mostly amount to torturing people just to see what happens. He kills his prey quickly and has that same tendency to play with their corpses until he gets bored. 

When it comes to interacting with each other, the relationships are strained. Reiji is generally disliked for how hyper and bubbly he behaves. Camus isolated himself from the others because he simply doesn’t want to interact. Ai is on fairly neutral grounds with the other three, although they do find him to be creepy. Ranmaru looks down on his brothers and treats them more like servants and lessers than family. That said, they had a strong bond as children, and this still kicks in once in a while. They do care for each other deep down. If one of them is truly suffering or in trouble, the others will step in... even though they have to preserve their pride when they do it. 

#Utapri #Uta no Prince Sama #Ai #Mikaze Ai #Reiji #Kotobuki Reiji #Ranmaru #Kurosaki Ranmaru #Camus #Headcanon #Diabolik Lovers