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univarsal01 · 1 year

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Sam Bankman-Fried And CEO of FXT crypto Collapse in cryptoworld

Sam Bankman-Fried, a billionaire in the cryptocurrency sector, went from being the industry's leader to its villain in less than a week, lost the majority of his wealth, watched his $32 billion company go bankrupt, and was the subject of investigations by the Securities and Exchange Commission and the Justice Department.

But he seemed unusually composed in a lengthy interview on Sunday that went far into midnight. You would've assumed that I wouldn't be sleeping at all right now, but I actually am, he added. It may become worse.

After a run on deposits left his cryptocurrency exchange, FTX, with a $8 billion shortfall, pushing the company into bankruptcy, Mr. Bankman-empire, Fried's which was once likened to financial heavyweights like Warren Buffett and John Pierpont Morgan, fell apart last week.

to make a bankruptcy claim. The harm has extended across the sector, bringing down other cryptocurrency businesses and fueling broad scepticism of the technology.

Mr. Bankman-Fried, 30, hasn't spoken much in public during the last week except from a few tweets, emails to staff, and sporadic texts to reporters. In the Sunday interview, he expressed several sorrow for the demise of FXT

However, he would only provide scant information about the main issues that were circling him, such as whether FTX had inappropriately utilised billions of dollars in client cash to support Alameda Research, a trading company that he also created. The SEC and Justice Department are investigating this connection.

According to Mr. Bankman-Fried, Alameda had built up a sizable "margin position" on FTX, which effectively meant it had borrowed money from the exchange. It was far bigger than I had anticipated, he remarked. In reality, there was a huge negative risk. The position's magnitude, he claimed, was in the billions of dollars, but he would not go into greater detail.

However, Mr. Bankman-Fried agreed with those in the crypto community who said he had increased his company. interests in a large area of the industry too rapidly. He said that because of his other obligations, he had missed warning indications that FTX was in peril.

He said, "I could have been more thorough if I had been a little more focused on what I was doing. "That would have given me the opportunity to notice what was happening on the danger side."

Based in the Bahamas, Mr. Bankman-Fried refrained from commenting on his present whereabouts out of worry for his safety. Requests for response from the legal representatives of FTX and Mr. Bankman-Fried went unanswered.

As his interviewees listen intently to his incredible story of how he became a multibillionaire in five years, the sound is persistent and clearly coming from the American entrepreneur's mouse.

"Click, click, click," it goes, in rapid, on-off bursts.

Meanwhile, Mr Bankman-Fried's eyes dart around the screen.

It's not clear from the videos what he's doing on his computer, but his tweets can give us a pretty good clue.

"I'm (in)famous for playing League of Legends while on phone calls," he tweeted in February 2021.

Mr Bankman-Fried - the former boss of embattled cryptocurrency exchange FTX - is an avid gamer. And in a series of tweets to his nearly one million followers, he explained why. Playing the team fantasy battle game was his way to get his mind to switch off from running two companies trading billions of dollars a day.

"Some people drink too much; some gamble. I play League," he said

Sam Bankman-Fried also enjoyed playing a video game called Storybook Brawl so much he bought its maker in March 2022

Since the 30-year-old's cryptocurrency empire collapsed in dramatic fashion, another anecdote about his gaming has resurfaced online.

According to a blog post from venture capital giant Sequoia Capital, Mr Bankman-Fried played an intense League of Legends battle during a high-level video call with their investment team.

It didn't seem to put them off at all, though. The group proceeded to invest $210m in Mr Bankman-Fried's company FTX.

Sequoia Capital has since deleted that gushing blog post and announced it is now writing off their FTX investment as a loss.

The firm is not the only investor to have lost eye-watering amounts of money since Mr Bankman-Fried's $32bn empire collapsed.

FTX had an estimated 1.2 million registered users who were using the exchange to buy cryptocurrency tokens such as Bitcoin and thousands of others.

From large traders to everyday crypto fans, many are left wondering if they will ever get back their savings trapped in FTX's digital wallets.

Crypto giant FTX collapses into bankruptcy

'I'm waiting to get £2,000 back from crypto giant'

It's a dizzying downfall and the rise of Mr Bankman-Fried is also its own dramatic story of risks, rewards and beanbags.

Mr Bankman-Fried went to Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) - a prestigious US research university where he studied physics and maths.

But the young bright undergraduate says it was lessons learned in the student dorms that led him on his path to getting rich.

In a BBC radio interview, he recalled being swept up in the "effective altruism" movement. Effective altruism is a community of people "trying to figure out what practical things you can do with your life to have as much positive impact as you can on the world", he said.

So, as Mr Bankman-Fried recalls, he decided to get into banking to make as much money as he could to give it back to good causes.

He learned to trade stocks during a short stint at trading firm Jane Street in New York before he got bored and decided to experiment with Bitcoin.

He noticed the variations in the value of Bitcoin across different cryptocurrency exchanges and started arbitraging - buying Bitcoin from places selling it cheaply and selling to other places where it was trading for more.

Media caption,

Are crypto-currencies the future of money?

After a month of making modest profits, he got together with some college friends and started a trading business called Alameda Research.

Mr Bankman-Fried says it wasn't easy and took months of perfecting techniques about how to move money in and out of banks and across borders. But after around three months, he and his small team hit the jackpot.

"We were super-dogged," he said to the Jax Jones and Martin Warner Show podcast a year ago. "We just kept going. If someone throws another roadblock, we would be creative, and if our system couldn't handle that, we would just build a new system to get us through that hoop."

By January 2018, his team were making $1m every day.

A business reporter at CNBC asked him recently how that felt.

Intellectually and according to his methodology, he said, "it made perfect" sense. "But viscerally, it surprised me every day," he said. Sam Bankman-Fried became an official billionaire in 2021, thanks to his secondary and more high-profile business, FTX. The crypto exchange grew to be the second largest in the world and a titan of the industry, seeing $10-$15bn traded a day.

"Mostly I sleep on a beanbag," Mr Bankman-Fried told his Twitter followers

In early 2022, FTX was valued at $32bn and a household name, with an NBA stadium named after the company and endorsements from celebrity backers such as the NFL's Tom Brady.

All the while, Mr Bankman-Fried seemingly delighted in giving his Twitter followers an insight into his lifestyle. He mainly sleeps on a beanbag next to his desk in the office, he said, with a picture of him lying next to his staff at their trading terminals.

In another, he posted in the early hours of the morning. "Couldn't sleep. Back to the office," he wrote.

Mr Bankman-Fried's dream of giving away vast amounts of money to charity was also well under way. In the BBC radio interview last month, he claimed he had given away "a few hundred million as of now".

With the price of cryptocurrencies falling in 2022, the so-called "Crypto Winter" is in full swing. While other companies in the industry faltered, Mr Bankman-Fried was handing out bailout cash in the hundreds of millions.

Asked why he was trying to prop up failing crypto firms, he told CNBC: "It's not going to be good long-term if we have real pain and real blow outs. And it's not fair to customers."

He also claimed, in the same interview, to have $2bn in reserve that he could use to help failing crypto companies.

But soon afterwards, he was going around the same industry himself, trying to raise money to save his own company and customers.

Further accusations that Alameda Research used FTX's customer deposits as loans for trading were made in the Wall Street Journal.

The beginning of the end came though when FTX's main competitor - Binance - publicly sold off all its crypto tokens linked to FTX a few days later.

Binance chief executive Changpeng Zhao told his 7.5 million followers his company would be selling off the holdings "in light of recent revelations".

"Hopefully things can find a way to recover. Hopefully this can bring some amount of transparency, trust and governance to them."

He also said he "was shocked to see things unravel the way they did".

And yet he remained optimistic. Just days before his arrest, Mr Bankman-Fried told me he hoped to start a new business to make enough money to pay back victims of the FTX collapse.

#cryptosignals #universalcryptosignals

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alyjojo · 2 years

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Family Ties 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 - May 2022 - Aquarius

Overall energy: Ace of Swords

You’re focused on gaining truth & clarity when it comes to your family situation, you’re one to communicate your thoughts and feelings in a more mental way, being an air sign, and you tend to cut right though the bullshit, straight to the heart of the matter. This could be showing you’ve cut off much of your family for some reason or another, not necessarily all of them, but certainly that you’re not afraid to. Swords are prevalent throughout your family, your mother shows up as the Queen, who is known to carry around that same sword, cutting off connections left and right. Your grandparents show up as Justice, also the same sword in their hands. There could be a lot of Libra placements in your family, or just air signs in general, Gemini is here too.

Mother: Queen of Swords & 3 Cups

You could make it a regular thing to cut off your mother and reunite with her again, or she does this to you, it’s a toxic cycle you two are in for some reason. You recognize this, so it may be them with the issue. When you get along, you get along very well, there are spurts of healing each time you reunite, which doesn’t seem like it’s a frequent thing because there’s an air of dissatisfaction between you that Spirit doesn’t really add to, it just exists. You’re communicating with her now though, rushing in to talk about some new beginning, a new career opportunity, possibly involving travel. It’s definitely career related, and you’ve made up your mind. Maybe she’s dissatisfied you’ll be gone so much. There’s definitely an air of space or distance between you both, though you mostly get along. In phases.

Father: 10 Swords & Page of Wands

Your father has been found out on some kind of passionate messages that he’s sent to a new love interest of some kind...unfortunately, this story is becoming the norm in these readings, and I’m sorry. It’s known, it’s not secret. You seem to not really speak to him much at all, if at all, you’re walled off and defensive, you hold a serious grudge against him and his “options”, you’re really pissed off. Intensely pissed off, he was involved in a 3rd party with a Queen of Pentacles, could be a Capricorn. After having done this, I don’t think you’ve spoken to him since, or very little. You make yourself quite clear with this Ace of Swords though, so something has definitely been said at some point, or he’s another one on your cut off list. Could be a Sagittarius or have these placements somewhere.

Siblings: 8 Coins & 4 Cups

4 Cups shows up twice, both here and in the clarifiers. You both want to work on your relationship and you’re both dissatisfied, neither one of you wants to repeat this same toxic cycle of conflict. I keep feeling “both”, so I’m guessing there’s one sibling here. This can be in regards to your parents and them fighting each other, this can also represent a Lover of one of yours (or one of theirs) that’s involved in the mix. You’re both tired of it, you don’t want to repeat it, and you’ve both said this clearly, either to each other or your parents. You’re dissatisfied with King of Wands, he’s shown up as your father, there needs to be a serious Death and transformation in this situation, and you’re all in agreement on that. Or you’re not speaking to him. Your sibling seems very logical, and so are you.

Grandparents: Justice & 9 Cups

They are living their best life and enjoying every minute of it, what seems to be far away from the family dynamic. They’re not involved, which they feel is the right decision to make, and they may live some distance away. Far enough to not take part in any family dynamics, they seem very much out for themselves, unfortunately. They feel there’s nothing they can do and they’re moving on and leaving the situation behind...mostly to avoid being asked for any money. They’d rather be Hermits. The only thing they’re giving to anyone in the family is distance, and that includes whichever one of your parents is theirs. They’re not mad about this 3rd party situation, or this Queen of Pentacles, they’re not upset at all. I get the feeling these are Dad’s parents, and they’re very much disengaged. Possibly not surprised.

Spiritual Ancestors: 2 Swords, The Magician, Wheel of Fortune

You’re indecisive over what you can even manifest for yourself, what you can create, you could feel fate is against you, or you’re never lucky so why bother? This situation has really knocked the wind out of your sails in terms of how you see your family, your beliefs in what a family can be, your definition of loving people or how strong blood really is...or isn’t. There is advice here that’s more like a confession to your mother on how difficult this all is for you, or maybe she is the one letting it all out. There needs to be communication and bonding over this very difficult situation. There’s also The High Priestess as a note from Spirit, a hint in someone’s case. Whoever your mother ends up with is her soulmate, her true counterpart, and he will help to heal this toxic cycle of bs by loving her correctly and committing to her deeply. True soulmate. Have faith Aquarius 💜

#aquarius tarot reading #family ties #aquarius #tarot #may 2022 #generational healing #family

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aro-is-gay-af · 3 years

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The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader | Part 3

I reckon, that if you’re reading Part 3, then you know two previous ones. In case you didn’t read them yet: Part 1 | Part 2

Thank you for all warm words and praise! It means world to me.

I also love this series, folks! I need to admit, I did get addicted to it a little, so I thought it’d be great to set updates schedule. It won’t be precise, but you can expect another part roughly in two weeks time from now.

As per usual, sorry for any confusion and grammatical mistakes.

Warnings: Rape (mentioned), Depression, PTSD, Forced Pregnancy, Blood

Word count: 6200

No summary this time. Also, this one has very sweet parts in it!!!

ENJOY!

The next day, you had your appointment with the doctor. A doctor was apparently a woman and you were sure the kings were paying her something extra for the visit to be immediate. Unfortunately, she didn’t know any English, as she was a local gynaecologist. Your mates didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable in any way, so before the visit, Aro asked you, who you’d like to be the translator for you.

The ideal situation would be a woman, but you didn’t trust anyone in the castle, except the kings. For this reason, your first shot was Aro, as he had already seen your memories. There was nothing that would shock him, you also didn’t need to hide anything from him and you knew, he was the best at dealing with others. You figured it’d be an ideal solution and you had to admit to yourself that you simply wanted him to accompany you.

The whole visit took place in your room, which meant a lot of carrying the necessary equipment, but more mental comfort for you. In those two days, you managed to get quite settled in and didn't want to leave the castle. You felt safe and secured in your suite. Kings seemed to notice that, as it was Marcus, who proposed, it would be a great idea to have an appointment without the need of leaving your room.

While you both were waiting for the doctor to come, it was the first time you had seen Aro with brown eyes. He looked really out of place. You shared this thought with him, by saying you prefer when his eyes are normal. That’s what it took. Two days, to consider red eyes normal. As usual, he was polite and revealed to you that he also hated the colour, let alone the lenses.

When the doctor finally arrived, you were already a nervous wreck. Aro tried to distract you, asking questions mainly about your house in Forks and whether you had already spoken to Bella about family heirlooms. He succeeded for a while, but it couldn't last forever, could it?

The lady was extremely kind and gentle. The truth was, it was hard to hide how stressed you were about this visit. You didn't want anyone to touch you, not when you weren't ready, and this time you definitely weren't. Despite the doctor's initial efforts, you were unable to shake her hand in greeting. She only smiled sadly, as if understanding perfectly what you were going through. Aro assured you beforehand, for he had not told her anything and only if you wanted to, you should share your trauma with her.

The doctor, seeing your nervousness, decided that you should talk first. While she asked you questions, you noticed that she chose her words carefully and only then did you realise that she was also stressed, but in her case it was probably Aro's presence that made her uncomfortable. Although Aro tried not to impose his presence on her, you understood why it might overwhelm the doctor. You felt confident being in the same room with Aro, while she probably sensed danger, even if she could not rationally explain it to herself. You promised yourself that you would try to learn at least the basics of Italian before the next visit.

She needed to ask you about exactly everything since, unfortunately, you didn't have any medical records with you - neither from the obduction, nor from the subsequent visit to the doctor, where you confirmed the pregnancy. You made a mental note to tell Bella about it, so she could send your documents, along with the things she was supposed to take from your house.

Aro was great in his translator role. Of course, you were still looking at the doctor, while answering the questions, but Aro’s voice, at least, soothed your shattered nerves just a little bit. When the questions started to get more complicated or more intimate, Aro used such words as to not make you feel uncomfortable, while still conveying the meaning. The more difficult part started, when you had to describe the situation from the hospital and how long it took for the bleeding to stop. Every word seemed linked to a particular image or smell from that night, until finally, you were unable to say anything at all.

The doctor was very understanding, probably having already guessed what exactly was your weird behaviour all about. You didn't say anything directly, you only described the situation from the hospital and then told her the details of this strange bleeding after the rape. Mainly because the doctor was very concerned about it. She explained to you that it was definitely not normal, even if you had wounds inside.

The worst part, however, was the examination. You didn't even want to think about whether you would have to undress, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The doctor had a great intuition, even if she herself was under a bit of stress. You told her that, indeed, you had been to the check-up before and that was how you found out you were pregnant. And that the doctor then checked if all the wounds had healed. The lady didn’t discuss the issue, for which you were very grateful.

After the interview, the doctor told you to lie down on the bed and only pull your blouse up, high enough for your belly to be visible. You didn't feel comfortable with this, but you preferred this way to undressing from the waist down. This was the first time you didn't feel comfortable lying on that bed. You knew that once the visit was over, everything would return to normal, but it wasn’t meant to become a memory you would return to with pleasure.

As it turned out, your first trimester was long over. The pregnancy was about 14 weeks old and that would explain the slight curving of your belly. Before the appointment, you were not sure if you would even look at the monitor to see the baby, but you did. You could not deny yourself this. The room fell silent and you could not tell what you were feeling.

The doctor pulled out some kind of a strange device and after a moment, you could hear the baby's heart. You glanced in the direction of Aro, who was obviously alarmed by your face. You grimaced, too overwhelmed to say anything to him. Up until this point, you were sure that the decision, if you should terminate the pregnancy or not, would be fairly easy. Now, you were certain that nothing in your life could be simple enough.

Over the next few weeks, your day usually looked the same or similar, yet you managed to do something completely different every day. You were glad you had so much to do, because you didn't have time to think about what had happened. You didn't want to analyse it over and over again. The kings respected your choice - unless you yourself mentioned the traumatic events, not a single insinuation or implication about it fell from their lips.

Your days were filled with various activities. Every day you spent at least some time with each king in private - you knew you needed this to create and strengthen your bond. To keep you from being inundated with information, you learned something new from each of them about vampires and their lifestyle. After all, it was supposed to become your lifestyle in the nearest future. You discovered that thinking about your transformation caused you far less anxiety, than any memory associated with rape. Even after you learned that it more or less consisted of burning alive for a few days.

During your time with the kings, you tried not to show the insecurity you had acquired about your body, and yet, you were sure they knew anyway. However, the time spent with them was what you treasured most. With each of them you did something different, as you wanted to know what they like to do in their free time. Marcus, as he had promised on the first day, taught you Italian for two hours every day. It was not easy, but after a few weeks of intensive course and communicating in broken Italian, not only with Marcus, but also with the other two, you were able to maintain basic conversation.

Marcus was a great teacher, but that wasn’t the only reason why you loved spending time with him. He was the one who had the most time for you - he wasn't as busy as Aro or Caius, and besides, he had countless amounts of patience. He wasn't tired of your constant questions, not only about vampirism, but also about his past. You would often sit for hours in the library or in the gardens, which, by the way, were breathtaking. You both loved books and your only regret was that you weren't able to read most of their vast collection. Marcus assured you, you would have all eternity to do so. You could talk with him endlessly, as these conversations were truly effortless – even the most difficult topics seemed simple and uncomplicated.

You were surprised to learn about a gift of his. Your human mind was unable to comprehend it in the full sense of the word. Mostly because of this, he was the one to explain to you, what your bond even was and how exactly it worked. You have learned that after your transformation, you will feel the bond even more strongly. It is not often that one person has as many as three matches and is able to feel the bond while being human. Marcus explained to you that for now, both your mind and body are only subconsciously sensing the presence of the mates, as it’s impossible for human senses to do anything else.

It was so remarkable to you that you discussed it for hours. You also learned that the bond can be broken, as it is not forced in any way. However, this would be emotionally painful and very few vampires would choose to take such a desperate step.

One afternoon you were spending time in the garden again. You loved being outdoors, but for your own safety you did not go outside the castle grounds. Together, you decided that it would be safer to do only after your transformation. Besides, you didn't want to go anywhere. You were safe under the watchful eye of your mates and Renata, who, apart from the time spent with the kings and in your room, followed you in a constant manner.

The gardens were gorgeous and you wondered, who was taking care of all those magnificent flowers. You were strongly convinced that this was exactly what Eden might have looked like. You and Marcus had your favourite bench. You spent a lot of time outside, especially on sunny days. When you first found out why sitting in the sun might be a problem, you couldn't take your eyes off Marcus. He shimmered brilliantly, but your eyesight couldn't stand it for too long, because of the blinding effect. The gardens, however, were fenced off and inaccessible to the common passer-by, so you were safe to stay, as long as you wanted to.

“I asked Aro recently, if vampires can be killed in some way,” you began cautiously, not wanting to scare him away from this conversation. No one had talked to you about it, however, it still crossed your mind what state Marcus was in when you first saw him. You were willing to swear you looked exactly the same after your mother died. Now, knowing what all the mating bond was about, you were convinced that Marcus had lost someone dear to his heart.

As per usual, he smiled gently at you.

“I'm sure his answer was sufficient, my dear. What are you aiming at?” he asked, looking at you obliquely.

You took his hand in yours. With Marcus, physical contact was as easy as a conversation. He, however, never initiated any touch. He waited for you, just like he was waiting now, to reach for his hand or gently grasp his arm. The only movement he allowed himself was to stroke your hair every now and then, but only when he was absolutely sure you were willing.

“I wanted to ask what happens to the bond, when the vampire…is no longer here,” you said bluntly, not taking your eyes off him. Your understanding was unique. Marcus was gentle in manner, patient and extremely caring towards you. In no way did you want to ruin, what you had built over those few weeks.

His smile turned into one of the saddest you've seen on his face. By the time he answered, you regretted asking at all. You didn't want to cause him pain. You squeezed his fingers in your palm.

“Until you came to Volterra, I was sure that a vampire could only experience this special, unique bond once in a lifetime. I did experience it, yet this story does not have a happy ending,” he said, with utmost sadness in his voice.

Your heart ached, as you watched his suffering and grief. You had asked the question unnecessarily, but now there was no turning back. You continued to stroke his fingers, holding his hand securely in yours.

“When one of the vampires connected by mating bond dies, it does not mean that the bond disappears. It exists, but only on one side. It cannot be cherished, it cannot be repaired in any way. It isn’t reciprocated. What remains are the memories, and they are the only reminder of what the bond really meant, when it existed,” he explained in a distressed voice, slowly and carefully.

Holding his hand, you laid your head on his shoulder and sighed heavily.

“I'm so sorry this happened to you,” you whispered after a moment, feeling tears stinging under your eyelids. Even now, you couldn't imagine losing any of them and you couldn't possibly envision the amount of pain Marcus had gone through.

He embraced you carefully and gently hugged you to his side.

"Don't fret over it, cara. I've made my peace with it. However, that doesn't mean I've forgotten. I still miss her, after all these years," he said with longing in his voice, stroking your shoulder gently.

After a long moment of silence, you were in a genuinely poor condition. Tears dripped down your cheeks and your breathing quickened. Not only because of the pain Marcus must have gone through, but also because of your own yearning. You had come to terms with the death of your parents, but you missed them so much. You wanted to have them at least a little longer. Now, standing on the verge of immortality, you wished you had spent more time with them.

Marcus placed a kiss on your hair.

“Sob it out, dear. Nothing helps the soul more than honest tears,” he whispered, and you were ashamed, because you should be the one providing comfort for him. However, the memories were too fresh and you couldn't hold it back.

Once you had calmed down a bit, he handed you a handkerchief to wipe away your tears.

“I wish I could change my memories. Even if it was only for a brief moment to be able to forget that I will never see them again. To be able to forget what this…this monster did to me,” you whispered, snuggling tighter into his shoulder.

You heard his sigh and his embrace around your shoulder tightened.

“You have been terribly abused, cara. No one deserves such a fate. The most important thing now, is to get on with life. Our loved ones would not want us to dwell on their deaths,” he said, as wise and thoughtful, as ever. The hatred towards your abuser was palpable in Marcus’s voice.

“You are so good to me. I don't deserve this,” you whispered after a while, your voice swollen with emotion. He only smiled indulgently.

“You deserve the very best, dear. I've already lost one mate. I won't let anyone hurt you.”

“I’m sure she would be proud of you,” you said with compassion, after another moment of silence.

“I’m not quite certain about that,” he said, placing another kiss on the top of your head.

But you were sure. You were also sure, you would do anything to prevent Marcus from experiencing something like this again. You knew all too well the taste of grief.

You truly had little time to think about the rape and pregnancy at all. If you weren’t with Marcus, it was Caius who loved to kidnap you, so he could spent some private time with you. Caius was the complete opposite of Marcus – absolute chaos, you could say. You had no idea how the brothers even got along. You had already noticed that Marcus rarely spoke, while Caius was rather impulsive and liked to discuss things in detail. However, until you started spending time alone, you had no idea what he was really passionate about.

It turned out that his greatest passion was art. He would show you countless paintings he himself had painted throughout the centuries. He could talk for hours about types of paint and how to mix colours properly. Although you were not very good at painting, you tried to learn a little with Caius’ help. When he was alone with you, he was still abrupt and impulsive, but in a charming way. He never imposed himself on you and you discovered that annoying him was really great fun. So banter and frequent teasing were the order of the day.

You often spent afternoons and evenings with Caius. He taught you how to paint, but not only. Art history was his passion and you loved to listen to him tell stories. His voice was mesmerising and hypnotic. He also eagerly answered all your questions about vampire race. You listened about the horrible children of the moon and how Caius singlehandedly had almost slaughtered them all. He warned you that after the transformation you would be violent and impulsive, that you would have nothing on your mind but to satisfy your thirst. This frightened you slightly, but at times when things got weird or dangerous, Caius assured you that you would always have full support of your mates. You never doubted that. You knew they would help you to grow accustomed to your new life.

Caius loved every variety of art you could name. When he asked you for permission to sculpt you, you were so surprised that you made a strange sound. He said that, of course, he wasn't going to overstep your boundaries and you yourself would choose some beautiful casual attire, so he could portray your beauty in sculpture. All you had to do was dress once as he asked and stand in the right pose. He remembered every detail of your posture, including your facial expressions. Often, he would sculpt you, while you would talk about insignificant things also learning how to sculpt...well, things that didn't resemble anything. Yet, you wanted to be as good as he was.

You were in your nineteenth week, when he invited you for a long painting session. His studio was huge and consisted of nothing but breathtaking works of art. You were decorating some random sculpture that you had never seen before. Caius also loved contemporary art, so you could go wild. Taking classes with him was better, than any therapy. You could smear paint on everything - the canvas, the sculptures, yourself, and even him, because he was usually in a good mood and you could enjoy it. He never showed you even a trace of anger, and you, fooling around with him like that, were genuinely pleased and happy.

When you finished, the room looked rather bad, not to mention the clothes or your hair. Caius would never have appeared that way to the guards, let alone on trial, but with you it was different.

“I wanted to show you something,” he said, wiping the paint off your cheek.

You took his hand. Caius, like Marcus, did not invade your personal zone, unless you specifically gave permission. However, carnality and touch were important to him, and so, once you were more comfortable in his presence, he liked to show you affection by stroking your cheek or your back, and intertwining his fingers with yours, when you held hands. You didn't mind his cold skin – by now you were accustomed to it, as three of them had similar body temperature. You were the hottest here. Literally.

You walked slowly to another room.

“I didn't tell you, but I finished craving” he said, and you could hear the excitement in his voice. You smiled at him. That was the main reason why you had agreed to have yourself sculpted in the first place. You wanted to get close to him on a level, which was inaccessible to do in any other way.

“Before you show me, will you tell me as to where you even got the idea of carving me?” you asked, amused. Caius was much taller than you, you had to slightly lift your head to look him straight in the eye.

At first, he smiled archly, but immediately his smile softened. He pulled at the material that covered the sculpture, so that it fell to the floor. You were simply speechless. The woman, who stood opposite to you was over four metres tall. The sculpture was made of marble and the woman looked, as if she was an actual person. There was something elusive about her. Her face, thoughtful yet serene, her hair flowing freely over her shoulders onto her back. She was clad in a fine fabric that flowed in waves down to her bare feet. She looked nothing like you and yet, you two looked exactly alike.

You had no idea that you started crying. The woman was beautiful. You could feel the power and dignity emanating from her, and on the other hand, she seemed to you as if... fragile and ephemeral. Caius had captured in this sculpture all the feelings you had been feeling, without even knowing it.

You felt his hand on your cheek, his fingers gently wiping away your tears along with some paint, which remained on your face.

“I thought I would like you to see yourself through my eyes. Exactly as I see you – without a single flaw, yet with all your imperfections. I don't want you to be unable to look at yourself, because of what this animal did to you. I don't see it. I only see you, [Y/N]. The real you. Beautiful and fragile, yet powerful, without inhibitions or scruples. Capable of anything.”

The words were trapped in your throat. You wanted to say something, but you were sure, that as soon as you were going to open your mouth, uncontrollable sob would come out. You looked first at Caius, then at the woman carved in marble, then back at Caius. He only smiled gently.

“Who we are – we decide that ourselves. No one else does. To me, you are beautiful. Pure. Never think otherwise, dolcezza.”

Without warning, you hugged him so hard, that it hurt. You forgot that his skin was different from yours. He embraced you without hesitation, even though you were all covered in paint. You wept, cuddling into his chest, as he soothingly stroked your hair and back.

Once you had slightly calmed down, you looked up at him. His blond hair looked like a halo over his head. He amazed you in every sense of the word.

“Thank you. Thank you for letting me see this,” you whispered poignantly, and then went straight back to hugging him.

“There's nothing to thank you for, my lovely [Y/N]. I would like you to accept yourself as you are. Because you are truly magnificent.”

The only person you talked straightforward about pregnancy was Aro. Was it because of his gift? Most likely, and you simply felt you could trust him. From the moment you first found yourself in his arms, the bond between you two only strengthened. Also, a memorable visit from the doctor was also significant, and then, together with him, you went through the documents that Bella had sent you. To say he was furious, was an understatement. Yes, Aro saw your memories, but the reports were written from a third-person perspective. And the other evening was really awful – you couldn't stop crying because you couldn't block out the flow of memories.

You were close with each other; close enough for you to try to overcome your insecurities, to talk about how you really felt about this whole situation you found yourself in. It was far from easy, but Aro was a really patient specimen. In the course of these talks, you discussed practically everything. You knew that every scenario had to be worked out and discussed, because there were many different options of the outcome.

Despite many conversations, you were still unsure about keeping the baby. You didn't know if you wanted to, if you would be able to raise it and then tell it that it would forcibly have to become a vampire. After the doctor's appointment, things did not get any easier for you. You heard the heart and knew that the child was not to blame for its father’s actions. You were raped, but this child had nothing to do with it.

So you waited. You waited for a miracle to decide for you or for the baby to move when you were thinking of having it removed. It’d be a sign not to do it. However, nothing of the sort was happening and fate was not deciding for you. Aro convinced you that, even if you decided to have an abortion, there was nothing wrong about it. No one would blame you for it. The only person to blame here, was the monster who raped you.

You hadn't decided what you would do about the pregnancy, but you and Aro knew what would happen, if something went wrong. For your mates, it was your health and life that came first. Aro assured you of that a thousand times over. Because of this, if anything went wrong with the birth or if there were any complications, you were to be changed immediately. Also because of this, Aro talked to you about all aspects of your transformation. He was the one who introduced you to what transformation actually looks like. He didn't scare you with the pain you were about to go through, but only gave you the facts. Facts that you needed to know.

When you weren't talking about such serious matters, Aro also loved to spend time talking to you, but about different topics. He seemed to know all your thoughts, but you were still able to surprise him. He explained to you, that the human mind was more disordered and chaotic, than vampire one and that he certainly didn't see everything. Your brain chose the memories, often associated with strong feelings and emotions, which were meant to be remembered. You were joyful about this, because you could talk endlessly and he kept finding out something new about you. And you kept finding something new about him. You knew from the first moment that he was extraordinary, and the more you talked, the more you became certain about it.

Besides, Aro adored dancing. You were not convinced about this form of activity, but it was the intimacy of this act that convinced you. In his arms, no one was able to hurt you. You felt safe and, after many attempts, quite confident in your movements. He literally beamed, being able to teach you to dance and to be so close to you. You found nothing in his eyes but the infinite adoration he had for you. When you found out the reason behind this, your heart almost broke with sorrow and compassion.

“I must confess something to you, cara mia,” he whispered, holding you securely in his arms. It was evening, you had long since been prepared for sleep. He found your long nightgown to his liking, when he came to check how you were doing and if you needed anything. You rested your head on his shoulder. There was no music, he was the one giving the rhythm to your movements, yet it was the most wonderful dance you had yet had the chance to dance with him.

“Do tell, please,” you said, trying not to lose the rhythm. You were tired, as throughout the day you sorted through the things Bella sent you from Forks. In addition, you worked with Marcus to sell your house, because you were, after all, a little concerned about what hands your family home would pass into.

“I have been bound over the centuries to both men and women. My ex-wife, Sulpicia, whom you know and, to the best of my knowledge, whom I permitted to leave, was my faithful companion, basically from the beginning of my immortality. However, until now, I did not know what it meant to have a true mate.”

He tilted you gently, wishing to look into your eyes. You continued to sway to a non-existent rhythm, completely oblivious to your surroundings. You furrowed your brows.

“Are you serious?” you asked in a whisper, not wanting to ruin the moment. The light emanating from the candles, illuminated half of his face. He smiled, and you were unable to take your eyes off his red irises.

“Yes, my dear. I have waited over three thousand years for you. I must tell you, that I could wait another three millennia, only to see your beautiful face,” he said affectionately, holding you tighter against him to stroke your flushed cheek with his fingers.

Your eyes welled up with tears and he slowly bent down and kissed your forehead.

“That's enough for today, cara mia. You must rest well. Caius has something planned for tomorrow, but he didn't want to reveal what, under any circumstances,” he said amused, giggling under his breath. You loved when Aro was in a good mood, because then you were in a good mood too. Before he walked you to bed, he wiped away your tear. You squeezed his hand in yours, then climbed onto the bed. He covered you carefully with a duvet and stroked your hair.

“I'm glad I came here,” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “I never want to leave you,” you said with force. He smiled softly at you and stroked your hair once more.

“We will always be by your side, [Y/N]. Good night, cara.”

His voice so soft and tuneful that as soon as he snuffed out the candles, you drifted off to sleep in an instant.

Apart from the fact that almost everything was going great and your mental state was in constant improvement, your relationship with Bella had severely worsened. In the beginning you talked every evening. She still couldn't understand why you were selling the house and why you wouldn't, at least, want to visit Forks. After a while, you got fed up with explaining it to her. There were an awful lot of things she wasn't happy about and she didn't hide it. She kept criticising the Volturi without knowing them and having no idea, what they were actually doing.

You loved her like a sister, but because of that, she could annoy you exactly like one. Because of her pinching remarks and your lack of patience, you called each other less and less. You didn't want to keep getting annoyed and you were tired of explaining things to her. Besides, you didn't like that she didn't say a single good word about your mates. You at least tried to accept Edward. Suddenly, what he did to her was all forgotten and you couldn't understand it. You didn't know, what was happening to your sister and your stay in Italy didn’t exactly make things better. You still hoped that once you saw each other after the transformation, you would be able to explain it all to one another. You didn't want to lose Bella, the last person you considered family.

So you talked less and less or not at all, and when you did, you avoided difficult and sensitive topics. It was not like with Bella at all and it made you anxious. You were at ease with each other, almost always, and you didn’t get why she was so bitter and hateful towards your knew, chosen life. Especially, because partially your presence right then, in the trial chamber, was the reason for her to be alive at all.

Shortly after Caius presented you with your sculpted self, you were to spend the whole day together, the four of you. These were the days you loved the most. Although you cherished the time spent with each of your mates separately, the presence of all three put you in an ecstatic mood. You usually spent your afternoons like this – there were still a lot of things to do and solve, and a lot of trials to carry out.

Being in Volterra for so long, you learned a lot about the existing laws and how to enforce them. You knew that kings were not flawless, but it was logical to you that keeping the entire vampire world in line, required some sacrifices. Some greater than the other ones.

You usually sat down in the study, where you had ended the very first day, at a round table. You listened to the discussions and arguments, but also just spent time with your mates. You often sat on Aro's lap or tried to calm Caius down, when he became too agitated.

You were extremely excited since the morning, because they promised you a whole day outside. It wasn't often that all three of them wanted to spend time with you in the gardens, so you couldn't restrain your exhilaration. However, there were also days, or rather moments, when, under any circumstances, you could not leave your room. Such a moment was to occur today, after breakfast. You slept for a long time, almost until eleven o'clock. When you ate your breakfast, it was Renata who informed you that it was time to eat. Of course, you knew what it was about.

The only situation, in which you could not leave your chamber, was at lunchtime. Not yours, though, but the lunchtime of all the vampires, who inhabited the castle. For your own safety, usually for about two hours, you were not to leave and to occupy yourself with whatever you wanted. The only two hours, in which Renata or anyone else was not around you. Not many people knew about your stay in the castle and because of this, the kings decided that Renata should eat with the rest of the company.

You did not consider it strange in the slightest. Of course, you tried not to think about the fact that people would die, but you knew that they were chosen at random. Which meant that they could just as well have been run over by a car or they could have died in a fire. You did not think about it. You were just enjoying your two hours of freedom. Sometimes you sunbathed on the balcony, prepared your outfit or just played on the computer. These were little things that still reminded you of being human.

This week, when Renata told you that she would be gone for a while, you were already enjoying a long soak in the bathtub. The home spa was one of the favourite things you and your mum liked to do together. You poured hot water into the tub, applied a mask that you had prepared yourself with a few ingredients and relaxed.

Since you had no idea when, you were no longer afraid to look in the mirror. Sure, your body shape was far from ideal, but at least you weren’t terrified to look. You weren’t terrified to acknowledge that, yes, your body was raped, but you were recovering from it. And that you started to think that your body didn’t cause any of this.

After some time you spent in the bathtub, you felt a little dizzy. It wasn’t exactly a good sign, so you figured it’d be wise to get out of the tub. When you rinsed yourself off with clean water, you stood up, and that was the moment of terror. The room immediately started spinning, like you were on roundabout for the last forty minutes. You felt nauseous, but there was nothing near you to which you could cling to. You managed to step out of the tub, on the marble step, and then you felt it. Pain, excruciating pain, suffocation. Streams of blood went down your legs and before you fell onto the ground, you could only see white marble floor all covered in sanguineous blood.

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yanxidarlings · 2 years

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Hello, I wanted to know if you could write some headcannons for Ukraine and Hungary please?

( i only do one character for general headcanons at a time, but don't worry, because i already have an ask for hungary, so i'll write for ukraine now. i was going to do something for valentines day, but i don't have any specific france, or romance nation requests, so i'll probably just reblog a couple romance nations yandere posts instead 😁, but happy valentines day for tomorrow!. )

𝒴𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐸𝑅𝐸 𝒰𝒦𝑅𝒜𝐼𝒩𝐸 𝒢𝐸𝒩𝐸𝑅𝒜𝐿 𝐻𝐸𝒜𝒟𝒞𝒜𝒩𝒪𝒩𝒮

TYPE OF YANDERE?

• irina is by far one of the most clingy and overprotective yandere's there is. she's had a hard life, and holds tightly onto those she loves even when she isn't yandere, so this is taken to the extreme when sue becomes obsessed with her darling. she'll never leave her darling alone because of this constant nagging in the back of her head, telling her that something bad will happen to her darling if she's not there.

• this overprotectiveness translates into a controlling side of her. of course she's not nearly as bad as germany. for example, the way she controls her darling is reminiscent of a helicopter parent, as I've mentioned previously, her darling won't make any decisions for themselves once in her care.

• irina is a diverse yandere, we cannot forget the fact that she pretty much raised both russia and belarus. she can become just as possessive as them if she's pushed there. irina can threaten and scare off potential suitors approaching her darling if she wishes, bit she prefers to cry to her darling, guilt tripping them into dropping the person that has made her jealous. she could be considered manipulative, but most of the time her tears are genuine.

HOW DID THEY BECOME OBSESSED?

• irina is surprisingly harder to entrance then you'd expect, but also quite easy. she's not one to become obsessed without properly knowing her darling like america or denmark. she'll only become a yandere after several years of knowing her darling normally. which is what makes her one of the more successful yandere's.

• her darling could already be in a relationship with her, she could have helped raise them as a child, they could be a longtime ally or friend. maybe they do something to help her out, and thoughts of them plague her mind until she's in too deep to go out, or maybe oneday she just looks at them and realises she has to have them.

• once again, irina is another that can't fall in love at first sight, her darling can pique her interest, but she's not like spain in the sense that one look at her darling will entrance her immediately. however there is the possibility that she falls for someone she hasn't spoken too. this may seem counterproductive to the previous paragraphs, but it's still the same principle, ukraine would had to ohserved them for so long from a distance, that she becomes overly attached.

WOULD THEY STALK?

• irina's 'stalking' if you could even call it that isn't nearly as intense as belarus and russia's, and there's the issue of her breasts being so loud they blow her cover. and she can't watch her darling interact with others from a distance without becoming emotional because of jealousy, so she mostly does what clingy yandere's do, and clings to her darling wherever they go.

• this isn't to say there isn't a point where she'd try to stalk, if her darling would ask for space, she'd elect to following behind them, but since she's not the quietest, she'd be spotted pretty quickly. it's easy for her darling to brush it off as something silly she did because who could imagine sweet crybaby ukraine becoming obsessed with someone?.

• if she really needs to keep an eye on her darling, then she'll probably ask belarus to do the stalking for her, which would lead the younger sibling to grumpily suggest irina just take you away for herself already. an idea which irina detested at first. but after a while, it started to sound more and more appealing.

WOULD THEY KIDNAP?

• well, irina probably wouldn't have the courage, unless they were going to get married to someone else, were seriously injured, or were trying to distance themselves from her. she wouldn't want to take away their freedom for no good reason. but that doesn't mean she wouldn't want them all to herself.

• if she were to kidnap them, it would be on impulse, the moment they'd awaken tied to a bed, she'd be hysterical, spouting out apologies, insisting this hurts her more then it hurts her darling, that it's for their own safety. but at this point she can't tell if her tears are real or fake, and only to garner sympathy from her darling.

HOW TIGHT OF A LEASH?

• irina really hates it when her darling is bad, they were so nice before they moved in with her, why do they have to act like such a brat now?. she'll treat her darling like royalty, and i mean, exactly like royalty. they'll be given the illusion that they're superior, but in reality, it's irina that's pulling the strings.

• her darling would be coddled, everything from their clothes to their meals would be chosen by irina, it'd even develop to the point where she'd bathe them and dress them. a part of it would be her enjoying having control over her darling, but it's mostly so that her darling would become so dependent on her, they wouldn't be able to live without her the same way she can't love without them.

• she'd also have them follow a strict routine, of course, it's not nearly as intricate as china would have his darling follow, or as grueling as germany would expect of his darling, but if they're not someone who enjoys working in the fields all day, or someone who prefers spontaneity, then it's not pleasant, to say the least.

• irina's siblings would have to come over to punish her darling, as controlling as she is, the most she could ever do to her darling is scold them or send them to time out. she can't bare to watch her darling in pain, physical and emotional, so if they act sad enough, she'll let them get their way in most cases. so it's usually belarus and russia that dish out the punishments, which actually works in ukraine's favour, because they won't associate her with that pain, only comfort for it. with all that in mind, her darling is at high risk for stockholm syndrome.

HOW DO THEY STAND OUT FROM OTHERS?

• ukraine is perhaps one of the most interesting yandere's to explore when it comes to what type of yandere she is. the line between platonic and romantic with her is blurred, she can be a romantic yandere for someone, but she'll still treat them like a child, and she can be a platonic yandere for someone, but it's almost creepy how affectionate she'll act.

• this has been mentioned all over the headcanons, but despite being a tame enough yandere, her darling will still be treated harshly from time to time, just not by her, but her siblings.

#yandere hetalia #yandere ukraine #yandere hws ukraine #yandere aph ukraine #aph ukraine #hws ukraine #hetalia ukraine #yandere hetalia ukraine #yandere ukraine x reader #yandere ukraine headcanons #yandere aph headcanons #yandere hetalia headcanons #yandere aph #irina chernenko #yandere hetalia x reader #yandere hws #yandere hws headcanons #my headcanons

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult.

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better.

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face.

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions.

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery.

Wait, hold up, it gets worse.

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that.

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance. I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse

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hanazou · 3 years

Note

Hi, could I request headcanons for chuuya with a s/o who loves giving genuine compliments whenever they see him, they just can't keep it inside for example whenever they see chuuya they go like"you are so beautiful" and some cheesy shit like that😩✋🏻

𝘾𝙝𝙪𝙪𝙮𝙖 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝘼 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙗𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝘼𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧

Word Count : 1.4K

Shelf : Hardback

Genre : Fluff, romance

Note : of course u can darling. smooches xx 💗 he needs it to help with his abandonment issues anyways <3 i hope u enjoy this one ! I still need to practice for Chuuya, I'm not fluent with him as I am with Dazai and Fyodor

There are three approaches to observe how Chuuya reacts and behaves around you; his initial feelings, his first physical reflex, and how he adapts with your behaviour.

Chuuya doesn’t fare well with verbal affection before you start doing this with him. Your frequent compliments will soon stretch his heart’s capacity to be more flexible in both accepting and giving heartfelt compliments, but of course, it has to start slowly.

At first, Chuuya is definitely perplexed and transparently flustered.

If your affections with him start with something subtle, like “I like today’s cologne” or “That was manly of you” Chuuya is still able to afford to mutter a tangled “Huh, thank you” albeit not looking at you in the eyes.

But when it gets more intimate like “Your presence is always so comforting” or “I can always trust you to have my back” and cheesy things like that…

The first thing Chuuya thinks of is why the hell you’re so intent on killing him with embarrassment.

“Why did you say that out of the blue?!”

But should there be a reason? Can’t you just be affectionate with your own boyfriend?

When you say that to him, he stops working.

If your compliments are really, super, cheesy, the type that sends shivers down the bone, Chuuya’s face is a mix of confusion, bewilderment, embarrassment, and slight repulse.

Don’t be offended though, he’s simply not good at taking compliments.

Chuuya wraps his upper arms as if he’s chilly while he stares at you, shocked and dumbfounded, with a face that’s the physical manifestation of “what the f*ck?”.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

If it keeps going on and on for days, he just hisses and clicks his tongue while hiding his red face

There's going to be a stage when he doesn't know what he's supposed to feel, so he’ll resort to convincing himself that he's angry.

It’s ineffective and he becomes more turbulent than ever

All it does is make his temperament easier to poke at, and that doesn’t help with his embarrassment every time you compliment him.

Chuuya raises his voice more often, especially at you, but it doesn't last for long because of how wrong it feels whenever he tells you to shut up.

And on the contrary, the more he thinks about it, your compliments actually make him feel… good?

Yeah, good

His physical reflex is pretty transparent and hysterical. It’s really easy to see right through him and it’s not like he tries to deceive you by faking his reactions either.

After flaring his nostrils and widening his eyes, Chuuya backs off to gather himself together and to get some space--are his ears tricking him or did you actually say his shouts sound nice? Who even thinks of things like that?

He shouts things like “Stop joking around!”

But despite sounding frustrated, the way his eyes crease with embarrassment betrays his ‘anger’.

The way he bites his lips, his blue eyes bulging out, while laboriously breathing loudly, makes you want to tease him more to get more dramatic reactions.

There’s that tiny look in his eyes that pierces into you as if he’s asking you to say more.

When he's at his Angry Stage, his voice is louder than usual and sounds just as fierce and he can never strike a casual conversation, let alone look at you in the eyes.

Best he can do is stare at the top of your head.

While blurting shorter sentences “angrily”

That's the sure sign that he's just embarrassed, in case you're afraid you offend him.

When Chuuya loosens up, which happens by itself without your intervention, you can tease him more and he hides his face under his hat. He growls away from you after snarling at you to stop.

No more pretending to be angry since all it does is confuse himself more.

What if you still shout “You look cute when you’re grumpy!” when he walks away?

He literally walks up a random building to get to the roof to escape.

This is a perfect game of hide and seek.

Nothing childish or straightforward like chasing each other, but Chuuya actively avoids you whenever he can.

He finds refuge in his personal office but alas, you have a spare key.

So he goes to Mori’s office without any prior summoning and tries to strike a conversation with him there, a not-so-smooth one, but discussing future deals with importers does keep Mori’s interest.

Since Mori doesn't like being interrupted, whenever Chuuya migrates to Mori, you're barricaded from seeing him. Not for long though. Just an hour at the most.

When he sees Kouyou, he pretends as if nothing is wrong although there’s no way she fails to notice his embarrassment.

Each time you find him and give more (cheesy) compliments, Chuuyal runs away, and you’ll find him again to tease him. A full circle

If you drive Chuuya to his absolute limit, he pins you against the wall, his gloved hand shutting your mouth. Nothing suggestive, just pure embarrassment and stress boiling out of his ears.

“Will you ever stop!? What do you want?!”

Being partnered with Dazai for several years makes him think that you’re being tricky with him even after you told him you mean nothing bad

When you confess that you really are being genuine, his mouth gapes and he backs off with an obviously embarrassed “Are you kidding me?!”

Eventually, little by little, he gets used to it.

His eyes won’t widen as dramatically anymore and he doesn’t jump away in embarrassment. The grumpiness is still there but it’s cuter than it is hostile.

He responds to your “Good morning, handsome!” by muttering “Yeah, yeah, whatever,”

Chuuya actually likes the attention but he realizes this only after he’s exposed to enough of your affections to get used to them a little, letting the overwhelming embarrassment recede slowly to leave enough space in his head (It happens after he covered your mouth).

He’s not the person to be most familiar with spoken affection after living a life full of uncertainties.

Exposure therapy vibes.

It actually feels nice to have you transparently tell him that you love him. Not that he’ll admit it straightforwardly though.

He gets used to your lovey-dovey treatment for him little by little. His reaction will be the same except it’s much more controlled and less out of reflex.

He previously 'ran' away, but this time, he simply puts a small distance between you both and covers his mouth, looking away.

He previously protested loudly, now he just softly snarls, embarrassment straining his voice.

“Geez, don’t you ever run out of those cheesy words? Where did you learn all that crap?”

When his skin has grown thicker, Chuuya sees each of your compliments as an invitation to a competition on who can make each other more flustered.

He keeps your compliments and affection, recycles them, and throws them back at you.

For example, if you say that he looks dashing under the sunlight today, he’ll double the intensity of the sweetness back at you.

(That is, after thinking carefully about what to say. He's not the best natural flirt)

“Because you’re the sun shining on me, babe. I won’t shine without you glamouring first.”

If you gape with your eyes bulging out and face reddened, Chuuya smirks in triumph.

“Huh, you’re not that bulletproof yourself, babe, think about that before shooting at me,”

If you have a high tolerance for verbal sweetness like this, even for super cheesy lines, he’s determined to kick it up a notch to earn a reaction out of you.

He’s going to be a sweet talker in training.

He does all of those out of the petty reason to get back at you, but sometimes he doesn’t realize what he says until it’s too late in which he flusters himself.

If even that doesn’t work, Chuuya gets physical.

He pulls your cheeks, pinches your nose, squeezes your face, flicks your forehead (and is serious about it), or pokes on your ticklish sides.

If he finds your weak spot, there’s no mercy.

You can laugh until you’re about to faint and he won’t stop messing with you

"How does it feel to be on the receiving end, huh?" He asks so casually cocky while tackling you down.

You don’t realize it, but even though Chuuya’s self esteem isn’t the lowest, it’s not the highest either. He’s just avoiding that topic. So your compliments, no matter how silly or random, makes him feel slightly better under his own skin.

One day, Chuuya will ask how you come up with those praises so easily

If he understands how you do it, maybe he can do the same for you in the future.

📜 ; like what you read? visit my bookshop!

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beelspillowpet · 3 years

Text

A Lesson in Love - A “Character Analysis” on Asmodeus

I had to come for the tracks, wigs, and weaves of bitches when Pomade dropped because I saw people talking shit about my boy. This was a milestone “project” or “reward” I guess?

I hit 400 followers today while I was out running errands!!! Thank you guys SO SO MUCH for the love and support! I can’t WAIT to produce more content for everyone!!!

Below the cut there WILL BE talk of season 3, as well as some talk of chapter 16. There’s a healthy amount of theorizing on his personality as well, I hope you don’t mind! This came out more like a plea to get people to change their minds about how Asmo really is, rather than a comprehensive essay of sorts. So here we go!

There’s something we apparently still need to talk about in this fanbase. The unrealistic idea of Asmodeus being a sex freak, and an unreliable person in general despite there being little proof of it. We need to set a few things straight about Asmo moving forward.

December 25th rolled around and Asmo’s audio drama and song were released. I take it everyone enjoyed both parts, as well as I did. My timeline both on twitter and tumblr were filled with Asmodeus content, as well as the other brothers and such. But I mostly got Asmo content. However, in peeks and cracks, if I looked hard enough, I still saw people who absolutely loathed Asmo or who were indifferent to him. Keep in mind; I think it’s okay. You don’t have to like everyone.

I’ve only joined the fanbase in September, but even I could tell some of these takes were old fashioned. I downloaded the game on October 17th, a very important anniversary for me, while I

was still in bed in the morning. I blazed through the entire story of season 1 and now I am stuck in season 2, specifically in Chapter 24. I obviously don’t have every card of Asmodeus with his Devilgrams, but I have been analyzing his character over the past few days for this.

So needless to say, I have a considerable amount of information on him, as well as personal thoughts that may help some learn to love him. Or at the very least, from spreading a negative idea of him around as if it were true. Enough that should help clear his name, so to speak.

Let’s look at his title; Avatar of Lust. Now naturally the thoughts that come to your head are sex and other sexual bits. So I can understand how some people would come to the conclusion that he’s just a sex freak. But if you look under the surface of his title, like I’m sure you’ve had to for your own personal favorites (*cough* Lucifer, Belphie, and Satan ESPECIALLY) you would discover that Asmodeus is more than just about sex. In fact, sex takes up very little of his pass time, if you were to believe it!

In recent chapters, as I’ve been told, Asmodeus doesn’t really get around much anyways:

Granted, this was said while in Celestia, but I imagine not much has changed for him since his fall, as well as his brothers.

Not really comfortable being with just anyone, huh…? Sounds like someone who doesn’t have sex so warily often as you’d think!

Being lustful can come in many shapes and forms. It can be merely in appearance, which Asmo is not afraid of doing. He’s very comfortable about skinship and it’s very apparent in how he dresses and acts that he wants you to adore his body. To worship it! Maybe not sexually, but aesthetically! Being lustful can mean just thinking about sex or sexual scenarios often, which if you take a peek at Asmo’s chat’s either with you or his brothers, is very apparent too.

Personally, I believe that people would assume he is not good in a relationship because he would have a “cheating problem”. I don’t think Asmo is a monster, just like I don’t think any of the brothers are monsters. They may be demons (technically fallen angels) now but they used to be angels too. Their falling out with their Father doesn’t mean they’ve completely abandoned morality, it was a rebellion for Lilith’s right to live. Not for them to sin as they pleased. For all we know they might have been fine in Heaven otherwise! (with the exception of Lucifer.)

A monster knows right from wrong and chooses evil anyways. An ignorant person doesn’t know right from wrong. Asmodeus is not a monster, nor is he ignorant.

When Asmo genuinely loves you, I think he would take steps to calm down that side of him, if it were to exist. Lust is fairly limited, but it is a part of love to some extent. LOVE is vastly different. Love has many languages, and they aren’t all spoken either. For me, personally, I found that Lucifer’s love language can be either very direct, or roundabout so as to not let it go to your head, for an example. Asmo is just far more direct about his care for you.

I feel as though Asmo gets a lot of crap constantly for his presumed nature and because we don’t get to see much else of him at first, especially in season 1, his impression on us sort of stays. With most of the fanbase either somewhat new to the game or somewhere lost in the sea of the difficulty curve that is season 2, we can only assume based on what we’ve seen, and what others have headcanoned about him.

Let’s break and talk about Satan for a moment; this is going somewhere.

I’m led to believe that Satan can control his sin fairly well. He’s easy to get irritated, sure, but he isn’t as much of a walking ball of rage as I suspected. I would argue that, aside from Leviathan, Satan can handle his sin the best out of the brothers. But again, we’re forgetting about Asmo. The Avatar of “Lust”. Like I’ve shown before, he doesn’t really sleep around a lot, according to anon.

At worst, Asmo being flirty is through text and he’s not actively trying to sleep with you. It can be interpreted that way, but for me personally, it comes down to having a friend that is very up close and in your personal space.

(I myself am one of these types of people. Having ADHD, my social cues are always sort of off, and I’ve struggled with coping with it for years. With my best friend, we have seen each other naked countless times and have slept in the same bed as well. We were never romantic with each other. We were just very comfortable being close and personal with each other.)

I’d like to point out also that Asmo isn’t even there for most of season 1 too. Which can give you the idea that maybe he just was out sleeping around a lot, but to me he probably just went out partying a lot. You don’t get known that fast for sleeping around. Maybe in 5,000 years, sure, but I’d imagine being a party boy, as his Devilgram “Guided by Desire” suggests.

So the idea that Asmo isn’t in the house a lot because he’s out having sex all the time isn’t true is it? He’s probably just out partying, which can LEAD to sex with someone sure, but again, Asmo doesn’t feel comfortable doing that, now does he?

I feel like of all the boys, Asmo is the one who radiates with everyone else the most. Most people will never realize how surreal it is that Asmo is faking it until he makes it. He doesn’t always think he’s beautiful, or that he’s worth all the love he’s striving and straining to get. Something that is extremely relatable for a lot of people with self-worth issues. Asmo is just like that, but instead being sarcastic and self-deprecating, he simply works to make himself look as beautiful as possible, so that in his eyes, his beauty matches the affection he gets.

Which is why, when he falls in love with you, it’s strange. You are constantly telling him he’s nice and pretty, but you aren’t lusting after him. You’re just being nice. It may just be me, but when people are overly nice just for the sake of being nice, I’m very attracted to that. That is Asmo, to some extent. The fact that he reflects the insecurities and habits of others so clearly may make others uncomfortable, but that brutal honesty veiled behind insecurity is what a lot of people with self-image issues deal with.

Now for me to share my favorite personal idea for Asmo that completely changed how I saw him in season 1 onwards; Asmodeus is an empath. Now let me explain:

First, what is an Empath?

The term empath comes from empathy, which is the ability to understand the experiences and feelings of others outside of your own perspective. Seems simple, right? Everyone can do this to some extent. However, what makes you an empath is the fact that empaths genuinely feel the same pain as you do. So much so your experience becomes a very personal part of their own. They are capable of being able to feel other people’s emotions without them speaking, or even showing signs of it through their body language.

This would explain, for me personally, why there’s so little of him in season 1. The intensity of what goes on in the house, his sensitive soft-spoken mannerisms, the only time he truly gets mad is when he’s childishly arguing with Mammon? Asmo is afraid of true conflict, he’s afraid of violence and negative emotions. Let’s face it; everyone is indifferent or hates you at the start of the game.

While this changes fairly quickly, all the intense feelings come to a head in chapter 16. All those negative emotions swirling around, of course Asmo isn’t going to want to be in the house when it’s that intense. The attic didn’t just disappear completely, too. Belphie was still in the attic hating humans. That negative emotion could be affecting Asmo and he didn’t know why, so he could have been out of the house more.

Where Asmo can feel the emotions of others, it may mostly be the negative ones because they fill him with anxiety and panic if it persists. Which can be helpful in making him so urgent to want to make others smile and feel better, right?

Imagine being intimate with Asmodeus, and suddenly you aren’t in the mood for it anymore but don’t want to make things awkward. He could pick up on it in an instant and wouldn’t get mad because he understands how you feel completely.

Now to close this out about something that genuinely hurts me; Asmodeus is a narcissist.

I mean, the wiki says that he is, but personally? No, no he isn’t. Since when is loving yourself a bad thing? Sure he may go a bit far sometimes, but people with self-image issues need to go a little harder than the rest to make sure they're getting the love they need.

(Talking about myself AGAIN, but I do this a lot. At random, I will look up in my own mirror in front of my desk that I sit in front of all day and tell myself I am a cute bitch. I am VERY VERY cute and anyone would be lucky to have someone as drop dead gorgeous as myself. I say that a few times a day. In reality, I am very insecure about my looks. I do believe I’m cute, but sometimes it’s hard to say it. Which is why I force myself. Why wouldn’t Asmo do the same?)

Talking yourself up to be as beautiful as a sex god is no easy task, but Asmo isn’t the Avatar of “Lust” for no reason. When an insecure girl talks up her beauty, it’s her being strong and independent. When Asmo does it, its narcissism… it doesn’t really seem fair, now does it? Maybe he’s just an insecure person who needs to tell himself ALL THE TIME that he’s beautiful. That if he stares at his reflection long enough, he may see it too.

(Also, Simeon literally calls him out on being insecure. Insecure people tend to try and overcompensate where they feel they’re lacking.)

”Asmodeus is hinted to be insecure and seeking for love and attention. When Simeon was asked about what he thought of Asmodeus, he says that Asmodeus is still trying to fulfill the role of the angel he used to be; an angel that was adored and loved by many. Asmodeus laughs at Simeon's remark and brushes it off by saying that he is only jealous.” - A section from said Asmodeus Wiki.

People can choose to love or hate Asmo, obviously. Making things up about his character without having anything but speculation and having that dictate how he acts is plain silly. This entire “essay” if you can call it that, comes from the heart. I love Asmo as a character, and in the beginning he did make me uncomfortable, I didn’t like him that much. But I learned to look past that and figure out why he acts the way he does. Something didn’t sit right with me about him for a while, and it was that air of insecurity that I didn’t see at first.

All I can really ask for, is giving Asmo another chance as a character. He’s not as wild and wacky as Mammon, or as cool and sexy as Lucifer, or as edgy and precious as Belphie, but he matters in this story too. He fell from grace with his brothers for Lilith. Give him another chance, and let him show you that he is the Avatar of Love.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #om!#om! swd #om! asmo #om! asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #Thanks for 400 followers!

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cryptiql · 3 years

Text

untitled god song

pairing: bakugou/m!reader (trans reader in mind you can see it if you squint but can also be read as cis)

words: 2k

warnings: themes of religious trauma, homophobia, mentions of blood, the author projecting their mommy issues

a/n: this is purely self indulgent, don't mind me 😩✋ (written in first person)

i wish i had known him before the pain started. perhaps it is a fools dream to think that his presence would have solved anything, and it is likely that he might blown me sky high at the time, if given the chance, but i often ponder his place in my narrative. he is nothing less than a king—nay, a god—and what else am i to be except his humble servant, adoring him in the only way i've been taught?

i would bruise my knees as i kneel for him, and should he turn me away, i shall be lost and without purpose. but he does not, and instead, he snorts out a laugh and pulls me to my feet, roughly squeezing my cheeks together with a shit-eating grin. he'll tell me a joke i've heard a thousand times, and yet i laugh with him anyways, the pads of my fingers idly tapping the pulse on his wrists.

"dumbass, at least take me out to dinner first."

i never thought i'd ache to hear such a demeaning nickname, but it's like birdsong to my ears, and i long for the myriad of butterflies it provokes.

i would heed his every word like a faithful disciple, and—if i knew he would not use this power for the wrong reasons—carry it out without question. he'll roll his eyes at the notion, far too prideful at the idea of being praised, and card hands through my hair, gripping softly. "right. and if i told you to go to bed before five in the morning, would you listen?"

my smiles are genuine, as they all are with him.

"no." i wish my mother had been more open-minded; more loving to those she claimed were goners. maybe then, i could still call her my mother, and not a snarled version of her first name steeped in vinegar. maybe she could have met him, and maybe she would have keeled over in the process, but that is how we put it "killing two birds with one stone".

he was a fallen angel if ever i saw one—emblazoned in smog and ravenous inferno, the pieces of child-like innocence turning to ash. something happened to him when he was a kid, just as all gifted children, and oh, what a fool i was to let my gaze dawdle on his gorgeous form. but i will never regret it—no, not ever—for there is no such feeling that can compare to his eyes on mine, burning with a mind-fogging intensity.

it was instantaneous, the moment my thoughts turned on me with malicious intent, her voice ringing out like a gunshot.

you'll never be him.

his hand slots with mine perfectly; deliciously warm and comforting in a way i haven't felt in years; and hauls me up, the flecks of dirt and rubble from the road clinging to my jeans.

"watch it, pretty boy. i won't always be here to save you, y'know."

my heart batters against my ribs like a caged bird, screeching and wailing to be set free, and i wonder in a haze if i've died. judgement day must have come early, i think, not realizing that it was spoken aloud until the blonde quirks a brow inquisitively. he does not speak on the matter, but continues on his merry way, leaving my helpless; hopelessly enamored; and praying that we will meet again.

no, i could never be him. but i am like him. he has a sureness in his walk and fervor in the way he talks that is only recognizable when i look in the mirror. and we do meet again. it is a shame, however, that i must burden him with the weight of my past. i remember too often the troubles of my youth, even when all has passed into fleeting memories that haunt me as ghosts do to an abandoned house. yet, i still live in this house, and the ghosts are here to keep me company.

i remember the church, first and foremost; nestled between the barren country road and the outback; a beacon of hope to all those who stood in its doors. the luster of freshly polished wood still sits in my mind, accompanied by the echoing remnants of dulcet tones and multicolored bands of light, glaring from the stained glass windows and dancing across the musty carpet floor. the doddering pews were just as uncomfortable as the poorly padded chairs squatting in the front row, but every sunday, they were filled to the brim with hungry worshippers. they sang praise as though they were starved, but i was too young to understand for what. i am older now, and i still don't understand. all i know is that despite its reputation, the church was a cursed place, and i should never set foot in it again lest i go mad. i remember the creaking stairs which lead downstairs, and the winding halls that reeked of torment where shadows loomed. the paint was corroding and foul, and my conscious always loitered too long on the merlot stain on the ceiling; its origin unknown, but nevertheless urging my stomach to twist with nausea.

i remember the feeling of tall grass grazing my ankles; itching horribly from the old moth-eaten socks i was forced to wear. it had become second nature—running and hiding from my problems, from the church, from her. i shall never know a greater animosity than the likes that my mother encouraged, although unintentionally, with her pressuring views and sickeningly sweet smile. it's fake, and i would know, because ours are the same.

we are too similar, and i am sickened by the fact. will i become the wretched woman she is? will i fail to be the father i've dreamt of being? it is an easy thing to fall prey to haunting questions, and it serves as brain rot for every moment of silence that leaves me clawing at my skin, trying to reap the memory of her touch. then i began to think—about nothing and everything—and it does not stop. i will be kind; unforgivingly so, and without biased judgement; like my mother never was, and i'll make her hate me for it. i will grow in leaps and bounds, not for her sake or for god's, but for mine, as it always should have been. i will drink and curse with reckless abandon and kiss who i damn well please, because in no life does she have have the power to make me something i'm not. why should i feel sorry when the tears she wept were forged by my own blood; by the childhood memories locked away to rot in my subconscious? yes, she has suffered too, but it is through clenched teeth and raw-bitten lips that i must confess this, for her suffering was born in me and grew from a seedling into a thorned flower, nourished by her hatred and mine. she'll tell me the lie of all mothers before her: that she knows best, and i'll never know joy that is not from my savior's gracious hands.

one day, when she lies not with words but in silence, under worm-filled earth and withering pastures, i'll tell her that she was right. i'll tell her, with his hand in mine, that my savior arrived with hellfire in his eyes and fury unrelenting. his tongue holds venom that would make the devil blush, but he tastes of a sinful sweetness that i've drowned in more times than i care to count.

mother you should know, my god is like no other. he has a broad chest and muscles, i attest, that are sculpted like fine marble and smooth to the test.

my god is a man who loves other men, unashamedly; in all that is true; and kisses me like real people do. and i know it sounds silly, and a bit cliché, and he'd surely make a mockery of me if ever he heard, but i love him. i love him as passionately as you she does lord above, and it is a crime in itself how much i crave him, so yes, i will burn for this—not because my mother said so or by the ancient script that foretells it, but because i promise it. i promise to let neither hell or high water deter me from that which gives me life, and i'll do so with a ring.

"you hear that mom?" i'll whisper in the dead of night, his body flushed against mine in the most delightful way; his fingers curled into my nightshirt, pulling me closer as listless mumbles fall from his parted lips. he is dead to the world amid his dream ridden stupor, but still leans into my touch when i smooth back the wild tufts of hair to kiss his forehead.

"i'm gonna marry him." part of me wishes she didn't live on the other side of the planet, just so i could rub it in her face, but i won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me again. i won't let her think she's won, because i know, and katsuki knows, that he and i are one in the same.

i do not know who i should thank for my stubbornness, be it my mother or my father, so i will thank the pain they both caused me, for it made me stronger than they ever could. no, i did not become a better person, because the scars have yet to heal from how deep they cut, and the smell of blood still lingers, and i am angrier than i once was, but i cherish my wounds. the stench of my agony has long since been subdued, and i have learned to swallow the sickness it evokes. and yes, this anger is unhealthy and i've chosen not to purge it from my mind like the weed it is, but how lucky am i to have found one whose malice rivals my own?

the tales of his glory have littered my notebooks in smudged ink. you would hate him, is scrawled messily on the last page, but i only feel giddy with excitement. you would hate him for his spite and his unapologetic behavior, and that is why he's perfect. he's everything you hate about this world, but everything i love.

so when she gets to heaven and asks the angels "why?", they'll tell her it was him who made the devil cry. him, who held me like she should have—could have, if she hadn't terrified me—and who chased the nightmarish visions of her from my weary mind with his callous palms and soft-spoken reassurances. i wish i had known him when we were young; when things were not so simple and i needed a hand to hold; but i suppose we'll have to settle for faded photographs and stories told through the bitter aroma of alcohol. that's more than enough, i muse to myself, legs hooked over his as i rest my head on his shoulder, keening softly at the gentle scrape of his nails on my scalp. his arms wind around my waist as he mutters something along the lines of "i love you", his lips curling into a smile, illuminated by the televisions glow.

so when they ask of my religion, i will think of only him. i will recall the way he looks at me, the sound of my name on his tongue, the feeling of his lips trailing between the valley of my breast; featherlight, cautious and unfitting for a man of his nature. i've written songs of praise, all dedicated to him, and if only he knew, oh how smug he would be. but i love him, i love him, i love him. and when he spins me around like a marionette, it is with overwhelming pride and joy that i tell him this, and with rose hued cheeks and bashful grumbles, he tells me the same. so mother, wherever you are, i hope you know i've found my god.

#💥.katsuki #bakugou x trans reader #bakugou x trans male reader #bakugou x male reader #katsuki bakugou x male reader #male reader insert #mha x male reader #boku no hero x reader #bakugou x you #trans reader

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aswiya · 3 years

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Zeynab Serekaniye, a Kurdish woman with a gap-toothed smile and a warm demeanor, never imagined she’d join a militia.

The 26-year-old grew up in Ras al-Ayn, a town in north-east Syria. The only girl in a family of five, she liked to fight and wear boys’ clothing. But when her brothers got to attend school and she did not, Serekaniye did not challenge the decision. She knew it was the reality for girls in the region. Ras al-Ayn, Arabic for “head of the spring”, was a green and placid place, so Serekaniye settled down to a life of farming vegetables with her mother.

That changed on 9 October 2019, days after former US president Donald Trump announced that US troops would pull out of north-east Syria, where they had allied with Kurdish-led forces for years. A newly empowered Turkey, which sees the stateless Kurds as an existential threat, and whose affiliated groups it has been at war with for decades, immediately launched an offensive on border towns held by Kurdish forces in north-east Syria, including Ras al-Ayn.

Just after 4pm that day, Serekaniye says, the bombs began to fall, followed by the dull plink and thud of mortar fire. By evening, Serekaniye and her family had fled to the desert, where they watched their town go up in smoke. “We didn’t take anything with us,” she says. “We had a small car, so how can we take our stuff and leave the people?” As they fled, she saw dead bodies in the street. She soon learned that an uncle and cousin were among them. Their house would become rubble.

After Serekaniye’s family was forced to resettle farther south, she surprised her mother in late 2020 by saying she wanted to join the Women’s Protection Units (YPJ). The all-female, Kurdish-led militia was established in 2013 not long after their male counterparts, the People’s Protection Units (YPG), ostensibly to defend their territory against numerous groups, which would come to include the Islamic State (Isis). The YPG have also been linked to systematic human rights abuses including the use of child soldiers.

Serekaniye’s mother argued against her decision, because two of her brothers were already risking their lives in the YPG.

But Serekaniye was unmoved. “We’ve been pushed outside of our land, so now we should go and defend our land,” she says. “Before, I was not thinking like this. But now I have a purpose – and a target.”

Serekaniye is one of approximately 1,000 women across Syria to have enlisted in the militia in the past two years. Many joined in anger over Turkey’s incursions, but ended up staying.

“In discussions [growing up], it was always, ‘if something happens, a man will solve it, not a woman’,” says Serekaniye. “Now women can fight and protect her society . This, I like.”

According to the YPG, a surge in recruitment has also been aided by growing pushback against and awareness of entrenched gender inequality and violence over recent years. In 2019 the Kurds’ Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria passed a series of laws to protect women, including banning polygamy, child marriages, forced marriages and so-called “honour” killings, although many of these practices continue. About a third of Asayish officers in the Kurdish security services in the region are now women and 40% female representation is required in the autonomous government. A village of only women, where female residents can live safe from violence, was built, evacuated after nearby bombings, and resettled again.

Yet evidence of the widespread violence that women continue to face is abundant at the local Mala Jin, or “women’s house”, which provide a refuge and also a form of local arbitration for women in need across Syria. Since 2014, 69 of these houses have opened, with staff helping any woman or man who come in with problems they’re facing including issues of domestic violence, sexual harassment and rape, and so-called “honour” crimes, often liaising with local courts and the female units of the Asayish intelligence agency to solve cases.

On a sun-scorched day in May, three distraught women arrive in quick succession at a Mala Jin centre in the north-eastern city of Qamishli. The first woman, who wears a heavy green abaya, tells staff that her husband has barely come home since she’s given birth. The second woman arrives with her husband in tow, demanding a divorce; her long ponytail and hands shake as she describes how he’d once beaten her until she had to get an abortion.

The third woman shuffles in pale-faced and in a loose dress, with rags wrapped around her hands. Her skin is raw pink and black from burns that cover much of her face and body. The woman describes to staff how her husband has beaten her for years and threatened to kill a member of her family if she left him. After he poured paraffin on her one day, she says, she fled his house; he then hired men to kill her brother. After her brother’s murder, she set herself on fire. “I got tired,” she says.

The Mala Jin staff, all women, tut in disapproval as she speaks. They carefully write down the details of her account, tell her they need to take photographs, and explain they plan to send the documents to the court to help secure his arrest. The woman nods then lies down on a couch in exhaustion.

Behia Murad, the director of the Qamishli Mala Jin, an older, kind-eyed woman in a pink hijab, says the Mala Jin centres have handled thousands of cases since they started, and, though both men and women come in with complaints, “always the woman is the victim”.

A growing number of women visit the Mala Jin centres. Staff say that this doesn’t represent increased violence against women in the region, but that more women are demanding equality and justice.

The YPJ is very aware of this shift and its potential as a recruitment tool. “Our aim is not to just have her hold her gun, but to be aware,” says Newroz Ahmed, general commander of the YPJ.

For Serekaniye it was not just that she got to fight, it was also the way of life the YPJ seemed to offer. Instead of working in the fields, or getting married and having children, women who join the YPJ talk about women’s rights while training to use a rocket-propelled grenade. They are discouraged, though not banned, from using phones or dating and instead are told that comradeship with other women is now the focus of their day to day lives.

Commander Ahmed, soft-spoken but with an imposing stare, estimates the female militia’s current size is about 5,000. This is the same size the YPJ was at the height of its battle against Isis in 2014 (though the media have previously reported an inflated number). If the YPJ’s continued strength is any indication, she adds, the Kurdish-led experiment is still blooming.

The number remains high despite the fact that the YPJ has lost hundreds, if not more, of its members in battle and no longer accepts married women (the pressure to both fight and raise a family is too intense, Ahmed says). The YPJ also claim it no longer accepts women under 18 after intense pressure from the UN and human rights groups to stop the use of child soldiers; although many of the women I met had joined below that age, though years ago.

Driving through north-east Syria, it is no wonder that so many women continue to join, given the ubiquitous images of smiling female shahids, or martyrs. Fallen female fighters are commemorated on colourful billboards or with statues standing proudly at roundabouts. Sprawling cemeteries are filled with shahids, lush plants and roses growing from their graves.

The fight against Turkey is one reason to maintain the YPJ, says Ahmed, who spoke from a military base in al-Hasakah, the north-east governorate where US troops returned after Joe Biden was elected. She claims that gender equality is the other. “We continue to see a lot of breaches [of law] and violations against women” in the region, she says. “We still have the battle against the mentality, and this is even harder than the military one.”

Tal Tamr, the YPJ base where Serekaniye is stationed, is a historically Christian and somewhat sleepy town. Bedouins herd sheep through fields, children walk arm-in-arm through village lanes, and slow, gathering dust storms are a regular afternoon occurrence. Yet Kurdish, US and Russian interests are all present here. Sosin Birhat, Serekaniye’s commander, says that before 2019 the YPJ base in Tal Tamr was tiny; now, with more women joining, she describes it as a full regiment.

The base is a one-storey, tan-coloured stucco building once occupied by the Syrian regime. The women grow flowers and vegetables in the rugged land at the back. They do not have a signal for their phones or power to use a fan, even in the sweltering heat, so they pass the time on their days off, away from the frontline, having water fights, chain smoking and drinking sugary coffee and tea.

Yet battle is always on their minds. Viyan Rojava, a more seasoned fighter than Serekaniye, talks of taking back Afrin. In March 2018, Turkey and the Free Syrian Army rebels it backed, launched Operation Olive Branch to capture the north-eastern district beloved for its fields of olive trees.

Since the Turkish occupation of Afrin, tens of thousands of people have been displaced – Rojava’s family among them – and more than 135 women remain missing, according to media reports and human rights groups. “If these people come here, they will do the same to us,” says Rojava, as other female fighters nod in agreement. “We will not accept that, so we will hold our weapons and stand against them.”

Serekaniye listens intently as Rojava speaks. In the five months since she joined the YPJ, Serekaniye has transformed. During military training in January, she broke a leg trying to scale a wall; now, she can easily handle her gun.

As Rojava speaks, the walkie-talkie sitting beside her crackles. The women at the base were being called to the frontline, not far from Ras al-Ayn. There is little active fighting these days, yet they maintain their positions in case of a surprise attack. Serekaniye dons her flak jacket, grabs her Kalashnikov and a belt of bullets. Then she gets into an SUV headed north, and speeds away.

By Elizabeth Flock. Additional reporting by Kamiran Sadoun and Solin Mohamed Amin.

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catty-words · 3 years

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can you please tell me how you interpret otis' relationship with jean?

mm, so, while i don’t always find it enjoyable on a minute-by-minute basis because jean’s boundary issues touch a nerve and because i’ve imprinted so completely on my boy otis and hate to watch his autonomy challenged, there can be no denying that otis and jean’s relationship is incredibly rich and complex. there’s So Much to talk about, it’s kind of hard to pick a starting point.

but the aspect of their relationship i find most fascinating, i think, is the way both jean and otis’ number one priority is to mold otis into/become a man who doesn’t at all resemble remy. jean tries to accomplish this by constantly reframing otis’ reactions to her in the female point of view. like, think of the moment in 1.02 where otis says something to the effect of “you're stalking your son” and jean responds “that word carries a lot of weight, young man, don’t misuse it” or even the scene in the pilot that establishes their relationship for the audience, where otis takes jean’s latest sexual conquest to task and jean points out the sexism inherent in the argument otis is making.

and i like how years of this kind of guidance, this encouragement to see the broader cultural consequences of the worldview you’re imposing on others, has both helped otis flourish as a compassionate person and given him a crippling self-consciousness. he can both offer useful and mature sexual education to his peers, and fail to step outside his preoccupation with his insecurities in order to forge sexual relationships of his own.

also, one of the compelling consequences of the fracturing of their family and their subsequent preoccupation with remy’s part in it is the way jean’s unwillingness to be emotionally available to a partner affects otis. he’s watched her hedonistic approach to sex and leaned that sexual intimacy can - and perhaps even should - be developed only with people you don’t care about on a deeper level. it’s a way to invite intimacy into your life while maintaining steady boundaries around your heart. even remy’s absence, and the reason for remy’s absence, reinforces this for otis. having sex with someone you care about, with someone you’d willingly adopt as a life partner, gives them the power to hurt you beyond repair.

we see this guiding life principle take its toll on otis throughout season two, where he struggles with the idea of jean dating jakob and chooses ola over maeve again and again because he sees her as the safer alternative to being with someone he cares for deeply and in a way that’s already painful without it being as intimate as it has the potential to be. otis’ lashing out during the season comes from the fact that he’s unprepared to deal with his mom changing the foundation upon which she’s built their lives. that foundation being suddenly called into question by jean willingly becoming emotionally intimate with another person post-remy only makes otis’ latent anger more pronounced. now that he actually has a sexual life of which to speak, he’s building it in jean’s own image. so if she changes her mind about what makes physical vs. emotional intimacy worthwhile, that means otis has to deal with the fact that he could have followed his heart all along instead of choosing the closed-off and pragmatic option. what he’s missing, of course, is the way emotional intimacy after all this time doesn’t come naturally to jean. she’s working very hard to go against her nature in order to maintain - or fail to maintain, as it were - her relationship with jakob and that, in point of fact, the effort is what speaks to the relationship’s worth. relationships are the work of two people, they don’t magically spring into being by nature of intense chemistry and they aren’t time bombs that blow up in your face at random. for all jean’s preoccupation with keeping her dynamic with otis open and communicative, she certainly fails to pass along the idea that, above all else, passivity is the worst thing you can bring into any relationship.

which brings us to the other aspect of otis and jean’s relationship that’s of most interest to me: the aforementioned boundary issues. both otis and jean are very internal and largely private people. for otis, we see it manifest mostly in his relationship with jean. he doesn’t want to tell her about maeve, or the sex clinic, or his fight with eric. for jean, it’s in her consistent shutting down of anything more than sex with her various suitors and, most notably, in the 1.06 scene about otis’ thrashed wardrobe with jakob - “do you always avoid questions like this?”

but even while jean shares otis’ preference toward self-reliance and contemplativeness, she battles against his every assertion of privacy, wandering into his room to look through his stuff both when he specifically asks her not to and at random. the kid doesn’t get a lock for his bedroom door until he’s sixteen for crying out loud and, when he finally does, jean kicks open the door in a violation of what the lock symbolizes - namely, otis’ ability to choose when and what he shares with her.

so while this parent-child dynamic is far too close to home for me to make me particularly warm toward jean or identify with her, i do appreciate the way it brings endless complexity to the character. her whole persona is built on respectful and direct communication. it’s her greatest tool as a therapist, and it’s her greatest pitfall as a mother. because for every spoken “let the negative energy dissipate” and ‘let’s have a calm and rational discussion about this,” there’s a choice she makes to actively violate otis’ spoken and unspoken requests for stronger boundaries.

aside from her practice, otis is jean’s whole life. and you can clearly see the ways she’s done an exceptional job at raising a compassionate and thoughtful human being with all the energy and time she’s focused on doing just that. on the other hand, otis is jean’s whole life and you can clearly see the ways him behaving similarly to her both reinforces jean’s perception that she’s entitled to his life on her terms and creates tension around the fact that all otis wants is to assert the self-reliance she’s instilled in him.

#bigwhispersmusic #replies #sex education #jean milburn #otis milburn #sex ed meta

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ibijau · 3 years

Text

Futures Past pt14 / On AO3

three conversations as Nie Huaisang's time in Gusu comes to an end

Summer had finally come to an end, implacable heat replaced by a more pleasant warmth as the world took on new hues. It also meant that the final few exams of the year were fast approaching, though Nie Huaisang felt unconcerned. He’d been ordered to fail after all, not that he thought he could have succeeded even if he’d tried.

Comforted by that permission to not study, he was currently laying in the grass in the back hills of the Cloud Recesses, enjoying the afternoon sun. A history book, chosen for the promise of the many scandals it revealed about a past emperor’s reign, laid forgotten on his chest, Nie Huaisang having realised that the contents were far more serious than he felt like dealing with at the moment. At some other time he might have taken a nap, encouraged by the warmth, but he’d found it difficult to sleep since that visit of his future self a few days earlier.

Just as Nie Huaisang was about to pick up his book again, Su She finished his series of sword forms and came to lay on the grass as well. He was sweaty and looked tired, but appeared quite happy with himself. Su She had confessed that he’d made a real leap forward with his cultivation since teachers and other disciples stopped constantly putting him down, something for which Nie Huaisang felt as proud as if it had been his own progress.

They stayed silent for a while, just basking in the sun, enjoying that beautiful day, until Nie Huaisang found that his recent worries were too heavy on his chest and he had to share them.

“Su-xiong?”

Su She made a noise to signify he’d heard, but couldn’t be bothered to speak. He looked comfortable, and had closed his eyes as if he might succeed with the nap that eluded Nie Huaisang. It was almost a shame to ruin that.

“Do you think people can be so evil that nothing will redeem them?”

The silence changed around them. After a moment Su She sat up to get a look at Nie Huaisang. Finding him looking serious, Su She’s initial puzzlement quickly turned into mild irritation at being dragged into a discussion like that on such a pleasant afternoon.

“Gusu Lan’s principles state that…”

“Not you as a Lan disciple,” Nie Huaisang cut him with an impatient gesture. “You as a person. Do you think people can be so evil that there’s no going back for them, that nothing they could do or say would ever compensate for what they’ve done?”

Some of Su She’s irritation eased away, glad as always to be given a chance to voice an opinion that wasn’t that of his sect, and he laid down on the grass again.

“That’s a pretty intense question,” Su She said after a moment. “I guess there’s got to be a limit to what’s forgivable, yeah. I’m not the best to decide what that’d be though. I’ve been told I have an issue with holding grudges. But I think yeah, in general, there’s got to be a moment where a bad person becomes so bad there’s no going back and they just need to be eliminated.”

It wasn’t the answer Nie Huaisang had been hoping for, but it didn’t exactly surprise him either. He thought the same after all, if only because a person such as Wen Ruohan existed, proving to him that some people had to be beyond redemption.

“Then do you think…”

“What’s wrong with you today? Was this morning’s lecture about ethics again?”

“It was about the proper way to address people depending on family and allegiance links, and I fell asleep. No, this is something else. I’m just thinking about stuff lately.”

“Like good and evil? That must have been a pretty nasty nap you took.”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “I just wonder what makes a person bad or good. Do you think some people can be bad from birth? Just, they’re born and they’re evil, and there’s no way they’re ever going to be anything but evil.”

It really bothered him, the things his future self had said during his last visit. About Lan Xichen, about Su She, but mostly the way he’d spoken of that Xue Yang boy, as if that child were no better than a cockroach needing to be squashed before it could proliferate.

“I think there’s definitely people who think that about some other people,” Su She said. “I’m pretty sure if you asked some of the other Lan disciples, they’d say I’m like that, just because I have a temper and I don’t hug their knees quite enough and I ask too many questions during some lessons. I guess it’s easier to hate someone if you tell yourself they’re the worst and they deserve it.”

“You’re not evil!” Nie Huaisang cried out, reaching out for his friend’s hand. “You’re not! I’ll fight anyone who says you are!”

Surprised by that outburst, Su She blinked a few times then snorted, pushing away Nie Huaisang’s hand.

“I appreciate it, but it didn’t go so well last time you tried to fight for my honour.”

“I’ll still fight all of them!”

Su She laughed, but appeared quite happy to hear that. Even now that other Lans gave him less of a hard time, he still liked being reminded that Nie Huaisang was on his side, just as he made sure Nie Huaisang knew the opposite was true as well.

That was why Nie Huaisang was telling him about his thoughts, rather than going to Lan Qiren or even Lan Xichen who surely might have more elaborate opinions on the matter of good and evil. Su She might not have read quite as much, but he was also less likely to judge Nie Huaisang for asking that kind of thing. Besides, since Su She’s opinions were often less polished, they felt more honest than if he’d quoted great thinkers of the past.

“But really, do you think a person can actually be evil from birth?” Nie Huaisang insisted when Su She had stopped laughing. “Like. Like a child, but they’re evil. Do you think that’s possible?”

Su She grabbed a strand of grass, and started twisting it between his fingers.

“Maybe. But like I said, people will mostly say that about someone they don’t like, or someone that doesn’t play by their rules, or else they’re not from a prestigious family and they’re just doing what they have to survive.”

He paused to pluck some more grass to play with, and started constructing a knot with it.

“I have a great-uncle I’ve never met,” Su She explained. “He owned a farm before he died where he worked hard, until there was a very bad drought and hard work wasn’t enough anymore. My grandfather often said that people called his brother evil because he did some bad things to feed his wife and children, and some of it really was pretty awful I guess. But nobody ever called evil the magistrate that wanted to force him to pay his taxes instead of buying food. My great-uncle was executed for his crimes and everyone said he’d always been evil and vicious even though they used to praise him as a good man before, but the magistrate got a promotion for making sure taxes were still paid and he got called virtuous. And that’s… I don’t know, I feel there’s something not right in that, you know?”

Nie Huaisang nodded, his eyes fixed on the grass knot that Su She wouldn't stop twisting between his fingers.

His older self had said that this Xue Yang he had to kill was an orphan, and a thief of some sort even though he was just ten.

It would be harder to be virtuous and noble for someone who didn’t have anyone to turn to. Nie Huaisang had his whole family behind him, all the education anyone could have, he knew about ethics and rules, and he still found it hard sometimes to make the right choices. He was too lazy and selfish to ever be really good, and apparently he wasn’t going to improve with age. So how could a child on his own, without books or wise elders, learn to be a good person, especially if like Nie Huaisang they’d been given a bad personality?

“Ok, I have another question.”

Su She sighed, and threw away his grass knot.

“Is it a weird one again?”

Nie Huaisang grimaced.

“Yeah, that one is pretty weird,” he admitted. “So, imagine there’s a very evil person. The most evil you can think of, but you don’t actually know them, it’s just that someone told you that person is very evil. And, for some reason, you’re given a chance to go back to when they were a little kid, and that person who told you this other guy is evil also tells you that you should take the chance and kill the evil person while he’s a kid to save other people. Would you do it, or would you try to… I don’t know, maybe try to make that kid grow up around better people so maybe he doesn’t turn out so bad?”

“Those questions are getting really specific.”

“Just answer. Do you think it’d be right to kill that kid?”

Su She fell silent for a moment.

“Do I trust the person who told me the kid will be evil later?”

Nie Huaisang considered that question.

“Yeah. I guess for the sake of the argument, you trust that person,” he said, even though he wasn’t quite sure how much he did trust his older self.

“And has the kid done anything evil yet?”

“No, but he’s done bad things. Maybe he stole some stuff. But also, he’s an orphan, you know?”

Su She sat up and gave his friend a sharp look.

“Really specific again. I guess… I guess it’d be wrong to kill him though. I mean, it’s like you said, why not try to put him in a better place instead? If he’s just a kid, and he hasn’t done anything bad yet… I don’t think it’s really fair to punish someone for something they haven’t even done yet.”

“Right? I think so too. People should get a chance before they’re punished. They’ve got to have a chance to learn!”

Su She nodded, but look more and more suspicious.

“So, is this all about someone in particular, or…”

“I’m just wondering stuff,” Nie Huaisang quickly said. The truth was too weird for anyone to ever believe, even if he tried to tell someone. Su She would just think he was crazy. Maybe he was, anyway. “I’ve got to think about something during boring lessons, right? I mean, don’t you start thinking about weird stuff too?”

“Sometimes I think about leaving the Cloud Recesses and creating my own sect when I’m bored,” Su She replied.

Nie Huaisang sat up, a grin on his face.

“Really? What would it be like?”

“Like Gusu Lan, but better,” Su She retorted with a smug smile. “And I’d get to sleep half a shichen later in the morning. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like, since you know how to play the guqin now. You can be my right hand man.”

Nie Huaisang’s grin only grew larger. It sounded like a delightful idea, and he eagerly dropped all his earlier thoughts about ethics and morality to instead make Su She talk about the sect of his dreams, until it was time for dinner.

That had to have been Lan Qiren’s most boring lecture to date. Quite the accomplishment, Nie Huaisang thought. Another accomplishment, and one far more impressive, was the fact that he’d managed to stay awake through all of it. It was really hard lately to pay attention, especially now that he didn’t need to. His grades during tests had been so consistently low that he couldn’t have passed even if he tried, so he really should have been allowed to skip those last few lessons and go have fun somewhere. He was going to hear all that stuff again in a year, wasn’t he?

If he hadn’t feared the Lans’ punishment methods, Nie Huaisang would have skipped all these stupid classes and ran off to Gusu for some fun.

If he hadn’t feared his brother’s wrath, he would also have stopped bothering with homework. But Lan Xichen had hinted to him, not unwisely, that Nie Mingjue might be a little less angry if he could be shown proof that his brother had really tried to learn. And considering the stunt Nie Huaisang was thinking of pulling with Xue Yang…

So, Nie Huaisang had stayed awake in class, and he’d been handed back some previous homework with a grade so high he’d actually asked Lan Qiren if there hadn’t been a mistake. Lan Qiren had told him that if the grade didn’t please him, it was always possible to lower it, so Nie Huaisang had kept his mouth shut after that.

The rest of the lesson had passed surprisingly fast after that, and soon enough Nie Huaisang was free again, with a whole afternoon ahead of him. He had new homework to deal with, sure, and it was something that would be graded again, but that didn’t feel urgent. Sadly, Su She had already warned that he wouldn’t be free to hang out that day, due to being allowed to go on a Night Hunt with some other Lan juniors, something he’d been very excited about. That meant Nie Huaisang would have to stay on his own, or go bother Lan Xichen.

The second option felt surprisingly compelling, even though they’d already see each other in three days for his music lesson. Lan Xichen was sure to praise him for his good grade after all, and Nie Huaisang quite enjoyed being praised, as he’d discovered. If more people praised him, he might start feeling like doing something to deserve it.

Nie Huaisang had just decided he’d try to see if Lan Xichen had time for him when Jin Zixun grabbed him by the elbow and started pulling him away from everyone else.

"How come you had a good grade on that essay?" Jin Zixun asked with unwarranted suspicion.

Nie Huaisang, who had briefly wondered if he was going to get punched again and was getting ready to escape, relaxed and allowed the other boy to drag him away.

"I'm actually very smart, thanks."

"You're only smart on homework and never on quizzes," Jin Zixun retorted. "Is your merchant friend helping you?"

That earned him a light kick to the shin, which he didn’t appear to feel.

"Don’t call him that!” Nie Huaisang warned. “And, no, he's said he doesn't want to think about learning when we hang out."

"Then it's Lan gongzi who does your homework for you."

That hit a little too close. Stung in his pride, Nie Huaisang’s freed himself from Jin Zixun’s grip and stopped walking, arms crossed on his chest.

"He doesn't! He just corrects my drafts! And lately most of what's in my essays is all my own, actually! I only fail in quizzes because I panic and because I don't have enough time."

It was something he’d realised during his music lessons with Lan Xichen, actually. Nie Huaisang needed to do things at his own speed, or else he couldn’t do things at all. It wasn’t a problem with Lan Xichen who allowed him to take breaks and even have a snack if he struggled too much to focus, but Lan Qiren and the other teachers hadn’t taken it too well when he’d tried to eat candies during quizzes, or when he started doodling during an exam because it helped him focus. It also fell into deaf ears when he pleaded to be given a little more time when, by some random chance, he actually did know the answer to a question and had so much to say that the allotted time wasn’t enough.

By comparison, homework was easy. Especially when Lan Xichen allowed him to come into his room and work there while he dealt with his own work. The company of a studious person really helped.

"Fine,” Jin Zixun said, grabbing his arm again. “Then you're going to help me with my essays. I’m just barely passing and if I don't get a good grade on the last set of homework, old man Lan is going to make me come back next year."

Jin Zixun started pulling again, but Nie Huaisang resisted this time.

"Why should I help you?"

"Because your grades are so bad you're sure to be sent back next year, and then we'd be stuck together again."

"I need to think. I don't care that much about being stuck with you. You're not the worst person I know."

"I'm… not?" Jin Zixun asked, sounding so shocked that Nie Huaisang snorted.

"Not even close to it," Nie Huaisang assured him, thinking of his future self. With that point of comparison, a lot of people had become almost agreeable to him.

"Oh. I'm not sure I have another argument in my favour," Jin Zixun admitted. "Usually that one is enough."

Nie Huaisang snorted again. He could imagine that a lot of people would do whatever Jin Zixun asked of them, just so he’d stop talking to them for a little while. He was, after all, a complete prick, without skill or above average good looks to compensate. Still, Nie Huaisang felt a little sorry for him.

Besides, he was convinced that his future self would hate to see him waste time being nice to someone whom he didn’t deem useful, and that really sealed the deal.

"Okay I'll help,” he sighed, as if conceding to something that cost him a lot, when in truth he didn’t mind that much. “But only because I'm sorry for you."

"Hey!"

"And I'm just helping,” Nie Huaisang warned. “You're still doing the actual work.”

“You’re just lazy,” Jin Zixun complained, pulling again on Nie Huaisang’s arm who, this time, willingly started to follow him toward the cabin where the Jin disciples stayed.

“I sure am,” Nie Huaisang agreed with a bright smile. “And I’m also thirsty, so let’s have tea while you work!”

Jin Zixun complained and grumbled and called him spoiled, but still did serve him what had to be the best tea he had on hand as they worked together.

A loud, discordant rang through the otherwise silent room until Nie Huaisang put down his hands on the guqin’s strings to silence it. His eyes prickled with tears yet unspilled. It was a simple enough melody, and he’d worked on it all week, wanting to surprise Lan Xichen with his progress by playing for him something they hadn't worked on together. Even the other Nie disciples, who fluctuated between indifference and annoyance at his new obsession with music, had praised him for playing it so well the night before.

But now he was there, in Lan Xichen’s room, trying to actually play that damn melody, and his fingers just refused to obey him.

“Give me another chance,” he begged, quickly pressing the back of his hand to one eye, just to make sure he hadn’t actually started crying. “I swear I can play it! I worked so hard on it, I’ll show you!”

“If you say you can play it, I believe you,” Lan Xichen replied. “You’ve had a rough day, it’s normal to be affected. Let’s put away the guqin for now and have some tea instead. It’ll do you good.”

When Lan Xichen got up and turned around to go boil water, Nie Huaisang felt a few tears of frustration fall on his cheek which he quickly wiped away. It was stupid, and it wasn’t fair, and he hated that things could impact him life that.

“It’s not like I thought I had any chance of passing anyway,” he hissed, hands clenching into fists. “I knew I was going to fail, it’s stupid that I’m upset about this!”

“Knowing something and actually experiencing it aren’t the same,” Lan Xichen replied. “It’s normal to be upset, Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang shrugged, and wiped another tear. What did Lan Xichen know about failing anyway? He was always stupidly perfect, always did everything well, a favourite of every teacher, admired by all their peers, far more handsome than a boy of eighteen had any right to be, with a cultivation level that only Nie Mingjue, a freak of nature, could surpass. It was easy for Lan Xichen to say being upset was normal, when he’d probably never failed anything in his entire life.

By the time Lan Xichen returned to the table with a teapot and two glasses, Nie Huaisang was sulking, though thankfully he was too angry at himself to cry anymore. Lan Xichen took one look at him and went to fetch something else. He carefully put a little wooden box in front of Nie Huaisang, then started pouring tea for both of them.

“Take one,” Lan Xichen encouraged, nodding toward the box. “Take as many as you like, in fact. Just don’t tell anyone about them. I’m not supposed to have those.”

Intrigued, Nie Huaisang opened the box and discovered an array of cheap candies, which made Nie Huaisang grin against his will.

“What happened to the rules about avoiding unhealthy foods?”

“Wangji would have a fit,” Lan Xichen sighed, eyes glancing toward the door, as if just by mentioning his name, Lan Wangji might appear out of thin air to scold them. “But I know I can trust you to keep the secret.”

“No choice, you’ve made me an accomplice,” Nie Huaisang replied, grabbing one piece of candy. It was disgustingly sweet, almost making his jaw ache.

So he reached for another, his fingers briefly brushing against Lan Xichen who’d done the same. Nie Huaisang quickly removed his hand, startled at the sensation of warm skin.

“Lan gongzi, what if you adopted me as your new little brother?” Nie Huaisang suggested to try and pretend he hadn't had such a strong reaction just from an accidental touch. “I promise to be a very good didi. I will never get upset at you for wanting to have a little fun sometimes, and I’ll never denounce you to Lan Qiren either. And you will be my nice Lan-gege… ah ! Better yet, you'll be Xichen-ge! Always kind and patient, and you won’t mind at all that I’m bad at everything because I’m very sweet and funny.”

“A tempting offer,” Lan Xichen replied with an odd smile. “Wangji certainly never calls me ‘ge’ because he finds it too informal, whereas I think I quite like it, so I might adopt you just for that. But alas, Mingjue-xiong would be heartbroken if I stole his beloved brother from him, and so I must decline.”

Nie Huaisang took a sip of tea and sighed deeply.

“I don’t think he’ll mind at all. As it is, he might just disown me himself anyway.”

"Your brother will understand," Lan Xichen replied while taking another candy. "He'll be angry at first, but it won't last. If it worries you so much, I can write to him and tell him how hard you've been working. It's a shame homework doesn't count more toward passing, or I do think you'd be graduating."

Nie Huaisang shrugged. It was always like that: if he was good at something, it was always something which didn't matter. Even being skilled at music… what good was that to anyone, in the end?

"What if he doesn't forgive me though?"

"He will," Lan Xichen replied with confidence. "You are his precious little brother, I don't think he could ever stay mad at you very long."

Nie Huaisang thought of his older self, so convinced that Nie Mingjue despised him, and sighed.

"Maybe someday he'll get tired of forgiving me. Maybe someday I'll… maybe someday I'll do something that's too much," he muttered, thinking of his plan regarding Xue Yang. "I'll go too far, and then he'll hate me. And if he hates me, I'll…"

"Your brother loves you," Lan Xichen said. "He loves you as much as you love him. I don't think there's anything in the world that could change that."

That sounded like a challenge. As it happened, Nie Huaisang had given that topic a lot of thought lately, and he'd reached a conclusion.

"I can think of at least two things I could do that would make him hate me," he announced.

"Is that so?" Lan Xichen asked with a smile, as if he really believed such a thing to be impossible.

That gave Nie Huaisang some comfort. Lan Xichen was Nie Mingjue's best friend in the world, as close to him as he was to Su She. Lan Xichen had to know Nie Mingjue better than anyone else did, even if things were fated to start going bad between them someday.

"I could betray him to Wen Ruohan," Nie Huaisang said. "He'd never forgive that."

Lan Xichen took a sip of tea and nodded.

"Not if you did it on purpose, no. But I also think it isn't in your nature to willingly side with his enemies, and he would forgive you if you were tricked into it."

"Xichen-ge has a very high opinion of me, I feel undeserving."

"I'm only stating the truth. Now, what's the other thing you think Mingjue-xiong wouldn't forgive?"

"Marrying into Lanling Jin."

Lan Xichen chortled.

A real, honest to god, ugly laugh. He tried to hide it under a cough, but it was too late, Nie Huaisang had heard it and it delighted him. So even the ever perfect first jade of Gusu Lan could laugh like that!

"Well? What do you think of that one?"

"I think you're right this time," Lan Xichen agreed, still coughing. "It might be too much for him. In fact, I'll even say you'd deserve it."

"What? Xichen-ge, how cruel!" Nie Huaisang lamented, one hand over his heart. "Maybe I’ve found my one true love, and…”

“So all Jin Zixun had to do was break your nose and now you want to marry him?”

“Oh that’s pushing the joke too far,” Nie Huaisang said with a grimace, quickly bringing one hand to his nose, following the bone with one finger to try and feel the break. “He’s not my type at all, and anyway we’re both brats, it wouldn’t work out at all. Still, in theory, if I were to marry into Lanling Jin…”

Lan Xichen only smiled more widely.

“Would you, though?”

“Why not? There’s got to be a few that are decent. I mean, Zixun is occasionally almost tolerable, he can’t be the only one.”

“Oh, certainly there are some very fine people in that sect. I was talking more about the fact that you’d have to wear yellow for the rest of your life. Is that really something you could put up with?”

Thinking of the way those Jin disciples dressed, Nie Huaisang gasped and pressed both hands to his mouth to silence a cry of horror.

“That’s a good point! It’s not even a nice shade of yellow, either!" he cried out, trying to picture himself wearing it. It would be awful, he quickly decided. "I think it would wash out my complexion and make me look sickly. Maybe if it were a touch closer to brown, or even better a bit greenish, maybe I could consider it, but I really can’t marry into a sect that favours such a dreadful colour. I guess I’ll… why are you smiling?”

Lan Xichen, once more hiding his face behind his sleeve, turned away as if it might help dissimulate his grin.

“Because you are quite funny," he chuckled. "I don’t think anyone else would consider it a deal-breaker for marriage that they don’t like another sect’s colour.”

“Easy for you to say, Xichen-ge, you’d look good in any hue! Some of us have to be careful!”

Lan Xichen lowered his hand, his face suddenly serious once more except for a certain glint in his eyes.

“Huaisang, you really sell yourself short sometimes. I think you’d look quite good in any colour,” he eagerly said, before breaking into a fit of giggles as he added: “Any colour except Jin yellow, that is.”

It wasn’t even that funny, Nie Huaisang thought as he started laughing too. But Lan Xichen’s unexpected hilarity was too contagious to be resisted, and he’d been feeling down all day, so he just went for it and enjoyed the moment. It took them ages to ever calm down.

When they did though, Lan Xichen suggested that perhaps Nie Huaisang might try again to play that song he’d practiced.

This time, he played it perfectly, better even than he’d ever done before.

#nie huaisang #lan xichen #su she #jin zixun #xisang #some very light flirting is starting to happen at long last!#mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel

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thebadboyfanclub · 4 years

Text

I Got You (Napoleon x Reader)

This is the third time i’m trying to post this fucking thing, tumblr won’t let the posts I do from my laptop under search results but they will show posts I do from my phone. Anyways, enjoy!

“This better be worth it Waverly”

“Ohhh (y/n) dear trust me it will. Let me introduce you to your new colleagues”

As she walked in the room with one big desk and a few chairs, three of them were occupied by two men and one woman, probably in her 20s. Her eyes however focused on one particular man.... The man that was one of the reasons you thrived in the illegal field.

“This is Miss Gaby Teller, the most important person in this case, next to her is mister Illya Kuryakin, her supposed fiance and-”

“Napoleon Solo. The thief”

She bitterly interrupted Waverly, he was of course aware of (y/n)’s past with Napoleon, it was one of the reasons he requested her to join this case, keeping from her that piece of information of course.

“(y/f/n), you’ve grown up”

“you got old”

“Right, now that everyone knows each other, (y/n) please take a seat and i’ll explain the plan”

As she took a seat from the other side of the table, directly in front of Napoleon, she tried to focus on Waverly and ignore Napoleons intense stare that almost drilled a hole on the side of her head.

“Ok, so since Illya is here to be the love interest for Gaby and Napoleon is here to just get some Italian legs in the air, what am I here for?”

“You dear (y/l/n), you will be portraying miss Brigitte Richard, an heir to the Richard well know Cigar, he is a close friend of mine and graciously agreed to take his daughters name”

“Won’t they know what his daughter looks like?”

“His daughter has been kept away from the public eye and she had transferred in Britain during high school, that’s also where she went to College and recently decided to stay there. I will give you a file of hers to study. Your goal is to get close to Victoria vinciguerra during the event, maybe even seem interested in mister Solo, of course for show, nothing more”

“Of course, everything is only just for show when it has to do with Napoleon”

(Y/n) was dressed in her best attire, her long red dress that hugged her waist so beautifully, of course some silver diamond earrings on her ears and her hair up in a perfect updo, her heels were comfortable at least, but if she had to run the dress would not hold for long until it gives a show to anyone around her, she prays that it didn’t have to happen, or she would be royally screwed,

“Miss Richard , your father was right you do have your mothers eyes”

What a fool, she thought, this is who she was hiding from? a woman that complimented her for the resemblance in her eyes.... she wasn’t even close to being related to this people. However, on the outside, she smiled brightly at the tall blonde lady

“Thank you so much, god rest her soul she at least she was generous enough to pass them down to me, my dads brown eyes are great but a tad bit boring don’t you think?”

The blonde gave a tight lip smile to her comment. Of course, if she knew that her real parent had never seen this type of luxury, the lady wouldn’t even spare a glance.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, Victoria Vinciguerra”

“Brigitte Richard, my father made sure to keep me away from all of... this, he wanted his kids to be humble”

“I’m really sorry for your brother”

“It’s alright, I miss him but... c’est la vie”

(Y/n) had almost swallowed the file Waverly had given her, she even looked into the cigar company, just in case anyone asked questions. As the two ladies kept talking, she started hearing commotion,she turned her head towards the direction it was coming from and saw one familiar man falling to the ground.

“What is going on over there?”

“Excuse me dear”

Victoria started walking towards him and of course (y/n) followed. When they finally reached the crowd that was already forming a circle around him, there he was fanning himself the invitation dramatically, in true Napoleon fashion. (Y/n) kissed her teeth in annoyance, he was supposed to discreetly blend in, not cause a god damn ruckus the minute he walks in.

“Thank you, Thank you”

“I wonder what they do to people without invitations”

That is when she decided to take actions. She weaseled her way out of the crowd and kneeled in front of him to his level, offering her glass of champagne to him.

“Are you alright sir?”

“Yes, thank you very much Darling”

“I’m Victoria Vinciguerra, she is (y/f/n). I do believe an apology is in order. I’ll take it from here”

You helped him get up on his feet and took two steps to lean in and talked to her.

“of course miss Vinciguerra... next one is mine”

She giggled as she walked away in triumphant. To be frank the rest of your job was to keep an eye on these two, yet she could still say she completed the most important part.What she didn’t expect was the growing fire in the pit of her stomach that was directed to Victoria, looking at her talking to Napoleon so nonchalantly made her teeth hurt and her breasts ached with rage.

“It’s such a lovely day to be so pouty miss”

“Well sir... there is nothing really here for me to smile about”

“Not even me?”

“I think I am better off being the reason for someone to smile”

“Roberto Russo, charmed”

“Brigitte Richard”

Roberto was a handsome man, tall, light brown hair, hazel eyes, sharp jawline, full lips and extremely well dressed, no doubt he knew his way around women and money. What a better distraction and cover up than him?

What (y/n) had not calculated was Napoleon picking up at her “strategic” flirt and filling like punching the hell out of this pretentious little Italian boy that grew up spending daddy’s money. He restrained himself from walking over to her and taking her hand, guiding her away from everyone, keeping her all to herself.

“I saw you were talking to my aunt”

“Oh you are related to Victoria?”

“Yes, my dad is her brother. I actually haven’t spoken to her today, come with me?”

“How could I ever refuse?”

As he offered his arm she smiled and linked hers with his, walking over with her head held high as they got close to Napoleon and Victoria

“My dearest Roberto, how are you?”

she kissed her nephew at both of his cheeks and yet no smile was shown. She really was cold, Roberto however smiled brightly, feeling excited to show his knew “catch” to his aunt.

“I’m doing well... who might he be?”

“Jack Devinsky, Nice to meet you”

Roberto looked at Napoleon up and down, almost well not almost... judging him harshly. Napoleons sure looked rich but there were levels to how rich you were, especially when men judged one another.

“Roberto Russo. Well... aunt Victoria may I occupy you for a minute”

“Of course, anything for my nephew”

“It will only take a minute dear”

“I am counting”

She replied at him, he took her hand and placed a gentle kiss as he stared directly in her eyes, winking at her as she left her with Napoleon. They stood there in awkward silence for a few moments, they haven’t really spoken since the case started, (y/n) made sure to avoid him.

“You look stunning if that isn’t obvious”

“Thanks”

She said dryly. She barely even looked him in the eye, all she could see was that damn night, the night she lost everything, the night her heart shuttered, the night he showed her all the cruelty of the world he always talked about.

“You are mad at me”

“Do you blame me?”

“No, it still upsets me though”

“That sounds like a personal issue to me”

The event was a success. which meant (y/n) could finally relax and wear her pajamas, pour a drink for herself and lounge in the couch her room had. She still wore his necklace, the gold star necklace he had bought her way back when... she took the charm in her hands and felt the cold metal.

How much more could she take with him around? it took her so much time to heal and now here he was again, scratching the wounds she had closed up all by herself. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a knock at her door. She got up to answer it and was met with the man of the hour.

“Napoleon”

“May I come in?”

She sighed before stepping aside to let him in. Even when all she wanted was to punch him in the face, her heart took over her and let him walk into her room and her life once again, even when she had swore to take revenge when she saw him again.

“What do you want?”

“To talk”

“About what?”

She was well aware she was snapping at him, could you blame her? He had swore to protect her, help her when she had nothing and no one, taught her everything and then one night she came home to find all his belongings missing... and that damn letter tore her apart, she didn’t sleep for days, she waited for him to return for months and yet he never did.

“(Y/n) I know-”

“YOU KNOW NOTHING

”her voice booming through the entire room, it was like a glass of emotions was overflowing, threating to spill and make a mess. He saw the pain in her face, her lower lips trembling, her hands forming fists... still what caught his eye was one thing, the necklace. She was wearing his necklace, after all these years she didn’t throw it away. He took a breath through his nose before continuing.

“(y/n) you have every right to be upset-”

“Damn right I do”

“Will you just listen?”

“listen to what Napoleon?! What?!What?!What?!”

Next thing that was heard was her glass smashing at the wall, Vodka dripping down and small pieces of glass going everywhere. Napoleon was shocked, he should have known this wouldn’t be easy, he had wanted to reach out to her over the years, he had even went through with finding her, yet every time he chickened out last minute and walked away from it. Now, here she was in pain, yelling and smashing things... she had become his enemy

“I’m sorry”

“You are sorry? Sorry? for what Napoleon? for leaving me? for doing it in such cruel way? for lying to me?”

“I never lied”

“You swore to me that you loved me, that you... cared”

There it was, tears. She couldn’t even control it, as her voice cracked and the waterfalls started, she didn’t also want to cover them, she wanted him to see what he had done... to hell with being the bigger person. He wanted to hug her, comfort her, make her feel loved but now all he could do was to try and reason with her.

“I had to leave”

“Why? What could possibly be the reason... money? paintings? women?”

“You know I would never cheat on you”

“Oh yeah, cause leaving our house in the middle of the night is so much better”

She tried wipe away her tears, silence falling between them once again. As a way to calm and hide her emotions, she kneeled and started picking up pieces of glass, her back turned to him. Napoleon went to her side and even when he wanted to pick her up and kiss her, he controlled his desire

“(Y/n) stop, you’ll cut yourself”

“I’m fine Napoleon”

“(Y/n) the maid can do it”

“I said I’m- FUCK”

a piece of sharp glass had cut her as she accidentally gripped it a bit too hard. Napoleon saw the blood and got up immediately to find some tissues, while (y/n) got on her feet and brought her hand close to her chest, closing it to a fist as a way to stop the pain. When Napoleon approached she turned her back once again

“I said I’m fine”

“(Y/n) you are bleeding, let me care for you”

She had started crying again. As she turned around and opened her hand to him Napoleon gently placed the tissues on the wound, dabbing away the blood carefully.

“Why did you leave?”

“I thought I was protecting you, a way to keep you away from all of the things I was doing”

“Yet... here we are”

He looked up at her. Her lower lip was in between her teeth, tears freshly running down, her beautiful eyes were now red and puffy, her nose was running and he still found her heavenly.

“You kept the necklace”

“I tried throwing it away, or ponding it... I couldn’t find the courage... it’s too pretty”

“I tried coming back to you... multiple times”

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t”

She finally kept eye contact with him, getting lost once again in those ocean blue eyes, the eyes she looked at when they were laying naked on their bed, the eyes that looked at her when she woke up. With his one hand Napoleon slowly reached over and wiped a few tears with his thumb

“You are too pretty to cry over me”

“I missed you Napoleon”

She whispered looking down on the ground in embarrassment. She was everything he ever wanted, a woman that loved him and had his back and he tossed that all away, his intentions were pure yet the damage was gigantic. He hesitated for a minute, before taking her in his arms for a hug, her head nuzzling on his neck as she held on to him for the first time in what felt like centuries. Napoleon kissed her head, smelling her shampoo that was always the same, lavender.

“I missed you too munchkin”

She giggled at the nickname. Napoleon had met her when she was struggling to survive, she was this delicate little thing that looked everyone with kind eyes, yet once he got to know her he saw the passion, the fire, the potential she had to become something great, he didn’t want all that potential to go on illegal things that could possibly get her in jail or worse kill her. So from the beginning of the relationship he called her munchkin.

“Will we be alright?”

“I got you munchkin, I got you”

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